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#Or I'm making that breathing room on purpose
hoshigray · 15 days
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Hey, can I request some Toji, please? 👉🏻👈🏻 having sex with him after an argument and silent treatment for several days, but not like wild fucking, but kinda intimate and passionate 😔 like imagine you finally make up after an argument and he missed you soooo much and he want to kiss everywhere, look you in the eyes and praise the hell out of you 🥺
Damn, I need soft Toji bad 😭 wish you a great day 🫶🏻
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: arguing!? make up sex!?!? with soft dom toji!!??? ahhhhhhh—
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - implied argument + make-up sex - kissing/making out - Daddy kink - oral (m! + f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - anvil/mating press + spooning positions - cockwarming - praise - unprotected sex - multiple orgasms - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweet baby, sweetie) - Toji being whipped + missing you, i'm so soft - itty bitty angst in beginning + fluff on SMUT on fluff - mention os spit/drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k
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Toji didn’t like having arguments with you. They made you distant from him, pushed him away, and he’ll feel like utter shit until things subside after kissing and making up. And when the tension between you lasts for an entire week? Oh, that makes him experience a new gut-wrenching definition of guilt. 
Avoiding him is a torture he doesn’t want from you — oh, he can’t stand it. When you use the shower in the morning after he uses it in the nighttime, when your eyes don’t acknowledge his existence, or when you sleep far into your side of the bed with your back to him while he’s in a state of unease trying to find sleep without your warmth on him. 
A whole week of nothing but side glances and avoiding being in the same place as him, especially in your shared apartment. With every passing day, the pressure growing felt like you two were drifting apart — something Toji would never want between you. He already lost one love of his life; the mere thought of losing another was strong enough to have his stomach drop. 
It drives him so fucking crazy, especially when you’re in the kitchen washing dishes, Megumi and Tsumiki are at a sleepover, and him on the living room couch, supposedly watching sports highlights. But he can’t; his thoughts are too occupied reflecting on you — missing you. God, did he miss you — so fucking much that he shuts the television off and walks to the kitchen with a purpose. 
He brings you in with an embrace, spooking the daylights out of you that you almost jumped. You thank your stars you were done washing the dishes by the time he came around, or else he’d give you another thing to be mad about. “J-Jesus, Toji…! Scaring me like that, what are you—“
“I’m sorry.”
Two words — that’s all it takes to silence you, and your body stiffens in his hold. Toji takes this time to indulge in having you in his arms after such a break, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your abdomen and his face buried in the crook of your neck. The way your breath hitches at his lips on your shoulder, he kisses the skin exposed from your tank top. Fuck, you make him go insane.
“I don’t want us like this, baby,” he proceeds, sighing deeply when his hand creeps to your wet one to grasp. “Pushin’ you away from me like this, it’s drivin’ me crazy. Don’t avoid me because of dumb shit I did or said.” You were listening intently; the TV was off, so there’s no way you’d be ignorant enough to close him off. But you didn’t say anything yet, making the raven-haired man keep going. “This silent treatment, it’s fuckin’ with me; sleepin’ far on one side with y’r back to me, taking showers at different times, and not looking at me in the eye…” A kiss to the neck has you breathing cautiously. “Makes me think I’m losin’ you, and I don’t want that. So….I’m sorry.”
He can’t lie; the stillness between you two has him anxious, barely keeping it together and fighting the quiver of his fingers from showing. He nearly misses your signal — slapping his forearm wrapped around your stomach. Toji loosens his hold on you, and you turn around to face him. It feels like it’s been forever since the last time your eyes were on his for more than a second, and he freezes at the touch of your hands cupping his face.
“You’d never lose me, Toji,” you say to him in a whisper so the world doesn’t intervene with this moment. You bring your face to him to kiss the scar on his lip and return the hug. “And I’m sorry, too.”
There’s hesitance when he circles his arms around your waist again, but your frame on him gradually puts him at ease. “Sorry ‘bout what?” 
You peer up at him with your chin on his chest. Goddamn, your beauty was unreal. “For not apologizing sooner.” 
Toji hums with an aimless nod. “So,” he brings a hand to cup your cheek, and you lean to his touch. “Are we cool?” You nod with a smile. “Good.”
You repeat. “Good.”
A few seconds go by when his viridian orbs are locked in with yours before his face draws in close. “I missed you…”
Your eyes instinctively close. “I miss—Mmm.”
Your sentence is cut off at the contact of his lips on yours, asking for permission by laying himself onto you more and licking your bottom lip. With your hands enveloping his neck, you open your mouth to receive him. A moan slips out when he pushes his tongue gently, the hand on your cheek coming around to hold you by the back of your head. 
The kiss gets hot and steamier with every peck, the hand on your waist slithering down to grope your ass hiding inside your leggings. You wail as your frame hits the sink, and Toji uses this to cage you into him. A strong leg comes in between yours, having you essentially ride him as you lovingly suck his tongue. And it gets intense when he slams his face to yours, taking in your sweet noises that poke him to make more. 
Sounds of lips smacking together fill the kitchen space, and your hands find their way inside his sweatshirt to roam over his back. And Toji loves your touch on him; how he yearned to feel your fingers on his skin again.  
Oxygen is needed to carry on, so he breaks the kiss for you both to breathe. Heavy pants are shared at the union of your foreheads pressing together. You huff prettily with hooded eyes up to him, unveiling a smile as your fingers play with the black strands on his nape.
“I missed you, too, Toji." You finally say to him, sealing the fate for what’s to happen into the night.
“Hahhh, fuck, keep suckin’ me like that, mama…Shit, I missed this.”
You two are now in the comfort of your shared bedroom, no longer acting like strangers in your bed. Hands and lips show no interest in being away from bodies; Toji, in particular, uses this time to get his calloused hands drunk on feeling your curves, dents, and skin. 
And you’re on the same boat, placing soft kisses on whatever place you can find. His lips, his clavicle, sneaking inside his sweatshirt to tweak and lick his nipples before trailing down to the dent of his sweats. Pulling the pants down sprung out his hard-on, and you feverishly greet his cock with your mouth. 
Toji gets lost in the sensation of your lips and tongue, gripping the sheets at his dick and being swallowed whole into your warm throat. Fuck, you were so good at this, using your hands to stroke him as you sucked his glans harshly while gingerly massaging his balls. Your humming on him feels so good that his hand goes to your head to steady himself. 
“Fucking Christ,” he curses under his breath, and his hips jerk to create friction. He wants to come so bad, stuff your face with his dick, and pump his load into you. But no, not right now. He taps your cheek, and you bat your eyes at him. “Mmm, c’mon, sweetie. Let’s switch.”
You take out his cock from your mouth and a string of saliva sticks to you and his cockhead. “But you didn’t—“
“Don’t worry; I will later,” he squishes your cheeks, wiping spit from the corners of your lips. And he means that because being one with you is what he wants more than anything tonight.
But before that, he needs to have you be prepared for him. After all, it has been a week.
“—Ahhhh, ahhhh, Tojiii, I just came…!”
“There you go, baby,” his baritone voice rocked to your core, his tongue licking and sucking the skin of your inner thigh. “Keep makin’ a mess for me...”
He nestled between your legs, his mouth stuffed in the proximity of your cunt that’s been orally stimulated for the past few minutes now. All for the sake of prep, yet Toji missed being close to your vagina like this, sucking your slick with ease.
Fuck, your taste in his buds was nearly nostalgic. It all felt familiar — felt right. His tongue swirled around your labia to make you whimper, shoving it inside your entrance to essentially fuck you on his tongue, resulting in pretty screams as you grab tuffs of raven hair. And since you just came, your legs trembled with sensitivity, trying to close your legs to shield yourself.
But that’s not what’s happening tonight, not with Toji. His hands easily hold your legs by the back of your knees, exposing your beautiful, soapy chaos of a chasm to him for him to enjoy. His face is so crowded between your legs and folds that his nose bumps and presses to the hood of your clit. You cry at his hold on you, forced to take whatever his tongue gives you.
“Moohhh, hooohh, To’jiiiii,” you’re shrieking when he laps on your clitoris, and your frame jolts from the onslaught. “Stooohhhpp! I can’t…!”
“Yes, you can,” he removes himself from your slit, licking your essence plastered on his scarred lips. Toji rests his head on the thigh where his hand is massaging. A low chortle leaves him when you shake your head, sneaking his free hand to your cunt where his middle and forefinger insert efficiently. You gasp sharply, and his thick digits go to work. “Don’t tell Daddy you can’t, sweet baby; I need you to be all wet for me.”
The title he uses on himself has your walls twitch on him. “Hahhh, I’m wet enough…Ohoo!!”
“Aht, aht, none of that,” he coos while pressing a thumb on your clit, and you wail at him as he makes circles on your bud. “Gotta have you all ready for me…” The squelches of his fingers exploring your insides are hot to hear. Fucking Christ, Toji couldn’t get enough of you, trying to fight the urge to plunge his mouth back on your cunt when you smell too good to resist. 
His eyes flickered back to your face when you shudder at the scrape of his blunt fingertips on your velvety texture. “D-Daddyyy, I’m gonna cummm…”
You make him snicker. “Yeah? You gonna cum?” He takes his tongue and runs an excruciatingly sluggish lick to your clit; it has you gripping the sheets. “Gonna make a mess on Daddy again, pretty thing?” You nod hastily with a chewed lip, fuck you looked so cute being desperate for him. He removes his finger with a deep sigh. “Mmm, ‘kay, stay still fr’ me, baby.”
You find that impossible as he descends back to your leaking slit to lick and suck like crazy, his hands on your hips to keep your writhing figure from escaping the older man sucking on your nectar. Christ, you tasted so good, his jaw wet from pushing his face further in to have more of you in his mouth as possible, chasing you to ride out another orgasm for him to drink on. 
He’d make you cum for the second time that night. Something you know is essential as you’re soon bent on your back, your legs to the air supported by his shoulders, and constant wails fly out your slippery lips and bounce the walls of your bedroom. You can only thank the Lord that the kids are not home right now…
“Hmaahh! Nhhaahh!! Daddyyyy, Daddyy….! Too much, I’m ‘oo full—Oooo!”
“Hghh! Hhhshiiiit, this pussy…! Try’na milk me dry, huh, sweet thing…”
Clothes have long been discarded to the bedroom floor, and the ceiling lights turned off for the natural lighting of the moon to shower the space, Toji’s nude, powerful body on top of yours as he pistons his cock into you at an irregular pace. Sweat keeps the strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and hoarse grunts evade him with every dig of his dick venturing inside you. 
The position helps him go deep into the places both you and he can’t reach, his fat girth stretching your entrance and the tip stimulating your G-spot with grazes to your vaginal walls. His jabs become more accurate when he adds his weight onto you, caging you between him and the mattress to have your chasm tighten around him more. You howl, clenching on his length at every scratch of your sensitive areas. And it doesn’t help the fact he drives himself down to the hilt, balls deep into your creamy cunt.
“Tahhh, ohhhh, good God,” your eyes shut, taking out the sense of seeing to indulge in the others. The many sensations coursing through our fatigued frame are borderline addicting — given the fact that this is the fourth time Toji’s making you come. You’re practically drowning in the scene; any more than this, you’re bound to turn into actual putty.
Toji taps your cheek to have you open your eyelids for him. “Hey, mama,” your heart skipped at his handsome, disheveled look. Emerald eyes capture your gaze, and the smirk on his face lifts the scar. “Watch how good y’re takin’ me.”
Your stare travels down to where your sex is joined with his, white fluids exiting out of you and making a ring around the base of his shaft. You can sense the come from the round prior trailing down to the crevice of your ass; so fucking dirty. It all looked so erotic and forbidden to the eyes, throbbing on him a lot more.
“Daddy, please—Mmmph!”
“What, sweetie,” his hips change to an intermittent rhythm, evoking more cries to escape your pretty lips. He examines every feature in your expression, admiring how sexy you look under his bow. “Tell Daddy what you want.”
It hurts to think, but you try to muster a response despite your head going through such a haze. “Let me c’mmm on you, pleaseee!”
“Good girl,” he stops moving his pelvis to maneuver, standing on his knees, removing your legs from his shoulder to lie them down. Toji then comes from behind you, scooping you to his side for your body to mush with his in for a cuddle. You gasp at him inserting his cock back in, humming at the stretch of his girth that fills you up and scrapes your upper wall.
Toji returns his pelvis in thrusting motions, and your head rests on his forearm. The push of his dick grinding against your velvety texture has you squeaking in high pitches, a hand finding purchase on his rocking hip. 
“Fuck,” he observes you, looking so effortlessly gorgeous by his side — he missed this so fucking bad, having you near him like it’s where you belonged. The hand you’re resting on comes around to cup your breast, fondling the mound lovingly, which makes you arch to him more. His free hand brings your chin to him, “So fuckin’ beautiful fr’ me, baby…”
The kiss makes you clamp onto him tighter, and Toji reacts by dialing the speed. He trails his lips to your cheek and the crook of your neck to lay more kisses and suck on your skin. The hand on your breast squeezes it, occasionally pressing down on your nipple with his forefinger. Yet it doesn’t distract you from the constant stimulation of your G-spot, screaming and toes curling from the diligent strokes against the wall of your vagina.
Your brain turns into mush, spit coming down your agape lips, and your brows furrow while Toji squishes your cheeks. “Ohhh, Daddy, right thereeee, I’m so close…!”
“Me too, sweetie, a lil’ bit more…—Aiishh!” He can feel it, his length pulsating inside you when your orgasms climb together. He brings your mouth back to his, taking your delicious screams when your bodies lock in together to climax. 
A few more harsh thrusts to your ass, and Toji spurts his load into you, sinking into the pleasurable sensation of your folds contracting around his girth. Your hand scratches his hip, muffled howls taken by him while the hand on your breast sneaks away to grasp your hand, fingers intertwining to seek connectedness. 
Quivering bodies soon calm down when the wave of their finish is finally gone, and you two sigh deep into a passionate kiss. It breaks with a soft noise while he nibbles on your lip before letting go. “Toji,” you said his name in stifles, your hand caressing his sweaty cheek.
The older man huffs, placing his hot palm on your cheek to stroke in return. “Yeah, mama?”
“Sleep,” you demanded with a sigh, fatigued eyes and trenched brows. The single word has you both chuckling in the hot air between you before he kisses you gently one last time. Exhaustion takes over you both, Toji bringing the comforter to put around your bodies, laying his head on the pillows as you rest yours on his arm, your hand still held with his.
His free hand guides you to be pressed up against him, his cock still inside your creamy cunt. He’s comforted by the snug of your walls and the flesh of your body molding with his hot, sturdy frame. Sleepy green eyes go to the creek of the curtains covering the bedroom window. “Maybe we outta argue more often.”
He knew that would make you giggle; the faint rise and fall of your shoulder is highlighted by the moonlight creeping through the window. “Good night, Toji.” The way you said his name sounded like a spell, closing his eyes at the somnolent tone.
“Night, baby.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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markster666 · 3 months
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Hey! I noticed you write smut for everyones favorite deer man. Episode 5 was getting to me with those tentacles! i was wondering if you could write something to do with that when you get the chance? 👀
Yes I do! Your wish is my command. <33
ALASTOR X READER (SMUT/18+) - TENTACLES
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Smut, 18+, Double Penetration, Tentacles, Porn without much plot, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Pet Kink, Sensory Deprivation, CNC, and other stuff lol
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 863
A/N: Thank you so much to @thatdeadstoat for taking the time and effort to put in this prompt request. I'm so happy with all the Alastor lore and screen time lol. Unedited, so apologies for spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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You heard Alastor's microphone cane tapping the ground as he walked down the hallway to your room. You couldn't even see his face but you could FEEL the seething energy rising from him. He didn't even knock as he busted open your door, slamming it roughly behind him and leaning against it.
"I don't know WHY Charlie thought it was a brilliant idea to bring that low life to this hotel. I despise him with a furious passion."
You shrugged very slightly and sat up in your bed, pausing the tv show you were watching.
"It's her father, Alastor. They're blood. At least he's trying."
Alastors ears furrow back as he squints at you.
"I can't believe you're justifying him, my Dear! I taught you so much better than that."
You bit your lip.
"I was just trying to state my opinion-"
You cut yourself off as he purposely made a threatening walk towards you, his eyes filled with a cannibalistic nature.
"Your opinion doesn't matter in this bedroom, my Dear, I'm CERTAIN i've made that clear, no? Do you need a reminder?"
Before you could open your mouth to speak, his tentacles appeared out of thin air, one of them wrapping around your mouth like a gag and the others pinning you to the bed on your stomach, wrapped around your body like a bunch of rope to keep your arms locked to your side. Alastor got on top of you, straddling the small of your back and wrapping a hand around your throat, squeezing gently on the sides. He pulled your hair aggressively up and got close to your ear,
"Not like you had much of a choice anyways, little one. If you're a good pet, I might let you feel some of your own pleasure, but for now, let your Master let off some steam, hm?"
The tentacle around your mouth tightened as you desperately nodded, trying to murmur something to him but instead it comes out as groans.
"What was that, my Dear? I can't hear you."
He was obviously mocking you. His grin grew wider.
"Since you can't keep your opinionated mouth shut, that restraint is not going anywhere. If I hear you try to speak, I will not give you relief. Do I make myself clear?"
You nodded, feeling your core heat up and the wetness starting to spill down your legs.
"Good."
He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before slamming your face into the pillow, ripping down your pants and feeling your pussy through your panties.
"Oh my! I haven't even DONE anything yet, Princess! Maybe you really DO need this!"
He moved your panties to the side and inserted a two fingers into your cunt, not giving you much time to adjust before pumping them out as fast as he could. You instinctively arched your back before moaning out in overstimulation as he pushed your face harder into the pillow, his hand entangled in your hair.
He kept going for a good bit before stopping, slapping your ass once before letting go of your hair. You were panting and whimpering and felt your juices dripping down your thighs onto the bed.
You felt humilated and he felt like a god.
Before you could catch your breath, you instantly felt Alastor press into your pussy all the way to the hilt, filling you up in just the perfect way. His ears furrowed back as he gripped your hips tighter.
"Goooood girl, you take me so well. Now, just be still and let Daddy breed you."
You were a moaning whimpering mess as he started fucking you into the mattress, his tentacles still wrapped around your body and your mouth. He had an animalistic rage inside of him making him grasp at every part of you, trying to fuck you as deep as he could.
And you loved every second of it.
He kept going for awhile before you felt something push against your asshole. You winced and then moaned in pure pleasure as one of his tentacles inserted itself into it, both holes now being used and filled up.
You bit against the tentacle keeping your mouth in place while you were being brutalized by the deer demon. You were moaning so loud you could probably guess everybody was hearing this.
It wasn't long until Alastor was close, his thrusts become more sloppy and his grip on your hips becoming tighter. You felt yourself getting close to.
"Cum for me."
You instantly came at the sound of his voice and he came too, pushing as deep as he could go. You two stayed in that position for awhile, catching your breathes before he took his tentacles out of you and from around you and himself out as well. You tried to stand up to use the restroom to empty his seed out but he stopped you,
"Ah ah, at least give it 10 minutes, Pet."
He gave you a small kiss on the forehead and dressed himself, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"Thanks Alastor... I guess I really did need that."
His grin grew as wide as it could.
"Good girl."
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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slxtherin-prxncess · 7 months
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dark!stepbrother!ethan where he’s absolutely obsessed with the reader and he borrows her computer and finds out that she was watching some kinky shit (like i mean kinky) and then he makes a move on her and smut from there!! also pls make him really dominant if possible. thank you <3
Good Girl For You
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pairing: dark!stepbrother!ethan landry, AFAB!reader
contains: non-gf!au, smut (mdni), unprotected p in v, cream pie, oral (m receiving), face-fucking, choking, overstimulation, stepcest. Lmk if I missed any
an: lmk if you wanna be in the taglist
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Ever since you were little, it's just been you and your mom.
She never had boyfriends, and you were an only child, so you had grown up to be protective over your mom.
That is until Wayne, your step-dad, came into your life. He had 3 kids: Richie, Quinn, and Ethan. Richie was grown, so he didn't live with you guys, but Ethan and Quinn did.
Quinn was super nice. She was the sister you never had. Both of the siblings being a year older, you were now the youngest.
Ethan, however, was a pain in the ass.
He was such a dick. He would always taunt and tease you, taking your stuff without asking, and even invading your privacy. He was such a douche but god, he was so cute.
You couldn't deny it, Ethan was hot. Especially when he walked around in those gray sweatpants
He knew that you were looking at him, and he loved it. He wore those gray sweatpants on purpose when he was hard, just so he could walk in front of your room when the door was open so he could catch you staring, not to mention he would purposefully tip something over or drop something just so he could look at you bent over.
And to his luck, both of your parents were out that day. Unfortunately, Quinn was there, but hopefully, she wasn't a snitch.
"Hey Y/N," Ethan leaned against the doorway sluggishly. "Can I borrow your laptop?"
"Why?" You shifted in your seat so you could peer at him. And, of course, he was wearing those godforsaken sweatpants.
"I need it for something. Are you gonna let me use it or not?" He cocked a brow.
"For what? Porn?" You scoffed.
He rolled his eyes and stuck his hand out expectantly. "Well?"
You handed your computer to him with a sigh and settled back in bed, seemingly bothered by his presence.
It was only minutes after he had been in his room before your stomach wrenched, and your heart sank.
'shit, shit, shit,' you thought as you raced to his door. You had forgotten to close your tabs from the previous night.
"Ethan, I need my computer real quick. Just really fast, I'll be two seconds," you beat on his door and jiggled the knob that wouldn't turn.
He unlocked his door and handed it to you with a smug grin. Oh he definitely saw it.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, that wasn't meant for you," you whispered embarrassingly as you tried to take the computer from him, but he waved it higher than your reach.
"Nuhuh, I think you did it on purpose," he smirked. "Leaving your porn tabs open for me?" He tsked. "You're smarter than I thought you were Y/N."
"No, Ethan, it wasn't meant for you to see, I forgot to close them and i-"
"Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “You're such a smart girl, I dont believe you could be so careless,” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.
Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. You really hadn't done it on purpose, but it didn't seem like such a bad idea.
He yanked you in his room and closed the door, pressing you against it as he held his knee between your legs, applying pressure to your increasingly aching cunt.
“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when someone flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.”
He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.”
Your eyes widen, and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. not really trying to get away at all, actually.
"Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet." Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. 'God. Don’t think like that Jesus'
"Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?" His voice is so completely self-assured and cocky. Asshole.
It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should.
He pulls his hands back a little for you so that if you want to get out, you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still.
"See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother." You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.
He roams his hands down until one stops directly above your waistline.
"Ethan," you said warningly. "Stop.."
“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your thigh. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.
"Y'know, I've imagined touching you like this so many times. Every time you act like a brat or roll your eyes at me, all I wanna do is back you up against the counter and make you melt for me," he smirks.
"I thought you said you didn't think I'd be into this stuff."
“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat.
This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter, and you let out a soft, needy breath as you lay your head back against him.
“Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close, but no sound comes out.
He’s barely even touched you, but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.
“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.”
His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp, and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process.
The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet.
If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse.
You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible, you finally realized the position you were in.
You were about to suck your step-brothers cock.
But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead, the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire, and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was.
You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way.
You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Ethan’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk. 
“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time, and you moaned a little louder.
"Yes, I want it," you answered. You felt as though your brain had formed into mush. You hadn't even registered his question as a question when he asked. You just knew you wanted to touch him.
“awe, you do?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck.
“Don’t worry, im gonna fuck this little throat of yours.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth.
You loll your tongue out, and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue, and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum.
“Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter, and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.”
He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth.
“Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl." He rutted into your throat, tilting his head back as his tip abused the back of your throat.
"What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.
“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond.
You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable.
His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.
“Yea? I’m gonna paint your pretty little throat and you’re going To .Take. Every. Ounce.” With each word he slammed his tip in the back of your throat.
“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of.
He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was.
“Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.
“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.”
He was thrusting at a fervent pace, and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill.
It was hot being treated like this, especially by Ethan. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties.
Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Ethan took pleasure in wiping away.
“Maybe you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.” 
His hips stuttered, indicating he was close to release as be fucked your throat mercilessly.
He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.”
spurts of cum painted your throat as his thrusts grew weaker.
He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh.
You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth, and god, it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.
He panted lifted you up, wiping cum and saliva off your chin.
"You're so pretty like this. You're making me hard again," he smirked, crawling on top of you.
He gripped your thighs, spreading them so he could position himself at your entrance.
"You want it? You want me deep inside you?" He whispered in your ear, teasingly as you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Yes," you whimpered, peering at how absolutely amazing his cock looked. You imagined it deep inside you, fucking you better than you could take.
"Tell me how much you want it."
"So bad," you whined, tilting your hips up to feel a sense of relief in your desperate center, but be pulled back with a smug grin.
"Oh, I bet you do, because you're such a slut, aren't you? Such a slut for your stepbrother," he hissed when he slid his cock inside your walls, your wetness not making it difficult at all for him.
"Yes," you moaned out, thanking your lucky stars that he was inside you. God, you felt so dirty. He was your stepbrother, but it just made it that more hot.
"So tight," he groans as his hips rutted into yours, a moan slipping from your lips.
His hand wraps around your throat, barely squeezing but enough to where you swore you could've came just from the feeling of his hands choking you.
"Such a slut, so wet for me. For your stepbrother." He groaned, and he repeatedly slammed into that sweat spot, causing a loud moan to emerge.
"As much as I love you moaning for me, you have to keep quiet," he said as he clamped a hand over your mouth, making sure to leave your nose unblocked so you could breathe. "We'll get caught if you're too loud."
"Y/N?" Quinn knocked on the door. You froze, but Ethan continued fucking you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.
He removed his hand from your mouth and smirked.
"Yeah?" You called out, praying to whatever was out there that you wouldn't moan.
"Why's the door locked?" She jiggled the knob, but it wouldn't open.
"Um, just having some alone time. What do you.." Your eyes rolled back as his pace sped up. You bit your lip so hard you were afraid it might bleed. "What do you need?"
"Just checking on you. I thought I heard some noises," she said skeptically as she pressed her ear against the door only to be met with quiet creaks from the bed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything," you replied quickly as Ethan bit down on your shoulder.
Ethan's pace sped up as he repeatedly slammed into you, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"Y/N, are you listening?" Quinn asked, obviously annoyed.
You must've missed something, accidentally drowned something out while Ethan was fucking you so good.
"S-Sorry, its kinda hard to... to focus when I'm watching something," you stammered, the knot in your stomach so close to snapping.
"Or when your stepbrother is deep inside you," Ethan whispered, practically destroying your pussy while you tried your best to keep quiet.
A silent moan escaped your lips, and you froze, terrified she heard it.
"What was that?" Quinn asked, her eyebrows raised even though you couldn't see her.
"What was what?" Your eyes rolled deep into your skull, legs trembling as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.
"Never mind, I'll leave you alone," Quinn said before walking away.
You let out a sigh of relief when you heard her bedroom door shut.
"Fuck, you did so good, keeping quiet for me," he groaned and his hips stuttered and his thrusts became harsher and quicker.
"Oh my god, m'gonna cum," you moaned, feeling helpless as Ethan fucked you mercilessly, his cock hitting all the right places inside you.
"Not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as he thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "You'll cum when I say so."
You whined in protest, but it was no use. He had complete control over you. You would bend over backward just for his satisfaction.
"Please, please, please, please! I can't hold it, I need to cum," you whined, bucking your hips to the rhythm of his thrusts as you chased your high.
"Good girl," he smirked, biting his lip as he got closer to his own climax. "Cum for me."
You weren't sure if you came because he gave you permission or he just happened to allow you when you couldn't hold back anymore, because you came before he finished his sentence.
Your entire body shook as your orgasm ripped through you, but he wasn't finished yet.
"Fuck, you're so pretty when you cum," he hissed as he fucked you through your orgasm. The overtimulation was too much. You felt so good, but you could barely take it.
"I'm gonna fill this pretty cunt up with so much cum you can taste it," he groans. "Yeah? You like that? You want me to cum inside this pretty cunt of yours?"
You nod quickly as you felt a second orgasm form.
His free hand snaked down your body and applied pressure to your clit, rubbing it roughly and your moans got louder.
"So good for me," he praised as he sensed he was going to cum.
"M'cumming, cum for me," he ordered, his hips stuttering before you felt the warmth of his cum paint your walls the same time your second orgasm ripped through you.
"Fuck," he panted, burying his head in your neck.
He looked down at you, his cum dripping out of your abused hole.
"We should do that more often," he said with a smirk.
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luveline · 2 months
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i was thinking about roommate!spencer going home after a week off working on a case and finding reader sleeping on the couch waiting for him to get home
Spencer cringes as his nails scratch the paint around the doorknob. He’s a tepid mixture of tired and sad, demotivated from another bad case, the subway home, the too many steps to the apartment. He hopes the BAU has better pay after his probation is over. He’d get a new apartment, fix up his shitty old car, maybe even get a haircut. 
For now, it’s just him, his tired feet, the threadbare couch, and you. 
You’re snoring with your face crushed to the armrest, hand tucked under your chest. You’ve started sitting and ended twisted to one side. Your back will ache when you wake up, but you’re blissfully unaware of it while you sleep. Spencer has half a mind to let you sleep undisturbed. 
He steps over your book of crosswords on the floor and the pencil waiting beside it, bending over to pat your arm. When that doesn’t rouse you, he grabs your shoulder, about to shake you awake when you sigh in your sleep, a simple, sugary sound that sends heat to his cheeks instantaneously. You’re often innocuously lovely, at least in his eyes. 
Spencer frowns and goes to make you a glass of sweet tea to wake up to. He’s secretly hoping you’ll wake up before he returns, but you’re still snoring, your face crushed, pressure on your neck. 
He wonders if you sleep on the couch often. He’s never caught you sleeping in the living room when he’s home, but this is the third time now he’s texted you that he’s coming back and walked in to find you waiting…
Are you waiting for him? 
Spencer can profile you. It doesn’t feel right, he tries not to be invasive, but he can work this out. It’s his job. 
First, the text you sent that read, Can’t wait for you to come home, I’m making chicken noodle soup for us 
Neither indicative nor exclusionary of his theory. You could mean can’t wait as the metaphor it tends to be. 
Your crossword book. Upon further inspection, he realises the pages are bent on one side, and the tent of it has landed where your hand curls toward your chest. Alright, it fell. You stayed up until you were so tired you dropped your book. 
But… you could’ve been watching TV. He turns to analyse the TV set. The standby light turns orange when it’s been left on for eight hours at a time, and you and Spencer are kind of broke, so you don’t leave anything running on purpose. You’ve never fallen asleep watching TV while he was home— 
All these reasons. 
He could just ask. He turns back to you with lips already parted, prepared to try again to wake you and slip it in casually, Shit, you weren’t waiting for me, were you? 
You’re already awake. 
Tired, you smile at him like you’re not surprised he’s kneeling at the foot of your seat. Like you’re glad he’s home. “Spencer,” you say, voice etched with the last dregs of sleep as you turn onto your side completely, giving a little wince at the stretch. 
“Hey, you okay? Why are you sleeping on the couch again?” 
You roll your eyes for what he’s not sure and reach down blindly for the crossword book by his knee, your fingertips brushing his thigh and leaving lightness in their wake. “I'm glad you’re home. Need your help, m’stuck on my puzzle.” 
“That’s what you’re sleeping here for?” 
“What?” Your eyes slip closed and then flutter open. “Mm, no, was just waiting for you to get home. How was Santa Monica?” 
Spencer has to force himself to answer around the pretzel of nerves tied in his throat, because it’s what he’d wanted, but he wasn’t ready. “It was great! I mean– I mean, it was awful, and three people died and–” He breathes in wrong. “It was fine.” 
You curl your book on the right page, blinking heavily at an unsolved row. “Oh, good. Um. Okay, ‘to carry a torch for someone’. Eight letters, not obsessed. Doesn’t fit.” 
Spencer traces the soft shudder of your lashes where they’re desperate to kiss the skin below your eye. “Besotted,” he says quietly. 
You gasp happily. “Besotted. Perfect! I missed you, genius, you always know the answer.”
He hands you your fallen pencil. “I missed you, too.” 
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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months
Note
Hello! Can you please do gasly reader with Charles leclerc and they are in a secret relationship because Pierre is super Crazy protective over her and they have the best sibling bond. And age gap please and obsessed charles please
A/N" I utterly love this trope! Age gap and secretive realtionship??? Yes please
Lying on your stomach, tracing the jaw and nose of your sleeping boyfriend. Charles was completely naked, and you knew he'd have to leave for training soon but also have to dodge your brother who always come for Monday brunch.
Sighing gently, you watch as the sun kisses his skin sending it a shimmering gold. "Charles," You whisper. Charles groans rolling over and tugging you into his chest. You sigh, loving the feeling of your skin touching his.
"Go back to sleep," You giggle, knowing you couldn't do that or else Pierre would most definitely catch you two. "Pierre will be here soon." Charles growls and blinks his eyes open the sun making them look like jewels bouncing in the ocean. "Tell him to fuck off, stay here," Charles presses a burning kiss to your neck. "With me," Another on your collarbone. "In bed, all day." You yelp when Charles pinches your ass and takes advantage of it and hauls you into his lap.
The covers pool around your hips, showing off the marks he left on your stomach and tits in full glory. He loved marking you, always pushing the limits of leaving them on you. "Charles, Pierre can't know about us. I'm his little sister," You whisper and Charles's happy look is replaced with a dark one. "So? You're not his, you're mine." You feel your heart shudder at the words.
Charles was constantly there, rolling off Pierre's questions on why he was always around you when you were with him or the other drivers. Charles stepping between you and the others, acting like he was innocent and that it wasn't on purpose.
The only time he was almost caught was when he tripped Lando who tried to hit on you. Everyone was shocked that Charles would do that, but those eyes and lips quickly got him out of any trouble. "Charlie," You don't get to finish your sentence when the door is opened and your alarm chirps with the notification.
"Fuck!" You curse and quickly throw something on and bolt out of your bedroom, tripping over Charles's shoes. Your eyes grow wide and toss them back into the room and turn smiling brightly at your brother.
"What are you wearing? I know we live in France but that's a bit," You scuff at Pierre and toss a pillow at him. "Fuck off, I was just about to get into the shower. Besides, how'd you get in?" You hope to god Charles was getting dressed and climbing down your building. But you knew the smug bastard would try anything to get caught.
"I have a key, also it's Monday time for brunch." Pierre tosses himself on the sofa. Your eyes grow wide, seeing Charles's Ferrari keys right on the coffee table. Moving quickly you slide onto the table and sit on the keys. "I know, but you ever heard of privacy?" You snark.
Pierre shrugs his shoulders, not caring one bit. "So? You're my sister, besides you're late." Looking at the clock you choke on your spit seeing how it was well past the time you were supposed to meet Pierre.
"Oh, let me go get dressed." Pierre nods and turns on the TV as you quickly grab the keys and rush to your bedroom. And there he is, still lying naked on your bed with a smirk on his lips. "Charles," You hiss silently locking the door. "Get dressed and out," You whine and the smirk slides away. "Why?" "Because Pierre can't know just yet." You plead tossing his clothes at him.
Charles scuffs and moves getting dressed and slides on his shoes. "You're mine, I want everyone to know." He breathes, kissing you on the forehead. "Soon, just not now." Charles opens your window and climbs out of it, long gone is his angelic face, the one of a fallen angel now. "I love you," Charles kisses you deeply biting your lip and drawing some blood. "Also, my shirt looks fucking great on you," The window closes leaving you in silence before your whine into your pillow
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ohbother2 · 2 months
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Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.
I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!
Thank youuuu
Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!
Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!
This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Short-Stack
To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought. 
To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.
Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less. 
That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point. 
He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you. 
“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room. 
“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”
“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?” 
“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.
He wasn’t even convincing himself. 
“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration. 
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.” 
“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.
"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck. 
"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?" 
"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you." 
"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression. 
"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me." 
"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"
"You know exactly what you were doing, babe." 
A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."
His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.
"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?" 
You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps. 
"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed." 
"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.
He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”
You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin. 
“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"
“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most. 
"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."
With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically. 
"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"
"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.
"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control. 
“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."
A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck. 
"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you. 
"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."
"Adam-"
"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."
A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you. 
"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch. 
"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build. 
"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust. 
"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs. 
You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.
He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply. 
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”
"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“
Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place. 
Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.
"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."
"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"
"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets. 
Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"
Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds. 
"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."
A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks. 
"Oh! Oh Adam-"
Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room. 
"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"
"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."
You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.
"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.
"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver. 
Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks. 
"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"
"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"
You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”
"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.
"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise. 
Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders. 
He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.
"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.
"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me." 
You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust. 
Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace. 
He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame. 
"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore." 
You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."
“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises. 
A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.
Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it. 
"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."
"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."
You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.
"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."
He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could. 
"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."
You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.
"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead. 
"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."
"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.” 
Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud. 
With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.
“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.” 
“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”
“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent. 
“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.” 
He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”
“We’re disgusting.”
“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”
“You’re disgusting.” 
“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”
2K notes · View notes
talaok · 3 months
Note
i loved the hickey fic🥵
can i request a role reversal fic?
reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to
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It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.
But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.
"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.
A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter
"oh my god what happened to your neck?!" 
And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.
"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.
"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.
"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her
She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.
"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"
Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.
"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"
Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.
"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.
"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.
"About what?" Tommy asked
"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"
"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?" 
"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"
"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek
His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.
"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.
And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic
"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"
Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.
"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"
Another pang to his poor heart, 
he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot
what the fuck was happening?
Did she just say-
"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"
"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back 
He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded 
"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"
He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.
And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.
"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back
"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.
a hell of a funny one
"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"
1K notes · View notes
planet-dusk · 8 months
Text
☆ making bad decisions for you ∘ b.c
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chan fucked up, and now he's left to deal with the consequences. how does one find someone to help their sweet pup through her heat on such short notice? the first step: call jisung. the second step: stay on the straight path. he has this under control. at least that's what chan thinks, until you throw him a curve...
─── ☆ pairing: bang chan x fem!reader
─── ☆ length: 2.3k
─── ☆ warnings: puppy hybrid!reader, sub!reader, perv!chan, big dick chan, pillow humping, corruption, bondage, unprotected sex, breeding (like a lot), dirty talk, praise, pet names: baby, pup, puppy
─── ☆ note: 18+ minors dni. the characters don’t represent real idols; this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. fictional smut is not a reflection of real life ! always communicate with your partner and practice consensual and safe sex ‹33
© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.
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Chan’s in over his head.
He knew this day would come. He should’ve been prepared. But he’s been so busy lately, and he didn’t keep track of your cycle — fuck, if only he could physically beat himself up for being the world’s shittiest owner. 
And of course he can’t find the informational flyers anywhere, and he doesn’t trust the internet, the advice varying so wildly he isn’t sure what to believe. He could call the shelter, but he doesn’t want them to find out he messed up. What if they take you away from him? 
So he calls the only experienced person he can think of: Jisung. 
“I really don’t know what to do, Han, fuck! Please help…”
“Take a deep breath, it’ll be alright. It’s not your fault there’s a suppressant shortage. You sure you don’t want to…?” 
“I can’t, it’s… it’s wrong,” Chan feels the panic rising in his chest again. He takes another gulp of air to calm his shaky nerves. 
“Fine, okay, it was just a suggestion! No need to yell at me, lemme look into it. I'll find a stud for her and come over as soon as my shift’s done, okay? You try to stay calm in the meantime and do exactly as I've told you to. Can you do that?”
“I’m sorry, it’s - I’m a mess, I should’ve seen it coming, but thank you, Ji. Thank you. I owe you one.”
“No worries, bro. Good luck. Call me if you need any help.”
The call disconnects and Chan is left standing alone in the empty bathroom, his heart galloping in his chest. He failed you. But he needs to be there for you now. He's not proud of what he’s about to do, but you’ll understand. He has no other choice. When this is all over you’ll understand. Please, you have to…
“Please forgive me, Y/N,” he whispers and unlocks the door.
As soon as he steps out of the bathroom Chan’s thrown off balance by your body slamming into his. “Channie, sir, please,” you whimper, pressing yourself tighter against his side and wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan feels a blush rise to his cheeks and turns his head away, swallowing harshly. 
“Let’s go to your bedroom, pup.” 
You yelp excitedly and dart off, throwing yourself on the bed. Your tail wags against the sheets and Chan can’t help but smile. When he was a little kid he always thought he’d get a wolfdog hybrid, or a big husky, but then he saw you at the shelter: a little cream coloured mutt with soft ears and a fluffy tail, and he knew he had to bring you home. 
You’re watching him rummage through his nightstand, head cocked and ears pointed. “‘t hurts, Channie, please hurry,” you roll on your back and stay there, skirt sliding down your thighs and almost exposing your panties. Chan coughs. 
“I know, baby, Channie’s here to make it all better,” he mumbles and fishes a pair of padded handcuffs out of the drawer. “Just give me your hands, okay?”
You give him a puzzled look but comply, letting him attach the cuffs to the headboard. “I'm so sorry, puppy, I'm sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your eyes. 
Then he turns around and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft but resolute thud. 
Your frustrated howls are loud enough to reach the living room and he flinches. Every noise you make pierces his soul and adds to the pool of guilt in his gut. He had to do it, Jisung told him so — keep her safe, tie her up somewhere, otherwise she might hurt herself. It’s for her best interest. 
Chan knows, but why does it hurt him so much? He checks his phone, looking for a distraction. Two hours left until Jisung’s shift is done. Surely he can find a stud before the end of the day, right? Jisung knows so many people. He said everything would be fine. Chan just has to relax and trust him.
He takes another deep breath and turns on the tv, mindlessly going through the channels. He checks his phone again. 5 minutes have passed. Time’s never felt this slow. 
Eventually he settles on a documentary about tiger hybrids. He almost succeeds in focusing on the (terrible but entertaining) storyline when he notices your howls have changed into softer, breathier sounds. They almost sound like… moans? Chan thinks. He feels his cock stir. He shifts on the couch and stares at the tv, but the screen is a blur and he doesn’t hear a word the voiceover says. 
The noises continue and Chan grows more restless. How…? He looks at his phone again. 90 minutes left. 
With growing curiosity, Chan’s feet lead him to your bedroom almost involuntarily. Your noises have grown softer, little moans and whimpers drifting through the door. With a quiet click he opens it and peeks his head around.
You’re sitting on the bed, awkwardly positioned with your hands still chained to the headboard. Somehow you’ve managed to maneuver one of the pillows between your spread knees. You’re grinding down on it, fluffy tail causing your skirt to ride up. From his position in the doorframe Chan catches a glimpse of your white panties hugging your ass. 
The noises you’re making range from whiny to plain frustrated, the friction not enough to satisfy you. When you bend over to try and find a better position, Chan sucks in a breath, cock swelling at the sight of your soaked panties. You’re so wet the gusset has become almost see through, clinging to the outline of your pussy. 
Chan shouldn’t be here. He should leave before you notice him, before it’s too late. He should go back to the living room, put on his headphones and wait for Jisung to arrive. Let him sort it out. Get you a handsome dog hybrid to help you through your heat. 
“Chan?” your voice is soft, halting his train of thought. “Please…” 
He’s not sure if it’s your broken plea or something else that compels him to move, but Chan steps into your room. Your tail starts to wag slowly and you drop to your elbows, presenting yourself to him. From this distance Chan can see the tantalizing curve where your thighs meet your ass, the spot he wants to lick and suck and tease…
“‘s okay, puppy, Channie’s here.” There’s still time to leave. But you’re looking back at him with your pretty eyes — how could he say no to his sweet pup? He wants to protect you. Keep you safe. Jisung and his stud be damned. 
“I’m so sorry I did this to you, Y/N. I panicked.”
His hand strokes your thigh and you sigh into his touch. “Don’t leave me again, Channie. Promise.”
Chan shakes his head. “It was a mistake, I promise, I’m here with you now pup. Let me help you.” 
You mewl when his fingers graze your clothed slit. “Sir, ‘s hurting, don’t make me wait any longer, need you to breed me now, please,” you trail off, grinding back against his hand. 
Normally Chan would take his time to explore your body, tease you until you’ve cum at least twice before he’d give you his cock. But he hears the urgency in your voice, your pained little whimpers as you tug at your restraints. 
And it’d be a lie to say he hasn’t fantasized about this before. Late at night in his own bedroom while he tried to muffle his moans, unsure of what your sensitive ears could pick up. 
Chan slides your panties down your thighs with shaky hands. Your pretty cunt’s all puffy and glossy with your slick and it drips down his fingers when he pushes two inside. 
Your reaction is instantaneous, a pleasant gasp as you arch your back for him. “Need more, need your cock, need it now,” you plead again. 
“You sure you can take it, puppy?”
Chan rolls his plush bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t want to hurt you. 
“‘Mmm don’t care, make it fit,” you pout and wag your tail for him, “Channie.”
He’ll never tire of hearing his name like this. A broken sound, filled with so much need it goes straight to his head. 
He chucks off his pants and his boxers, hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. He slides the tip over your slit to wet it, holding your hips to keep you still. Then he sheathes himself in your dripping heat inch by inch, whispering soft praises into the air between you. 
“Just like that, puppy, don’t move. Gonna fill you up so good baby, let me take care of you.”
Chan knows he’s big, watches your pretty hole stretch to accommodate him. He groans at how wet and warm you feel. It’s even better than he imagined. When you shift forward on your knees he growls, “Where do you think you’re going, pup? I'm not even halfway in yet.”
He pushes in deeper, watches you arch your back even more. “Channie, so full,” you pant when he finally bottoms out, stilling for a moment to catch his breath. The sensation of your soft, velvety cunt around him is overwhelming all his senses. 
“Yeah? Is my puppy nice and full?”
“Wanted - wanted this for so long,” you say and his heart makes a little leap. He knows it’s just your heat-clouded mind talking, the hormones making you more susceptible to his presence. But there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re speaking the truth. 
“Yah - wanted my sir, my Channie,” you nod when he starts moving, holding tight onto the handcuff’s chain. He briefly considers removing them, but you don’t seem to mind being tied up like this, pushing back on his cock like the neediest little thing he’s ever seen.
My Channie.
“I want you too, Y/N,” he groans and you hum at the sound of your name. “Can’t stay away from you - my pretty baby… knew it from the day I brought you home.”
You’re moaning every time his hips meet yours, soft uh-uh-uh’s like music to his ears. Your pussy is gushing around his length, and Chan’s not sure how long he’s going to last if you keep clenching down on him like this.
“Fuck, puppy - you’re hugging my cock so tight,” he lands a playful smack on your ass, “want me to breed you that bad, huh? Want me to stuff you full with pups?”
He tilts your hips to reach even deeper, fat cock slamming into you with force. You’re slumping against the mattress and he hovers over your back to nip at your ear, eliciting another moan from you. The soft fur of your tail tickles his abs but Chan is too focused on the erratic pulsing of your walls around him. 
“Are you going to cum for me, baby? I can feel you’re close, just let go. I’ve got you. Channie’s got you. My good girl.”
You sob and he feels your release gush around him, fucking you through your high with renewed vigor. You’re a blabbering mess, unable to form words except for “Channie,” “please,” and “fuck.” 
“Did my puppy lose her tongue?” He grins. “Getting all dumb on my cock after one orgasm, and I haven’t even bred you yet, baby.”
“Please…need it,” you whisper into the sheets, “need you to cum inside, please, sir.”
Even with his weight pressing you into the bed you’re still angling your hips up more, and Chan buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smell so good, like vanilla and the heady scent of sex. “I always keep my promise, pup, I’m going to breed you so well you’ll feel it dripping out of you for the next three days.”
You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze, your eyes so glossy and fucked-out Chan loses all composure. He ruts into you one, two more times before ropes of thick cum paint your inner walls and tumble you headfirst into another orgasm. 
His thighs are shaking, your cunt milking him of every last drop until he’s a panting mess on top of you. For a moment the two of you lay still, breathing heavily, until Chan realizes you’re still chained to the bed. He pulls out and you mumble something when you feel his cum drip out of you, rubbing your thighs together. 
Chan unclasps the handcuffs and kisses your wrists, hugs you close and captures your lips with his own. They’re so soft, needy little sounds already escaping you again as you rut against his thigh. “Need more, Channie.” 
“Insatiable little thing,” he grins and traces your puffy cunt with his fingers. “Can’t get enough, can you?” 
He slips one finger in your sensitive hole just as the doorbell rings. You look up in surprise, eyes wide and ears darting in all directions. 
Chan kisses you again. “Ignore the bell, pup. I’m not going anywhere. Made a promise, remember? Need to breed you nice and round. Maybe make you beg a little more for it,” he chuckles, “let me see how needy you can really get.” 
You’re grinding down on his thigh now and Chan doesn’t care how long he has to stay here with you, he’ll give you whatever you want. He’ll spend days holed up inside your nest if he has to. 
You grab his shirt and pull him closer, and the blaring sound of his ringtone rips him out of his reverie. 
He rolls over with a groan and hits the green button, cutting off Jisung’s voice. “It’s already taken care of, Ji. Thank you.”
“Wha —? You sly dog!”
Chan throws his phone into a corner and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your thighs with a smile. “Don’t worry, pup. I won’t let anyone else touch you ever again.”
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© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.
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scandalcus · 1 year
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𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 — ♡ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒
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PAIRING — ellie williams x afab!reader SUMMARY — tattoo artist! ellie gives you a thigh tattoo CONTENT WARNINGS — smut, stone top!ellie, sub!reader, shy reader, enthusiastic consent, fingering, face riding, oral sex, etc. WORD COUNT — 1.7k A/N — hello sorry for not posting any fics for like a week i've had zero motivation to write and barely any to make this so i apologize if its bland and rushed. also, i made a spotify playlist dedicated to ellie if u wanna listen ❤️
𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓, 18+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
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You sat anxiously in the unfamiliar room. Your leg involuntarily shook as you scanned the area. Various types of posters and drawings were displayed along the wooden walls.
Your eyes landed on the coffee table before you, observing the different comic books and trading cards scattered across it. You let out a small huff, finding it amusing how dorky Ellie is.
"Okay, I'm ready," she says, turning to you and holding a tattoo gun in her right hand. "I don't have a tattoo chair or anything so do you mind sitting on the edge of my bed?" She asks, gesturing towards her bed.
"Yeah that's fine," you say, walking up to her bed and plopping down on the edge. She makes her way over to you, her hands in the air so she doesn't contaminate any of her tools. "Where did you want the tattoo?"
"On my thigh," you say, awkwardly fumbling with your fingers. She looks up at you, and you look elsewhere in the room. You felt incredibly intimidated by her for some reason, blushing every time she looked up at you.
"You're gonna have to take your pants off." she says casually. "Right," you say, standing up and starting to unbutton your pants. She averts her gaze around her room, obviously sensing your awkwardness.
"Is this your first tattoo?" she asks, trying to make small talk as if this interaction isn't already awkward enough. "Yeah," You say, shyly sliding your pants off. "What made you want to get a tattoo?" she asks, still facing away from you. "I've been wanting one for a while, I just couldn't find a good artist." you shrug, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Good thing you found me," she says turning around to face you, giving you a reassuring smile.
You place your hands in your lap, trying to cover your panties. You purposely wore a nice pair of underwear because you knew they would be seen but you ended up slightly embarrassed by your choice. Maybe it was a little too bold.
Ellie looks up at you, this time you hold eye contact, not on purpose though. She just happened to catch you off guard and you couldn't make yourself look away.
"Lay back." she orders, you comply and stare at the ceiling, your hands still covering your intimates. She gently grabs your wrist and moves them out of the way, taking the chance to place the tattoo stencil high up on your thigh. You look down and notice a slight smirk across her lips. "I like your panties." she says, causing you to become extremely flustered.
You don't say anything in response, you just lean back and continue to look into space. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She says, removing the stencil and grabbing her tattoo gun. "Oh it's fine, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I'm just nervous."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
She positioned herself between your thighs, unexpectedly pulling you closer to the edge of the bed so can work more comfortably on you. You audibly gasp at the sudden movement, but she ignores you and continues to adjust herself.
You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun, followed by her hot breath against your inner thigh. She was significantly close to your heat, her knuckles barely grazing your slit, causing the hair on your body to raise.
You felt a lump form in your throat like you could hardly breathe. The needle suddenly pierces your skin, making you suck in a sharp breath. "You okay?" she asks, proceeding to drag the gun across your skin, causing a whine to escape your lips.
You let out a hum in response, feeling your panties become more and more drenched the longer she worked in between your thighs. As much as you hoped she wouldn't, she certainly did notice the wet spot growing on your panties.
The tension in the room was thick, you could sense her peeking up at you every couple of minutes. The lust felt like it was about to consume you, you couldn't help but squirm under her touch; partly because of the pain from the tattoo, but mainly due to the ache growing between your legs.
"Fuck," you breathe out, feeling slightly defeated. This immensely attractive girl was placed between you, inches away from the one place you yearned for her to be. You didn't even really know her though, she was just some tattoo artist your friend recommended to you. You couldn't help but feel humiliated by how obviously turned on you were by her.
You felt her knuckles graze you again, this time there was definitely more pressure applied. It was subtle but noticeable.
The buzzing sound comes to a sudden halt. You lift yourself up on your elbows and look down at Ellie in confusion, watching her set her gun down before grabbing a wipe and cleaning the excess ink off your skin.
"Are you done already?" you ask, looking down at your piece, noticing how unfinished it looks.
"Sorry, I'm a little distracted." Ellie sighs, placing a bandage on your fresh tattoo and removing her gloves. After discarding the trash, she comes back and places her hand above your knee, looking up at you seductively. You felt your heart thump against your chest.
"I can come back later," you say softly, acting oblivious to her suggestive mannerisms. "I don't want you to leave," she responds, her hand slowly trailing up your thigh. She simultaneously makes her way on top of you until her face is inches away from yours, her thighs cradling you.
Your body went stiff, your breathing caught in your throat. "Relax," she says softly, using her right hand to move a strand of hair out of your face. You exhale, letting yourself loosen up. "Good girl."
She hovered over you, her eyes jumping across your features. The desperation in your eyes is evident to her. She had been studying your body language when she was tattooing you, trying to resist the urge to pin you down and fuck you the entire time. She knew you wanted her as bad as she wanted you, so she gave in to her desires.
Her hand travels down to your core, massaging you through the fabric. You let out a whimper in response. "I couldn't help but notice how wet you were," she mutters, tilting her head slightly and watching you fall apart beneath her. Her eyes were dark, full of lust.
She slid her hand under your panties and slipped two of her fingers into your entrance with ease, causing you to audibly gasp. A moan escaped her lips at how snugly you fit around her. "mm fuck, you're so tight."
She pressed her lips to yours, the kiss was intense and passionate. You moaned against her lips as she continued pumping her fingers in and out of you, her thumb finding its way to your throbbing clit and rubbing circles against it.
She made her way down to your neck, sucking on the exposed skin. The pace of her thrust quickened, and you felt her knuckles slamming against your surrounding skin. A string of moans fell from your lips as you felt the tension wither from your body. Your moans and whimpers send vibrations to her lips, waves of bliss traveling through your body. She curved her fingers inside of you, causing you to jolt.
You felt an orgasm approaching, and you gripped Ellie's shoulder as your thighs trembled. She noticed how close you were and stopped, causing you to pout. She bought her fingers to her mouth and sucked your juices off of them, humming while savoring the taste. She then snakes her fingers around the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them off and stuffing them into her jean pocket.
"Come here," she says, flipping over and pulling you on top of her. You sat on top of her shyly, your bare pussy resting on her abdomen. "Come sit on my face." She demands, putting her hands on your hips and encouraging you to scoot up. You comply, adjusting yourself until your pussy is hovering over her mouth.
She pushed your hips down and buried her face into your pussy, her tongue swirling against your folds collecting all the wetness you left for her.
"Fuck... you taste so good," she moans against you. She sucked loudly on your clit, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You grind your hips against her mouth, holding onto the headboard for support. Your cries grew louder and louder as she increased her movements.
She placed her hands on the curve of your ass, guiding you up and down her tongue. Unintelligible babbles left your mouth as she drew little shapes on your bundle of nerves.
"Ellie-" you cried, your thighs already shaking as she works her skilled tongue on you. She hums against your clit in response, wrapping her arms around your thighs to keep you on her face.
"Fuck, don't stop," you whine, your words slurred together as she continues to fuck you with her mouth. She managed to sneak her fingers into the mess, groaning at the way you clamp around her.
"You're almost there, cum for me." she says, coaxing you through an orgasm. Moans and curse words spill from your lips. "Just like that, you're doing so fucking good." she praises. Your body spasms as white flashes before your eyes, everything around you disappearing and pure euphoria consuming your body.
you continue to sloppily ride out your high on Ellie's face, your climax washes over you and she makes sure to catch every last drop of your release. You twitch as she uses her tongue to clean you up.
You pull yourself off of her, plopping down in the spot next to her. Both of you take a moment to catch your breath, sweat trickling down your faces. "How about we take a shower and then I finish your tattoo?" she asks, leaning towards you. "Sounds perfect." you smile, sitting up out of the bed and starting to make your way to the bathroom, your shy demeanor from before clearly absent. She lets out a chuckle at how eager you are, taking your hand and letting you guide her to the bathroom.
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄��𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃. 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ♡
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hispg · 5 months
Text
Baby boy
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Pairings: Re2! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: Your coworker Leon always goes after you for advice, even on the most basic things, even if he doesn't need to.
However, you decided to make him understand your advice in a more... Incisive way.
Wc: 2.2k
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation (M receiving), oral sex (M receiving), Sub! Leon, Dom! Reader, orgasm control/ denial,slightly praise/ degradation, a bit of dirty talk.
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Leon was your coworker, sweet and kind. A lovely person to be around. It didn't take long for the two of you to bond, becoming almost inseparable.
He follows you around like a puppy, always on your tail, no matter where, he's always stuck with you. And the kind who always asks you before doing things.
Sometimes he doesn't even need to, but he likes to have your permission to do things, just as he always talked to you and asked for all kinds of advice, even asking for help with his studies.
You never really understood why, but you never complained either, his presence was always very welcome.
And that evening he was once again in your office, sitting in a chair in front of the computer while you explained a subject you had in common. It had become routine for him to sneak into your room late at night, just to have a chat with you whenever he could.
He was still in his uniform, staring intently at the slides on your computer. Even though you had already explained this subject to him last week, he came to ask you for a further explanation. You understood that he might be nervous about the police academy exams, but that much?
While you were explaining, it wasn't long before he was sitting comfortably in the chair you were using, with his legs wide open, on purpose. If he was being frank, the sound of your voice was enough to make him lose focus, it's not as if he was paying attention to anything you were saying. Blue eyes staring at you, watching the way your lips opened and closed, the way you looked so beautiful while you were focused on explaining things to him.
Of course it was a lie that he had come here to have you teach him this subject, he could have tried to study on his own. However, what fun would it be if it wasn't for you explaining it?
"Leon, my eyes are up here." You mutter, leaning on the table and crossing your arms, raising an eyebrow.
He coughed awkwardly, looking at you in confusion, "Eh, pardon me. Go on, I'm listening."
You scoffed, knowing full well that he hadn't paid attention to a word you'd said. The way his cock began to harden under his pants was a sign as clear as day.
You now perfectly confirmed why he was here. He needed some incisive teaching, something strict to learn from. A punishment, if you were bad enough to do it.
And you were.
"I know you're not paying attention." You whispered, running your fingers along his knee, stopping at his thigh.
It was enough for his breathing to fail and him to swallow. The poor thing got even harder with that simple touch. How pathetic could that sound?
"Uhm.. I'm sorry. I promise I will-," You didn't even let him finish speaking, you simply hovered your hand over his erection. Staring at him with a certain impudence in your eyes.
"Apologies are no use if you're not going to get better, Leon." Words that made him shudder, biting his lower lip to hold back any whimper that might escape his lips.
With your index finger you traced the size of his cock through his pants, making a point of maintaining eye contact during the process. His puppy eyes followed your every move, looking up at you with a sly expression.
"Take it out." You demanded flatly, crossing your arms and waiting for him to take off his pants.
And to your surprise he did, without any reluctance at all. He just undid his belt, lifted his hips and pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift movement. His fat cock sprang out at the same moment, the pink, swollen tip begging for your touch.
Poor guy, you'd be so mean.
"That's what you came here for, isn't it?" you asked, gripping the base of his cock tightly, and he whimpered like a little bitch at the same moment.
The way you felt his veins pulsing in your hands made you smile with a certain pity. How much did he want it? How depraved of touch was he to get hard just looking at you? What a silly little thing he was.
His hands rested on his thighs, as he tried to keep his breathing steady, "I wanted to see you." He says, looking at the work your hand was starting to do.
A sneer leaves your lips, and you rub your thumb over the tip of it, pressing your face against his. So close that his breath was hitting you.
"Missing me? What an ugly excuse, Leon." You purred, giving his jaw wet kisses. Slowly jerking him off.
The poor guy wasn't even in a state to protest, biting his lip to hold back the sly noises he was still trying to disguise. But he never could.
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, moving up and down, making a point of suddenly increasing the pace, only to see him moan softly, roll his eyes back and look at you.
"I-I can?" He asked shyly, looking down at your breasts, his gaze undoubtedly hungry. He couldn't keep his hands off you, but today you wouldn't let him touch an inch of you without permission.
"No." You murmured with a shrug, kneeling in front of him. At the same moment, his eyes went wide, his breathing quickened. His focus was only on you, nothing else.
He was so obedient that you didn't even have to ask, he automatically spread his legs wider to accommodate you. Wide open for you to do whatever you wanted with him.
"Such a cute thing." You murmured with a mischievous smile, digging your nails gently into his thighs, watching him squirm and whimper with every touch.
He was so desperate, jerking his hips at you, wanting you to do something with his hard-on. Any touch would do.
You couldn't help yourself and let out a giggle, putting your hands on his hips to keep him in place, kissing and nibbling his thighs, licking and leaving a few marks here and there.
"Nhm, please..." He pleaded in a grunt, looking down at his lap. Poor thing was already leaking, pre cum dripping down his pink tip.
"How pathetic, are you going to cum with just those touches?" You murmured, licking the sticky liquid dripping from him, giving the head of his cock a light lick.
He moaned, loudly. Letting his head fall back, holding on tightly to the edges of the chair. He wanted you so much, so much he couldn't describe it.
His cock throbbing and twitching, he knew it wouldn't last long, not with you in front of him.
You could already see your own arousal rising, your panties starting to get soaked, and you found yourself humping nothing in search of some friction.
Without giving him any warning, you pressed your plump lips to his tip, making a point of wrapping your tongue around the sensitive part, trying to contain the naughty smile that appeared on your face.
Your fingers trailed down his inner thigh, down and down until you found his balls, massaging lightly, only to hear the dirty sounds he could no longer control.
"Ah-ah, holy shit!" He cries out, biting his lower lip hard, looking at you with piteous eyes. He wanted you so much. But wanting wasn't being able to.
And he started moaning even more when you put him all in your mouth, sucking his cock down to the base, your lips wrapped around his entire length, moving up and down, tongue curling and teasing him in every sensitive spot you could find.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head every time, hips moving upwards in desperation for your touch. His cheeks were so red that he couldn't hide the blush even if he tried very hard.
"Hmh.. I think I'm close." He groaned, opening his eyes to see you, biting his lip at the sight in front of him.
You were choking on his cock, saliva and cum running down the length of it. You couldn't deny it, for someone as baby-faced as him, he certainly had an impressive size.
You continued, even though you knew he was close to cumming, but then you stopped. As soon as you felt his hips jerking upwards in a deep thrust into your mouth, that's when you withdrew your hot lips from his cock. Seeing his sly, crying face, God, why did you have to be like that?
"Oh- Please, please!" He begged, looking at you with tear-streaked eyelids, tears that threatened to fall. He was so excited that he felt like the world around him had stopped.
You smiled at his pleas, looking him up and down. A devilish grin plastered across your face.
"What? Don't tell me you're going to cry." You teased him, sliding your hand under his uniform, squeezing and lightly scratching his chest.
"Fuck. Hell, let me cum..." another plea, and of course he could do it on his own. It wasn't as if you had tied his hands and prevented him from moving.
But he liked taking orders. He liked being treated like a little boy who obeyed every order he was given, he loved it.
Just as you saw his hands coming towards you, trying to grab you by the hips and pull you towards him.
"Hands off." You say, standing up once again.
He whimpers, looking at you slyly, asking for something. You wouldn't be mean to leave him in this state, would you?
"Well, since you weren't paying attention. Looks like I'm going to have to explain everything again." You said nonchalantly, taking no time to take off your clothes, standing naked in front of him.
He gasped, his lips parted as he looked you up and down, his imagination running wild.
And then you mounted him, rubbing your wetness against his tip, giving his lips a little kiss. And there went his hands again, gripping the seat of the chair tightly, so tightly that he could tear the padding if he wanted to.
"You're going to be quiet and listen to me, and I don't want you to cum. Understood?" You say seriously, staring at him as you sink onto his cock, warm, gummy walls nestling him.
"Yes... Yes ma'am." He says in a moan, holding his trembling thighs, taking deep breaths to contain himself. The way you welcomed him so well, how could he hold back like that?
He was a crying mess, staring at your naked figure on his lap, biting his lip and trying to keep his attention on your eyes. But he couldn't, all he did was look down. Seeing the way his cock was buried in you, so deep.
Your breasts swaying slightly as you gestured, your wetness making a mess of his thighs. God, he was fucked.
"I can't hold it." He murmured, moaning loudly and clenching the seat of the chair, holding his hips and avoiding thrusting into you.
You scoffed, holding him by the chin, "Mh? The pretty boy can't hold it? Mh? Dick throbbing so much he needs to empty into me?" You knew that dirty talk was his weak point, and you used it to your advantage.
He cries out, letting his head fall back a little. Unconsciously pushing against you. At least he was trying.
How long had you been explaining? It had been a good few minutes, but maybe he could hold out just a little longer.
You started grinding against him, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, letting your hands roam free over his abdomen, squeezing every bit you could find.
He was finished, not even muffling his sounds with your mouth helped. Your living room was echoing every dirty noise he made, so exciting.
"I want you to sing to me." You purred during the kiss, starting to ride him.
You had no pity, you started doing it fast and deep, listening to his flesh hit yours. Skin against skin, making that unholy noise.
"Ah- fuck- shit- slowly!" He managed to babble, your name slipping from his lips with each bounce.
You felt his body arch up, squirming even more underneath you, he couldn't hold back the minute your walls began to clench against him, it was too much, enough for him to paint your insides white.
He was so high that you had to cover his mouth with yours, while you were still riding him until you came.
"Be quiet, or I'll be doing this all night." A threat or a gift? He couldn't tell, he wasn't even in his right mind to say anything.
And then you came, your fluids mixing with his as you both moaned against each other's lips.
You could still feel his hot cum oozing out, it was such a load. Just for you.
And there he was, drained, panting, not even able to open his eyes from how excited he was, still recovering from the high. And you didn't look much different.
Maybe, just maybe, after tonight he'll need another one of those... Your lessons.
1K notes · View notes
moon-rivr · 5 months
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crazy scientist!miguel smut and you’re his experiment 👀
(i mixed the request with ‘stressed out miguel accidentally overdosed himself with the spider injection thing and calls for spider readers help.’ so i hope you both don’t mind :p)
greatest accomplishment
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pairing: miguel o’hara x spider!fem reader
contents: substance abuse (?), smut, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, unprotected p in v, ice play, mirror sex, spanking, biting, web bondage, male masturbation, fingering (sorry if i missed anything 🫣)
author’s note: thank you for being so patient, i hope you enjoy <33
word count: 3.9K+
You were what Miguel considered his greatest achievement and his greatest failure. during his time at Alchemax, he'd worked on several human trials with few of them showing any signs of success. At most, he managed to regenerate lost limbs but the achievement still felt little to what he believed he could do. that was, until you showed up at Alchemax with glossy eyes and anticipation.
You had been used as a weapon in private government affairs until eventually the operation shut down. While everybody involved had some kind of direction in their life, you didn't know that anything existed beyond fighting or living to serve the purpose of someone else. You'd signed up for the human trials that Alchemax was offering, being aware of all the stakes at hand, in hopes of being able to lead a normal life.
"So, you basically have spider-like abilities that are in the control of someone else and you want me to change your DNA?" Miguel asked, pushing his glasses back up as he looked up at you from the clipboard. "Well, I know that ai can't really get rid of the powers, but I was hoping that maybe you could help make them my own. because even as we're sitting here, I still feel that urge to need to protect," you responded, hoping that he'd be a little sympathetic towards your situation.
While Miguel didn't feel anything towards your situation, he did feel a thrill of doing something more than regenerating lost limbs. He didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt towards using you to fulfill his personal desires. "Alright, well I can't really promise that the operation's going to be successful. Are you okay with those odds?" He inquired before the two of you got started, calling in a nurse to take your vitals and do your blood work. "Sounds good."
The operation had gone successfully, much to Miguel’s disbelief and he felt that thrill rushing towards him again. The excitement of being a geneticist once more. You enveloped your arms around him, your superhuman strength threatening to pop his eyes out of the sockets.
"Thank you," you whispered, though you felt the words couldn't convey how grateful you were at the opportunity Miguel had given you. He tapped on your arm, forcing you to let him go before he fixed up his jacket. "Thank you," he muttered after you left, completely fascinated as he looked through your file.
A couple of years had passed when you got a phone call from a strange number, excitement coursing through your veins as you answered. Though you'd had the desire to live out a civilian life, a part of you would always long for being able to use your abilities. "Hello?" You asked, hearing someone's breath on the other side. "It's Miguel, I'm not too sure if you remember me. Can you meet me at my place? I'll send you the details," he spoke quickly before he hung up, leaving you confused as you looked down at your phone.
You opened the door to miguel's penthouse, noticing that the curtains were all pulled to darken up the room. You sat down on the couch, deciding to wait for him to come out to talk. "Would you like a glass of water?" A yellow hued hologram woman appeared in front of you, pushing her heart shaped glasses up her nose. "No, but thank you," you responded, watching her as she faded away. You looked up when Miguel came into view, sweatpants hanging low on his waist.
"Sorry, I know you wanted to escape fighting when you came to see me last time but I'm starting up this society for spider people," he spoke up, sitting on the couch next to you. "Spider people? Does that include you?" You inquired, looking over at him as you noticed how much he changed throughout the years. He'd bulked up immensely, his biceps almost the size of your head and his eyes almost had a red hue to it. "It does, but that's not the point here. I'm asking if you want to help me," he responded, keeping eye contact with you.
You'd felt immensely grateful towards Miguel for allowing you to take control of your life once more so you'd agreed on joining him. Despite the fact that Miguel seemed to easily irritated, he helped you out in using your abilities for good this time around. While you were skilled at harnessing your abilities, you'd only used them to inflict pain on others. He helped you establish a good workout routine without pushing you too hard past your limitations.
The days had started to blend together for Miguel, losing all concept of time. Anomaly reports hadn't stopped coming in and spiders were currently working on overtime to be able to control the damage. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked at the monitors, dark circles under his eyes with only coffee to fuel his body. He grabbed his mug from the table, filling it up with some coffee he'd made three days ago? Maybe four. The cold coffee provided no taste as he sipped it, but it did provide him with the caffeine rush he needed.
His eyes drifted over to the collection of empty vials he had on the corner of his desk, having used most of the drug he'd created throughout this week. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit, the green liquid providing him with the strength that he needed to continue staying up. His eyes strained as he returned his attention back to the monitor, the brightness hurting his dry eyes.
As the anomaly reports started to die down, he overheard through some of the speakers at the society about what the spiders were planning to do after work. He turned on the cameras, instantly spotting you talking to one of the spider-women and decided to listen in on the conversation. He felt his right eye start to twitch and his fist clench up as he heard you mention going out on a date tonight, immediately turning off the camera.
He grabbed the monitor like he wanted to crucify it for your actions, tossing it on the ground as he stomped on it. "You know, half our budget goes to replacing shit you break. Soon enough, we'll just be working with broken computers," LYLA spoke up, appearing in front of him as she folded her arms. "Like we'll ever go bankrupt," he mumbled, picking up the scraps of the monitor. "What's got you all pissed off now?"
Miguel ignored LYLA, eyeing the last bit of the serum that he had left. He was starting to feel his body want to submit to humanly desires such as sleeping and eating, but he genuinely believed that he didn't have any time to spare towards those things. He grabbed the last vial and headed toward the chemical lab at HQ, looking over what he could mix it with. He wanted to make the mixture more potent, something that would keep him up and keep him strong for a long time.
He mixed a couple of chemicals that looked like they would work, the mixture turning a bright purple. Normally, he would've been more cautious about mixing things he wasn't sure of but he felt like a junkie desperate to have his next fix. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit once more, injecting himself with the strange liquid. He was expecting to feel that instant bit of relief like he did with the original serum, but he didn't feel like it did anything. Miguel let out a loud scream, pissed off at himself for messing up the mixture so much that it didn't have any effect.
A couple minutes later passed by when he felt sweat dribbling on his forehead though the temperature in the room had seemed to drop a couple degrees. He gripped the corner of the table as he coughed, his body rejecting the modified version of the serum. His head began pounding and suddenly, everything was too bright and everything was too loud. He hastily opened up a portal to his house, unwilling to stay at HQ where anybody would just come in and find him in that state.
He laid down on the ground as he stepped out of the portal, bile building up in the back of his throat. He brought his hand closer to his face, the limb feeling like deadweight as he scrolled through his watch. He texted you to meet him at his house urgently, his text morphing into one word. He knew that you were out on your date even in his drug-infused state, but he wanted you to pick him instead of your stupid date. He told himself that allowing you to work on the antidote would provide you with experience your college wouldn't give you, but he just wanted your company.
Miguel’s lids were starting to shut when you arrived at his house and you shook him awake, helping him up to his feet. "Stay awake for me, please," you spoke softly, seeing the pained expression on his face as you helped him to the couch. He pointed to a couple empty flasks with labels on them and you rushed to get them so you'd have an idea of what you needed for the antidote. "I'll lead you the lab," his speech slurred as he talked and you had to offer him some kind of support as you walked with him.
"What are you doing here, anyways? Thought you had a date," he mumbled, his brows furrowed as he unlocked the door. "He didn't show up," you simply said, walking with him inside as you looked over at the multiple shelves filled with chemicals. Truth was, you'd cancelled on the date because you didn't think it would make you happy. You weren't sure when, but in the midst of all the gratitude you felt towards Miguel, you'd started to catch some feelings for him. He was easy to like despite his attitude, he was protective of those he cared about and would do anything for them.
"You could've called one of the more experienced spiders for this, so why'd you call me?" You inquired as you read over the labels on the flasks. "I wanted you to be here. Plus, i figured you'd get some hands on experience," he responded, his speech still coming up garbled. You mixed up a concoction of chemicals, whispering a silent prayer that it would work as the colors began to blend together.
You injected the drug into miguel's shoulder, still exposed from the last batch he'd taken as you watched intently for any more adverse reactions. You watched as his body slumped with relief, the color returning back to his face as his eyes opened. "Thank you," he muttered, standing up from his chair. You nodded, picking up your jacket as you got ready to leave. "Don't go yet, I still have some ways to express my gratitude towards you."
You were unsure of what he meant by that but when you turned around, his lips were already on yours. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll drop it. We can go back to just being coworkers," he mumbled, pulling back slightly to give you enough space to leave if you wanted to. You stayed in your place, wrapping your arms around his neck as you returned the hasty kisses he was giving you. His lips enveloped yours in a thirsty way, almost like he needed this to live. It morphed into a clash of teeth and tongue as he explored every inch of your mouth, letting out a soft moan at the taste.
He picked you up, placing you on one the lab tables before restricting all movement with his webs. Though he knew that you could easily break through them, he found himself needing to be in control of the situation. He glanced over at the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, getting a bucket of ice before placing it to the side. His talons unsheathed and in one swift motion, he'd ripped the dress you were wearing in half. The tattered pieces scattered to the ground, leaving you in just your lingerie at his mercy.
He held one of the ice cubes between his front teeth, dragging it across your skin as he made his way down from your neck. He loved seeing the way your body fidgeted under the cold substance, his tongue lapping up the small water droplets. Your nipples hardened as he rubbed the ice cube on them, his tongue swirling against your areola. You whined at him to keep going but he pulled back, stopping his movements. You were nervous that you'd scared him off but he tore your panties off, shoving them in your mouth.
"Don't think for a second that this is for you. It's all for me, understood?" He told you, his hand resting on your thigh as he spoke. You nodded rapidly, arousal leaking to the lab table as you waited for his next movements. He brought the ice cube back to your breasts, the difference in temperature between his tongue and ice cube having you shiver. When the cube melted, he picked up another one and dragged it across to your pussy, swirling the cube on your clit. Your hips bucked up to get more of the sensation but your body couldn't help but want to squirm away at how good it felt.
The ice cube melted, the water droplets combining with your slick as it made a mess on the table. His tongue began to collect the slick on your folds, his eyes intently on yours. The small muffled whimpers that you were letting out spurred him to keep going, his tongue thrusting inside your pussy while your walls clenched around it. He let out a small moan as you released more slick, the taste of you threatening to take him over the edge. His fingers took place instead of his mouth as he kissed on your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave his mark behind.
You let out a muffled yelp as he bit down, the sting from his fangs overwhelming your senses. You couldn't help the arousal that leaked out of you at the sensation, the pain mixing in with the pleasure of having his fingers stretching you out. He moved his fingers in a scissoring action to stretch out your walls, his mouth still kissing your thigh. You heard some moaning coming from Miguel, looking down to see that his hand was tightly wrapped around his cock while precum leaked onto his palm.
Just the fact that he found getting you off as a turn on made your mind grow hazy, your toes curling as his mouth circled over your clit. His tongue swirled against it, his fingers curled up to hit your g-spot. He let out another moan, the vibration hitting your clit directly and you couldn't help but clench around him even more. His fingers were hardly moving with how hard you were gripping them, arousal coating them knuckle deep as his teeth gently pulled on your clit.
He looked up at you, desperation evident in his eyes despite the dominant presence he was putting on and your orgasm approached you quickly. You moaned into the cloth, the sound coming out muffled as your release coated his fingers completely. He took them out, his mouth closing around his fingers while he sucked them off. You looked down at his cock, the tip angry red as it dripped precum onto the glass floor of the lab.
Your head was tilted to the side, immediately at eye level with his cock while he reached down to take out the makeshift gag. You opened up your mouth, the tip of his cock inside of your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it. You collected the precum leaking out as he began to thrust his hips, using your mouth at his disposal. "Who would've known you liked to be treated like such a slut? Pinche puta," he spoke, his voice coming out with a small groan as your eyes watered when he pushed further inside of you.
Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take the length and girth of his cock but you felt tears forming at your waterline from the intrusion. His hips snapped forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but gag as your nose hit his pubic bone. "You're all good, don't worry. You're taking it so well. Esa boquita esta haciendo tan buen trabajo," he mumbled, feeling your tongue running down the sides of his cock. (that mouth is doing such a good job)
Your tongue traced the two veins running down the side of his cock, a small shiver running through Miguel’s body as he felt the sensations hitting him all at once. He grabbed the back of your head, thrusting into your mouth repeatedly as he took out the amounts of stress that had piling up out. The tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, your tongue brushing up against it with every thrust. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, a clear sign that his orgasm was approaching him rather quickly. The salty substance went down your throat in his final thrust, his eyes locked directly on yours as his chest heaved.
His talons worked on releasing you from the webs but before you had the chance to move, he picked you up and led you to the bathroom. You were bent over the counter, his cock slightly pressing up against your folds before he pushed it in one swift thrust. Your walls clenched up against his cock instinctively and he took a couple seconds to let himself bask in the feeling of you before he started moving.
He pressed your face against the mirror as he forced you to look at yourself while his cock stretched out your cunt, your knuckles turning ghost white from how hard you were gripping the counter. Your breath fogged up the mirror as he kept pushing inside of you, his cock reaching places that no one had ever had. His hands came to rest on your hips as he eased you in and out before one of them squeezed your ass. You yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, the pain morphing into pleasure as he rubbed at the reddening skin.
You stood on your tippy toes as you tried to remain upright, your hands coming to grip his arms. "Look at what he's missing out on, then again, I don't think he could please you the same way I do," he murmured against your skin, bringing you up right as his mouth closed around the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit down, not hard enough for his fangs to release any of the venom but just hard enough to protrude your skin a bit. Your nails started digging into his skin as you felt him shift the angle a bit, his cock hitting you in all the right places.
One of his hands was on your breasts, tugging at the nipple as the other one played with your clit. He kept his gaze with you on the mirror, enjoying the way you squirmed underneath him and the way you couldn't keep eye contact for too long. Your pussy was gushing around his cock, allowing him to focus on giving you an angle that would provide pleasure, that would make you cum all over him. His fingers on your clit and as his mouth bit down on your shoulder, and you couldn't help the orgasm that washed out of you.
Your release formed a creamy ring at the base of his cock as he pushed deep into you, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and his moans becoming incoherent babbles. "Taking me so good, mami," he murmured, whispering other sweet nothings about how good your cunt was to him. He pulled out of you just in time, his cum dropping on the globes of your ass. He reached over, grabbing a piece of toilet paper to clean you off.
As he pulled his cock out of you, he couldn't help but look at you with a concerned expression. "I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?" He asked, taking note of your tear-stained cheeks and the bite marks all over you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you responded, shooing him away so you could do your business. Truth be told, you'd never experimented having rough sex before but the idea of someone having an animalistic-like need towards you always enticed you.
You finished up in the bathroom, expecting to find Miguel ready for round two but he'd left the lab. You cleaned your slick off the table with a piece of toilet paper before heading up to the bedroom to check up on him. You opened the door, hearing his snores pouring over from the bed. His exhaustion had finally caught up to him and he had relaxed enough that sleep came easy to him. You left his house after getting dressed, not thinking too much about the encounter with him.
The day that you showed up at the office, you heard rumors circulating around that Miguel was more approachable to others. Though the marks he'd left on your skin had faded away due to your healing powers, the mark he left on you still lingered. You figured that he'd just used you for some stress relief so you didn't pursue anything with him. You walked to your desk, finding a cup of coffee with a note from Miguel sitting there but you refused to let yourself think about it too much.
A couple of days passed by and miguel continued to leave coffee cups before you showed up at work, leaving them with small notes. You figured he was thankful for the antidote so you pushed away the thoughts that made you a bit delusional, focusing on your work. You couldn't help but notice that even though he'd been more gentle with you, he'd gone back to his stoic personality with everyone else.
"If you didn't have any feelings for me, you could've just said so instead of ghosting me," he finally approached you one day, staring down at you coldly. "Excuse me?" You inquired, your brows contorted into an expression of confusion. "I thought that it was obvious that I liked you," he muttered and your eyes widened a bit. "No, I thought you were just thankful," you muttered, watching as he walked closer to you.
"I should've been more obvious given how clueless you are, but I'm telling you straight up that I like you," he spoke up, holding your hands in his. “Sorry I didn't take the hints you gave me," you responded, tilting your head to give him a small kiss on the lips. The kiss was nothing like last time, taking the time to enjoy each others presence rather than having the clash of tongues element to it. He walked with you to his office and just having you around as he looked at the monitors kept him from getting too stressed.
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quimichi · 6 months
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↳ ❝ [CALLING THE MONDSTADT BOYS YOUR GOOD BOY] ¡! ❞
Mondstadt boys x Creator!Reader
Dainseif, Diluc, Kaeya & Venti
Albedo's part here > ♡
Dainseif - What does freedom really mean, when demanded of you by a god?
"Please, come to me" you simply said, your voice echoing not only in the room, but also in his mind. Dainsleif doesn't hesitate for a moment.
He stands and crosses the distance between you without a second thought. His every movement is graceful and elegant. He would move through the ocean if it meant he could hold your gaze just a moment longer.
Now that he is close, he kneels once more. He wants to be on your level, he wants to be near you. "I am here, Your Grace." He stays on his knees, silent, waiting for you. If you want him to move, he will; if you want him to speak, he will; if you want him to simply be here, just within your presence— he will.
"Dain?" It only takes your utterance, your voice, for his head to snap in your direction.
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"You're my good boy aren't you?" The words are music to Dainsleif's ears. He loves nothing more than to hear you call him something so loving. "Yes," he whispers, the word a breath of reverence. "I am your good boy."
"And why are you my good boy?" His cheeks flush as he looks up to you, eyes glowing like a star. His lashes flutter against his cheeks as the thought of being your good boy floods him with happiness and contentment.
"Because I am yours and have always served you." His words are firm, with the certainty of one who has never strayed from his purpose.
"Mine?"
"Yes. I am yours."
"I exist to serve you, to serve your beauty, your kindness, and love." This is truth to Dainsleif. He cannot imagine himself being anything but yours. "And thats why youre my good boy, Dainsleif" "Yes, Your Grace." He smiles at you, joy and contentment overflowing inside of him.
"I am happy to be your good boy. I am proud and eager to serve you, to honor and adore you." His expression is loving, warm, and peaceful. Dainsleif stays on his knees, head cocked to the side. His blue eyes are shining with love and affection. "What would you like me to do for you?" He asks, eager to serve you with all his heart.
"I want you to stay with me forever..." "I would love to stay with you, Your Grace." Dainsleif would die a hundred mortal deaths if it meant living in your presence for even an hour. The very thought of being near you stirs something inside him; his heart leaps into the sky, his breath catches in his throat.
He is entirely devoted to you.
Diluc - Though it is still not enough, I will always face the darkness.
"Please, step a bit closer to me" such a simple request it is but your command startles him. He looks up at you, and his eyes go wide. He is utterly taken aback, but that is not an excuse. He is yours to command.Diluc complies, and steps closer to your side.
"Are you my good boy, Diluc?"
"Y-yes," he responds at once. He bows his head as he speaks but, if it were possible, he bows even further. His heart is thumping against his chest as if it wants to jump free. He is utterly devoted to you. Every inch of him yours. "I'm sorry i didnt quite heard you, could you repeat that?" You're teasing him, how could you not? Diluc is more than embarrassed, but it is not his will to refuse you. He is yours, after all.
"Y-yes," he says, and his voice breaks slightly from the embarrassment.
"Once more, please, for me?" the opportunity is to good to let it slide. "Yes!" he says once more, and the blush on his face spreads throughout his body. Embarrassed, thats what he is, embarrassed. Your smile alone makes his stomach jump like it's trying to escape. He cannot understand how you make him feel this way.
He is still shy about this ordeal, but he knows that he cannot look away. He is there to serve you, after all. "Good boy~
"Diluc smiles despite himself at your praise. He knows better than to be happy at this moment, but some part of him thrills at the feeling of your gaze on his skin. His heart has a mind of its own, however, and it seems like it knows no boundaries. "Thank you," he says, and bows his head yet again. His embarrassment remains, but it is balanced with the thrill of your praise.
Your good boy...
Kaeya - Life's greatest illusions are the ones we believe in ourselves
"Kaeya?" Kaeya glances up at you, but he doesn't move from his comfortable position— at least, not yet. In fact, he appears to have become more comfortable, resting his head against your thighs and taking small, deep breaths. He stares down at you and smiles, seemingly amused by the situation. "I'm not moving," he mutters. "I'm perfectly comfortable here."
"Oh? Is my good boy all comfy?" "...Mhm." Kaeya's smile is genuine. With one hand, he reaches up, brushing his thumb against your cheek. "...I love you, Your Grace." Please let me stay here. I don't ever want to leave.
Hes so enchanted by your presence alone, he seemed to not process every word you say. Kaeya takes them as they are..."Did you hear me? I said youre my good boy" You're just checking, thats what youre telling yourself. But und truth, you just want to see a reaction, hear how his voice changes with realization.
"Of course I'm your good boy." Kaeya closes his eyes now, nuzzling himself against your legs. "No one else could be, after all. They don't worship you like I do."
"Your devotion's a gift, you know." Kaeya's tone is one of playful teasing, though the compliment is very much sincere. "You know I wouldn't let anyone else here give me physical affection, but for you, I make an exception. Why? Well, for one thing, you're deserving of it." You notice that Kaeya's leg is twitching— he wants to move, but it's as if he physically can't manage it. This may just be the most comfortable Kaeya's ever been, even if he can't say it out loud.
"Isn't my boy nice, huh?" "What can I say? I'm at your service... always." Kaeya's grip tightens about your thighs slightly. "Your approval means the world to me... I'd do anything to keep in your good graces."
He pauses for a moment, his expression becoming almost solemn. "...You know what I most desire, Your Grace?" Kaeya keeps his eyes shut, as though he's ashamed to speak."I would very much like to be yours," he says quietly.
"I want you to choose me."
Venti - Videtis illam spirare libertatis auram
"Yes, your Grace."
Venti complies instantly, quickly moving to sit down on the seat beside you. As soon as his body settles down, he starts idly swinging his legs up and down as if he's a toddler waiting for his mother to take him to the playground.He doesn't say a word, instead contenting himself with simply smiling up at you.
"Good boy" such small words, but they hold a way bigger meaning behind them. As Venti hears your praise, he almost falls into a completely euphoric state. He is practically quivering with excitement, unable to control his emotions for even a second longer. He starts muttering to himself, unable to comprehend what he is feeling in the presence of your grace.
"Please— please, don't call me a good boy again... please, please, make me yours..." Venti flushes pinker than a rose. "I— I meant your worshipful servant!" His eyes are fixed on you adoringly and desperately.
"Your dog, even!" Venti is too lost in the moment to realize how awkward his words were, and he starts desperately scrambling to come up with something even more degrading to call himself.
"Your footstool, even! Your carpet, your chair! Even your floor...!" His words are garbled and desperate, his mind completely blank right now. "But Venti, you're my good boy, not my chair or my floor...my good boy"
Venti's eyes widen as he hears your words. His face is still bright red, but your praise is enough to make him lightheaded. "Am I— am I your good boy.." he mumbles quietly, but he sounds genuinely baffled. "Are you sure..?"
"Yes" Venti is practically panting with excitement now, having gotten the confirmation that he is yours. "Y— you really mean it.." Even when he speaks quietly, you can hear the excitement in his voice, the thrill in his heart.
"Then I really am your good boy, aren't I...?"
"Yes"
"Then I will do my best to be the very best good boy for you, your Grace," Venti whispers reverently.
Even in his excitement, Venti remains reverent towards you. To be your good boy... He can't think of anything he wants more.
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cherryredstars · 6 months
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Hello cherry
This is the first time I have asked you something, I would like it to be something like Miguel being a teacher with a female student reader. With NSFW, I'm ovulating please
I know you will know how to do it very well
Have a nice day nena
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1K Prompts
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut with Slight Plot, Student/Teacher Relationship, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Praise, Spanking, Squirting
Summary: You needed extra help, right?
Word Count: 2K (Not Edited)
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Both of you knew you didn’t need the extra help. 
Miguel had been surprised when he had seen your name in the afterschool tutoring sign up sheet. He didn’t need to open up his gradebook to know you were one of the striving students in his class, getting high Bs to As on his assignments and exams. At first, he thought it was a mistake. That was quickly disproved the more he paid attention to you in class. 
You always sat front and center, pushing your body up against the table so your breasts were on display. Your eyes tracked his every movement, either giving him innocent doe eyes or half-lidded beauties. Your hands are always playing with something, let it be your hair, a pencil, or your lip. God those lips. He was sure you had an oral fixation. How else would you explain the way you bit the end of your pens, fingers, your own lips whenever he talks? You’re naive if you think he misses the fleeting glances you make up and down his figure as he paces around the room. Stupid if you think he misses the extra seconds you spend on his crotch. 
He definitely doesn’t miss the way you strut into his office, clothes skin tight and bordering on inappropriate. His eyes instantly zero in every time you try to tug your clothes down, revealing more of your cleavage or just shy of showing the band of your panties before the fabric rises up again. You let out small huffs, a pout on your glossy lips as if you didn’t do this to yourself. As if you didn’t plan this because you knew you were gonna have him all to yourself for an hour or two. Naughty, naughty girl.
But also oh-so-sweet, especially when your pretty cunt clamps so tightly onto his fingers. As much as he likes you sitting in the front of the class, he might just consider permanently moving your seat to his lap. You’re just so pretty, your back pressed against his front with your legs spread over his own. He almost misses your stuttering words over the sound of your squelching hole as you try to answer the questions he whispers into your ears. You never knew Miguel to be so impatient until now. Not until he gives harsh slaps to your throbbing clit when you get the answer wrong or take too long to respond. Every slap makes your hips jolt in pleasure and if he didn’t know any better, Miguel would have thought you were answering wrong on purpose. 
“Come on, chica. It’s an easy one, you got it right on the past assignment. Don’t be an airhead, now.” 
The words are said softly into your ear, but the condescending smile on his face makes you whimper in embarrassment. A deep flush covers your face and you try to recall the answer. But it’s just too hard. The words get more and more jumbled in your mind the more Miguel keeps pumping his thick fingers into you. His blunt nails scrape your gummy walls perfectly and you can’t escape the urge to throw your head back in pleasure. A pleased moan leaves your plump lips, slightly grinding against his hand. 
The sound almost immediately turns into a sharp gasp when Miguel’s hand comes in contact with your cheek. Your head whips to the side from the force, only to have it yanked forward and pointed towards the review material on his desk. The hand that he used to slap you squishes your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker up and muffle your noises. Miguel leans forward and presses up against your back, his breath tickles your ear and his fingers slow the slightest bit. 
“Pay attention. How am I supposed to help you if you don't cooperate, hm?” Miguel snarls, nipping at your earlobe. 
You try to respond, trying to apologize, but all that comes out is a drawn out whine. Miguel simply chuckles, mumbling ‘stupid slut’ as his hand slides down to your face to your neck. Your moan is more audible this time, and Miguel hisses as you clench around his fingers the same time he applies the tiniest bit of pressure to your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pumps his fingers faster, pressing right below the perfect spot. It’s enough to do you in, hips jerking up as clear liquid gushes out of you. 
Miguel completely ignores it, pretending he doesn’t feel the wetness of his button-up sleeve or the splattering on his slacks. His fingers still work you through your orgasm, your protests falling onto deaf ears. “Go on, read the paragraph. What does it say, chica?”
You can’t even attempt to read it, the words an unfocused mess as your mind tries to come down from your orgasm. All you can do is whine, trying to squirm away from his hold and mumbling out ‘don’t know’ repeatedly. You barely register Miguel’s tsk of disappointment before his fingers disappear from inside you. His hand creeps into your hair, and a pleased sigh escapes you as your body gets the chance to relax. His hand is gentle, massaging your scalp until his hold suddenly tightens.
 “Maybe you need a closer look then, yeah?”
A yelp leaves you as he sharply tugs at your hair, forcing the side of your face to press into the papers and workbooks on his desk. Some of the pages crinkle as he forces you to balance on your legs. You faintly hear the rolling of his chair as it hits the wall, Miguel standing behind you and working at his belt. A shiver runs down your body when you feel his head slide against your folds, hands bracing on the edge of the desk to stop yourself from falling to the floor. 
“How about now? Can you read it?”
You don’t get the time to respond, a loud moan parting from your lips as he pushes into you. It burns slightly from his size, even with all the time he spent loosening your cunt. Your eyes and hands squeeze shut, trying to work through the intrusion. You can feel every inch he slides in, swearing you can feel the throb of a thick vein against your walls. Miguel hisses at your tightness, his hand wrapping around to play with your clit in an effort to relax you. It takes a moment, but your walls give away the slightest bit. It’s just enough for him to bottom out, both of your groaning as his head rubs against that spongy spot inside you. He slowly slides out before snapping his hips forward again, shifting you higher up onto the desk. 
More whines and whimpers leave you as you try to push back into him. But after a few more thrusts, he pulls out so his tip is the only thing in you. His grip on your hips is tight, preventing you from moving. A frustrated noise leaves you, but it's quieted by the slap he lands onto your ass. He massages the red spot, humming to himself. “Let’s make a deal, yeah? If you can answer this last question correctly, I’ll reward you.”
Your eyes sluggishly follow his finger as it comes into view. He grabs one of the worksheets, repositioning you on the desk so you rest on your elbows. He slides the paper in front of you, tapping at the number in front of the problem he wants you to answer. You want to cry, seeing the length of the worded problem. You can barely make out the numbers written down, your luck of even remembering the equation you need to solve it is a big fat zero. But, you really, really want to cum. So, you hesitantly nod in response. 
“Good girl.” Miguel praises, slowly pushing back into you again and continuing his thrusts.
You try to take deep breaths, trying to calm down your mind as you reach for the discarded pencil on his desk. You have to blink a few times, finding it difficult to get the words in focus between your distracted mind and the jolting of your body with each of Miguel’s thrust. Your hand tightens on the pencil so much you think you might break it. Your eyes scan the first few sentences three times, trying to comprehend what it's saying as you read on. Your handwriting is shaky as you try to solve the problem, the pencil sharply jerking upwards with some thrusts. When you try to steady yourself, the tip of the pencil breaks and you cry out. 
Your head falls to the desk, body trembling with your upcoming orgasm, “I-I can’t. Mr. O’Hara I can’t.” 
Your whines are absolutely pathetic, even to your own ears. Miguel leans over your shoulder, observing your shaky work before cooing in your ear. “Yes you can. You’re so close, just focus a bit harder, baby.”
You let a frustrated whine before picking your head up again. You look over your work again, trying to remember where you left off. With a few more stuttery strokes, you draw a wonky circle around your answer before letting the pencil roll away from you. You slide the paper to the slide so Miguel can check your answer, collapsing in the spot it used to be. Your head is turned to the side again, watching Miguel's finger trace over the work. A triumphed whimper leaves you when he hums in satisfaction. 
“There you go, that’s my smart girl. Knew you could do it.” 
A happy sigh leaves you at his praise, burying your head into your arms to hide the dorky smile that overcomes your face. The smile doesn’t last long when Miguel speeds up his thrusts, going harder and faster than he did before. Your head snaps up, moan after moan leaving you as your body begins to shake. When his finger flicks at your clit, your body falls lax as you finish. Miguel isn’t far behind, emptying himself into you. Both of you take a minute to calm down before he slides out with a hiss. 
You take another minute to yourself before slowly standing up. Your legs are still wobbly, but they regain balance after a few minutes. You startle slightly when Miguel’s hand comes into your peripheral, your panties dangling from his fingers. You blush, letting out a quiet thank you before you slide them back on. You help Miguel clean off his desk quietly, glancing at his figure from time to time. When you’re done, you clear your throat to say the last of your thanks before leaving. Before you can go, Miguel calls out to you. 
You turn hesitantly, watching as he slides one of his coats from the coat rack and motioning you forward. You walk hesitantly towards him, letting him move your limbs as he slides the coat over your small form.  “Keep this on until you get back to your dorm. Don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”
He doesn’t look at you as he says it, keeping his eyes focused on buttoning up the coat. A roaring blush spreads across your face and you nod, whispering a small agreement as you let the warmth of it snuggle against your skin. When his eyes meet yours, they’re soft and warm. His hand grabs a hold of your cheeks again, puckering them up perfectly for the kiss he lays on them. When he pulls away, your mind is still buzzing with delight as he looks at the clock over the door. 
“Office hours are over. Get home safe, yeah? Don’t be late to class tomorrow.” 
He ushers you out of his office shortly after, another fleeting kiss on your lips as the door shuts behind you. You stand there in a daze before a wide smile spreads on your face. You tug Miguel’s coat tighter around you and make your way back to your dorm. 
Hopefully, your grade in performance was an A+.
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THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I SCREAMED WRITING THIS!!
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 11 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—
"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 
"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 
Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 
The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 
"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 
Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 
"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"
"You could–" 
"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 
"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 
You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 
Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."
Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 
Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 
Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 
"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 
"That's never good." 
"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 
"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 
You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 
Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 
"You won't die." 
"How do you know?" you ask. 
"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 
"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 
"You brought it on yourself." 
You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 
"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 
"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 
"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 
He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 
"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 
He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.
"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 
"And do what?" 
You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 
Why there? 
Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 
Forget I asked. 
He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 
"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 
"I could help with the task force." 
"That's what you want to do?" 
You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 
"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 
"I could help you?" you offer. 
Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 
"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 
You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 
His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.
You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 
Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 
"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 
"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 
"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.
You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.
He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
4K notes · View notes
punkshort · 1 month
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i know who you are | 4. the others
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Winter begins to wrap its arms around Jackson, filling the town with snow and a nasty flu. Joel takes you to meet Ben and Lisa, and you finally discover more about your past.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, amnesia, sad!joel, pining, sexual tension, slow burn, jealousy
WC: 9K
Series Masterlist
You looked happy.
Ever since you began working at the infirmary, you seemed happier. Like you were grateful to have a purpose. A way to contribute. To give back to the community that supported you.
You smiled more and you didn't shy away from him as much as you used to and it gave Joel hope. Every time you saw him and greeted him with a smile or said goodbye with a squeeze of his shoulder, it made his heart flutter. It's been weeks. Months, technically. But he was making some progress.
It was the first snowfall of the season and it put you in an even better mood than usual. Your face was pressed up against the window as he tended to the fire behind you, and you watched as the big, fluffy flakes of snow fell from the sky, coating Jackson in a perfect blanket of pure white.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from," you told him over your shoulder. He knew that already, but he humored you.
"That so?"
"Mhmm. When I was a kid, though, we got hit with this freak storm. No one knew what to do. No one owned shovels or snow blowers or any of that, so we were all stuck inside our houses until the storm ended and everything melted," you said, turning away from the window so you could curl up on the couch, then pausing for a moment before tilting your head to the side. "Did I tell you this already?"
Yes, he thought, but he shook his head, eager for you to continue. He just loved hearing you talk, no matter what you said. Besides, if you were expected to rebuild your relationship, sharing your past would naturally be part of that, so he encouraged you to tell stories, even if he's heard them before.
"So, what happened?" he asked, putting the poker back in the stand and getting up with a groan, his knees cracking a bit before he settled in on the other end of the couch.
"Well, the power went out," you said, and he could hear the excitement in your voice, delighted to be telling him something you thought he didn't already know, and it made his heart swell. "So we didn't have any heat or any way to cook our food. We set up camping tents in the middle of our living room and slept in there with, like, five blankets each. And we lived off pop-tarts and granola bars and peanut butter sandwiches for two days til the power came back on."
"Two days?" Joel repeated, and you nodded.
"Yeah, but it was fun. As a kid, you know? I'm sure my parents were freaking out but me and Matty were excited. We played board games and ate by candlelight and told ghost stories," you said wistfully, your eyes looking miles away. "We talked about that for years," you finished softly, and Joel smiled.
"I didn't get much snow where I'm from, either," he told you, and your eyes met his again.
"Texas, right?" and he nodded. "Did you live there your whole life?"
Something deep inside him sparked with a mix of nerves and excitement. It felt like you were meeting all over again, and while it was under less than ideal circumstances, he couldn't help but feel those butterflies you feel when you first meet someone new.
"Yep, my whole life. Tommy, too, except for when he was in the army."
"Were you in the army?" you asked, but he quickly shook his head.
"Nah. Wasn't my scene. Besides, I had Sarah."
"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for asking. You dropped your attention to your hands, which were twisted in your lap, as you thought about your next question.
"How old was she?" you asked quietly, still looking down and avoiding his gaze, but you heard him take a deep breath.
"She was twelve when she died," he told you, his words hanging heavy in the air and he could see the conflict in your face as you tried to figure out a way to learn more about him without reopening old wounds. "It's okay, I don't mind talkin' 'bout her."
"Did we used to talk about her?" you asked him curiously, finally looking up to meet his gaze.
He shrugged. "Sometimes. But not at first. Still hurt too much back then, y'know?"
"Yeah," you breathed, your mind now drifting to thoughts of your own family. Were you together when they died? Did you see it? If so, was it some sort of sick twist of luck that you now couldn't remember?
"What was your favorite thing to do together?" you asked, watching as his eyes found a fixed point on the wall while he considered your question.
"My favorite thing was hiking. Hers was goin' to the movies or the mall, most likely," he said with a soft chuckle. "I didn't mind, though. I was just happy she still wanted to be seen with her old man at that age. Makes me wonder if she felt bad for me or somethin'."
You furrowed your brow, confused. "Why would she feel bad for you?"
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't date much. Had a few poker buddies but I mostly spent my time with Tommy. Just worked so hard back then that I was too tired to do much else."
"And you were a contractor?" you asked, trying to remember the small pieces of information you picked up over the last two months. He nodded.
"Yeah, me and Tommy had our own business. That was a lifetime ago. Can't imagine doin' that kind of work now, not with my back," he said with a smile.
Joel's eyes flicked to the window over your shoulder, watching as the snow continued to come down, the window panes growing foggy in the corners. "Looks like we ain't goin' anywhere for a while," he said, changing the subject. You followed his gaze and nodded.
"What about Ellie? Is she okay back there?"
"Yeah, she'll be alright. She could make it up to the house if she got too cold," he assured you.
So, you were essentially snowed in. All alone.
You could feel his eyes on you as you watched the fire and you wondered if he was thinking about an alternate reality. One where you didn't have an accident. Where you remembered everything. One where you loved him the way he so obviously loved you, and what you might be doing differently in that very moment. You had a feeling your hunch was correct because he stretched his arm across the back of the couch and subtly inched a little closer towards you, the worn cushions dipping from his weight and causing your leg to bob.
Your body stiffened and your heart suddenly felt like it was being crushed in your throat. He was so patient, you had to give him credit. It couldn't be easy for him, and although you could finally admit to yourself that you found him attractive, you still didn't think you trusted him enough to take things any further. Not yet. Not when you still had so many questions. Your eyes drifted up to meet his and as you expected, he was watching you closely. Carefully. Trying to read you the same way you were trying to read him. The problem was, every time he looked at you that way, with his eyes all soft and filled with adoration, you could only think about what he was hiding. What did he lie about? And why was he so hesitant for you to meet Ben and Lisa?
Joel leaned in a fraction and his fingers tightened their hold on the back of the couch. He wanted to kiss you. He's wanted to kiss you ever since that day in the field right before that clicker ruined the moment. And with the soft glow from the fire and the snow falling silently outside, it felt like the perfect moment. He was terrified of making things worse after he finally felt like he made some progress, but it was killing him. He missed having you so fucking much, sometimes it felt like it actually caused him physical pain. Like his chest would explode one day.
He swallowed nervously and inched a little closer and you panicked. Just as he was about to say something, you cut him off.
"Do you wanna play a board game?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you gave him a nervous smile.
"Sure," he replied, watching as you jumped off the couch to look through the games stacked on the bookcase. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his chin when you bent over and he had to force himself to look away before his body reacted, praying you didn't pick Twister.
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It took two days but the snow finally stopped. Ellie did eventually make her way to the house by the second day, simply because she was bored, so you helped Joel make a vegetable soup while Ellie set up the Monopoly board in the living room. You didn't have all the pieces, but you had enough, and what you didn't have you supplemented with buttons.
You didn't realize it; too caught up in cooking and the joy it used to bring you, but you and Joel worked together seamlessly in the kitchen. He chopped up zucchini while you diced onion and watched the pot on the stove that was cooking up noodles, slipping past each other to get to the sink and the cupboards and it all just felt so fucking normal that it made his chest ache. He wanted to draw your attention to it. He wanted to take you by the shoulders and say See? See how good we are together? But he didn't. He bit his tongue and bided his time until you came to that conclusion on your own, just like the first time.
But the first time was different. At least back then, you showed him affection. You kissed him and held him and shared your body with him and although you didn't want much more, not at first, eventually you did. And those moments in his bed were enough to hold him over until you opened your eyes and saw what was right in front of you.
He was selfish. He knew it was wrong to want you like that right now, but he wanted all of you, not just physically. He yearned to know what was going on behind your eyes, what you were thinking and feeling. What you thought of him. But if you would maybe just let yourself fall asleep in his arms on the couch while you read in front of the fire, or let him kiss you, just once, then maybe you would see it again. Feel it again.
"What the hell does a purple button mean?" you asked with a giggle, holding up the smooth, round plastic between your fingers.
"It's a hotel, duh!" Ellie said, grinning and rolling her eyes.
"Wait, why am I goin' to jail?"
"You rolled doubles three times in a row!" you told him, and you and Ellie bent over laughing at the confused expression on his face.
He made a disgruntled noise and moved his token to the corner of the board as he watched you and Ellie giggling and wiping tears from your eyes and fuck, it was nice. In another world, he would have made some joke about you being the one in handcuffs and maybe later he would have followed through with it and tied your wrists to the headboard, burying his face between your thighs until you couldn't take it anymore.
But instead, he just watched two of the people he loved most in the world have fun, the orange glow from the fire flickering over your smiling faces while the snow finally came to a stop outside.
Ellie had trekked back to the garage once the game was over. It was late, you looked tired, but he still suggested putting a movie on. He wasn't ready to let you go. He hated going to bed all alone. You seemed to consider his offer for a moment before you shook your head and yawned, and although he knew that would likely be your answer, he still felt his heart sink.
He walked you to your bedroom and as he was about to say goodnight, hoping to minimize the hurt by making it quick, you did something that surprised him. You pulled him into a hug, standing on your tiptoes, your chin resting on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck, body pressed firmly against his and just as quickly as it happened, you pulled away. Joel was so stunned he wasn't sure he hugged you back, even though he stood cemented to the floor well after you went to bed, replaying the hug over and over, all he could remember was how he felt. And he went to bed that night with renewed hope blooming in his chest. Maybe you were finally coming around.
So the next morning when you asked him out of the blue if you could visit Ben and Lisa once the streets cleared of snow, he had a hard time finding a reason to say no. He should have known you wouldn't let it go, but he did hold out hope that maybe you moved on from the idea since it had been a few weeks when you last mentioned them.
He agreed, of course, not wanting to ruin the delicate foundation of your relationship. Besides, he already decided he would go with you and make sure they didn't tell you anything you weren't ready to hear.
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The snow had melted enough where the road was visible again, but the snowbanks still piled high around the buildings and houses and you felt strangely nervous as you followed Joel down the street. He had finally agreed to take you to meet Ben and Lisa, and while you were grateful he didn't have the reaction he had the first time you mentioned them, you still wondered what caused that outburst.
You tried to convince yourself that maybe he was just tired and cranky that day, having just gotten back from patrol for the fourth day in a row. But something still felt... off.
"Wow, when Ellie said they lived on the outskirts, she wasn't kidding," you said, realizing you were reaching an edge of Jackson you had yet to explore.
"Yeah, they tend to keep to themselves," he replied without further explanation. He didn't seem agitated, but he definitely wasn't happy about going to see them. He seemed more quiet and subdued than usual.
Finally, you arrived at a quaint looking cottage tucked back from the road a ways. Like Ellie had said, it was small, but it looked cozy. You could see the smoke pluming from the chimney and you couldn't wait to warm up again.
There was no porch. Just a small roof over the front door and a folding chair that looked like it had seen better days. He knocked firmly on the door and after a moment, you heard light shuffling on the other side.
The door cracked open and you were greeted by a short woman around your age with dull, brown hair and bright green eyes. She saw Joel first and, like most people in town, she hesitated. But then she noticed you next to him and her expression changed. A wide smile stretched across her face and she said your name softly, then held her arms out for a hug.
"It's so good to see you," she said in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze before turning around and ushering you both inside. "Come in, come in, it's freezing out there. Ben! You'll never guess who's here!"
You both stepped inside and as you were slipping off your outerwear, you glanced around the small space. It was tight, but it was filled with warmth. The living room had two small, mismatched loveseats on either side of the stone fireplace. Two large bookshelves that were filled with so many books that the shelves were sagging stood on either side of the fire, and curiously you didn't notice a television anywhere in the room.
You heard a man's deep voice behind you say your name and you jumped in surprise. Turning around, you were pulled into another hug by who you could only assume was Ben. He was tall - taller than Joel - and you wondered how on earth such a small house could fit such a large man. He stepped away, his dark eyes glittering with his hands still on your shoulders, taking in your appearance as if you haven't seen them in years.
Maybe you haven't.
You were so focused on absorbing every little detail about the house and its residents that you didn't notice Joel's body stiffen next to you, his eyes glued to Ben's hands. And while Lisa seemed to have the same reaction to Joel that everyone else in town did, Ben, on the other hand, did not seem phased by his presence. In fact, he appeared pleased to see him. Once he dropped his hands from your shoulders, he stretched out a lanky arm and shook Joel's hand, giving him a kind smile which Joel had a hard time returning.
"What a wonderful surprise. Come, let's sit. Do you want coffee or tea?" Ben asked, his eyes drifting between you and Joel. You both shook your heads and Ben smiled warmly at you once again. Even though the living room was just a few feet away from the front door, Ben still rested his hand on your shoulder and guided you to one of the loveseats as if you might lose your way, only dropping his hold on you when he sat down across from you on the other one.
Joel eased himself down on the couch beside you, the space so small that he had no choice but to rest his leg against yours, and Lisa went to join Ben, the crackling fire between both loveseats warming you up right away.
"We heard you had an accident. How are you feeling?" Lisa asked, her voice so small and gentle compared to Ben's booming baritone.
"Better, thanks. But it's kind of why I'm here," you said, glancing over at Joel nervously, but he was staring silently at Ben, who still seemed unaffected.
Lisa tilted her head to the side and wrapped a hand around Ben's forearm, leaning into him a bit as she got more comfortable on the couch. You noticed for the first time a basket on the floor next to her feet filled with different colored yarn and half knitted projects tucked inside. "Oh?" she asked, then it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh! Is it... is it true? Do you really have memory loss?"
When you nodded, you noticed the flicker of pity across both their faces as they exchanged a somber look.
"I can only remember my life before the outbreak. My mom, dad and brother. I don't even remember what happened or how they died or how I managed to survive," you began, feeling yourself growing a little emotional. Joel must have sensed it in your tone because he squeezed your knee reassuringly, and when you glanced over at him, he had finally torn his eyes away from Ben to look at you with concern.
"It's been hard," Joel said, finally speaking up, addressing Ben and Lisa. "Lots of confusion, lots of missin' pieces. But she kept a journal. Turns out, she wrote 'bout you two, so that's why we're here," he finished, narrowing his eyes a bit at them.
"You wrote about us? How sweet," Ben said cheerily, running a hand through his dark blonde curls.
"Yes, but-"
"It wasn't anythin' that detailed," Joel said quickly, and you frowned at him. He sat back into the sofa and glanced over at you. "Right?"
"Yeah," you said slowly, dragging your eyes away from Joel and back to your hosts. "Just that we went fishing and it felt like old times," you continued, and they both smiled at the memory. The only sound in the room was the fire next to you, the wood popping loudly under the flames as you weighed your next question. "So I was hoping you might help tell me about myself before we arrived in Jackson. Is that... okay?"
Lisa shifted in her seat, a small smile still twitching at her lips as she gazed up at Ben, waiting for him to reply. He hesitated a moment and you thought you saw his eyes flicker to Joel before responding.
"Of course," Ben said, slapping the tops of his thighs, jostling loose Lisa's grip on his arm. He quickly picked her hand back up and brought her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss, but your eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar symbol tattooed on the inside of her wrist, only made visible when Ben picked up her arm and her sleeve hung down.
"Can you tell me about when we first met?" you asked, figuring you should start at the beginning.
"Oh, what was it? Six or eight months after the outbreak, yeah?" Ben wondered aloud, looking to Lisa to confirm. She nodded and scratched her neck.
"Sounds about right."
You allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of excitement. There were two people right in front of you that could help fill in the blanks for the first five years after the outbreak, and you couldn't wait to hear more.
"We met in the Atlanta QZ," he began, but you quickly stopped him.
"QZ?"
"Quarantine Zone. All the major cities had 'em. Was meant to keep people safe from infected but the military ran most of 'em into the ground," Joel explained. "Treated people like cattle. Strict curfews. Barely enough rations to survive."
"It was awful," Lisa added solemnly.
"Was I alone?" you asked them, and Ben nodded. "Did I tell you anything about my family? How they died?"
Their eyes shifted to Joel for a moment before looking at one another.
"I thought you had said the infected got your mom on the first day. But your dad and brother..." Ben trailed off, looking down at his hands sadly. "They got caught out after curfew. It happened before we got there. They... were punished."
You frowned a little, looking to Joel to help shed some light on what Ben meant, but he was staring down at his feet.
"Punished?" you squeaked as your heart began to pound faster in your chest.
"Punishment for bein' out after curfew was death," Joel spoke up softly next to you.
You looked at all three of them, your eyes wide in disbelief. "Death? The military were killing people?"
"It was horrible. It's why we escaped," Lisa replied with tears in her eyes.
"Okay, then what?" you pressed, trying not to dwell too long on the thought of your father and brother being murdered by the very people who were supposed to protect them.
"After we escaped?" Ben clarified, and you nodded. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "We survived. Did what we had to do."
There it was again. Did what we had to do. The same thing Joel said when you brought up Lisa and Ben the first time.
You waited for him to elaborate but when it became apparent Ben had finished talking, you pushed him further. "Like what? What does that mean?"
"We laid low. Found some secluded spots in the wilderness and stuck it out for as long as we could," Lisa said, her eyes casually drifting between the two men. You looked at Joel, who was holding a steady glare at Ben and Lisa, but otherwise he was perfectly silent.
"For five years we just laid low? In the woods? The three of us?" you asked, and they could tell you knew they weren't telling you the whole truth. "What aren't you telling me? Did we do something bad? Did something happen?"
Joel shifted in his seat next to you but you kept your eyes pinned on Lisa and Ben, trying to read the expressions on their faces.
Ben was the first to fold. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and gave you a half smile and shrug. "Yeah. I mean, everyone did bad things one time or another. It's impossible not to-"
"Like what?" you demanded. You could feel your anger building up now. "I'm not a child. Just tell me."
Ben sighed and looked at Joel once again, and this time you had enough.
"Why do you keep looking at him?"
Ben's eyes snapped back to you and he forced out a small chuckle, trying in vain to diffuse the tension in the room.
"You're our guests, so I'm looking at you both."
You weren't going to argue with him when it was clear he was looking at Joel for direction on what to say. It all made sense now. No wonder Joel didn't fight you on coming to visit them. He had planned all along to control the conversation and keep you in the dark and something inside you snapped.
Standing up from the couch suddenly, you looked down at Ben and Lisa, anger brimming in your eyes.
"Thanks," you spat, heading towards the front door. "Sorry to bother you both."
"It's no bother," Lisa said, her voice wavering as she followed you to the door. "Really. Stop by any time, it was nice to see you."
You scoffed and resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you shoved your boots and coat back on, doing your best to finish before Joel so you could get a head start back home.
Flinging open the door without another word, you took a deep breath and stormed down the street, the chilly winter air filling your lungs, trying to cool your anger from the inside out. But then you heard Joel's heavy footsteps crunching in the snow, hurrying to catch up to you, and your rage peaked again.
"You alright?" he asked when he found his place back by your side.
"No, I'm not alright," you seethed, staring straight ahead with your arms wrapped around your middle. "What was that back there?"
"What'dya mean?"
You skidded to a stop and glared at him, his cheeks pink from the cold and his chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual.
"You know what I mean. I'm not stupid, Joel. What don't you want me to know?"
He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out how to respond.
"I'm not-"
"Don't bullshit me!" you yelled, and when you remembered you were in the middle of the street, you lowered your voice. "They were clearly scared of you. You didn't want them to tell me something. It was so obvious, Joel! I hit my head but I'm not fucking blind."
"I didn't ask them to say or not say anythin'," he said truthfully.
You stared at one another, both watching as your exhale mixed together, little clouds swirling in between you before rising above your heads and disappearing, each waiting for the other to break first.
"Maybe I should move out," you finally said, voice filled with sadness. His face fell instantly.
"Why?"
"You know why. I don't think I can trust you. How can I, when I can't even get a simple answer out of you?" What did he lie about?
If you had stabbed him in the chest, it would have hurt less. His gaze fell to the ground and he felt his throat begin to constrict. He had to do something. He couldn't lose you. So he told you a half truth.
"You and Ben used to be a thing," he said, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"What?"
He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. "Before you came to Jackson. You and him were a couple."
You looked away from him, taking a minute to wrap your mind around what he just told you. You supposed it would make sense. It would explain why Joel was so weird about bringing you to see them. Maybe you misread the tension in the room. Maybe the tension was about something else entirely.
"That's why you were acting so strange? That's why you were staring him down?" you asked. His answer was still difficult to believe. It explained Joel's behavior, but it didn't explain what bad things you had done and why nobody seemed willing to tell you what they were.
He shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "Can we talk about this at home? I'm freezin'," he said.
The walk afforded you more time to think now that you had this new piece of the puzzle. Ben did seem like your type: he was handsome and kind, but if you and Ben were together in the past, where did that leave Lisa? They were clearly an item now. Wouldn't that have made for a strange relationship between the three of you? Perhaps that's why you didn't see them often.
Joel let you stew in silence for the walk home, fucking praying what he told you would be enough to keep you from following through with your threat. Why did it feel like every time he made some progress with you, something happened that fucked everything up?
Maybe he should have just let them tell you the whole truth.
No, that would have been bad. You didn't trust him enough yet. You said it yourself. And if you were willing to move out over something like this, you certainly would never speak to him again if you knew the whole story.
He needed to earn your trust first but it was so fucking hard when you wouldn't let him in. When you found out the truth the first time, you were already months into a relationship with him. You were already sleeping together, and while it didn't evolve into anything more until later, it still helped build your trust in him when he finally told you the truth.
He didn't have that with you now, and for the first time he began to doubt his ability to make you fall in love with him again.
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You huddled in front of the fire after the long walk home, the two of you remaining silent the entire way. Joel was in the kitchen, most likely avoiding you and your questions while you warmed up. You weren't even going to bother bringing up the topic again, but Joel surprised you by doing it himself.
"I'm sorry. 'Bout earlier," he said from the entryway. You turned from the fire to look at him. He looked worried. His eyes were wide and his brow was knit while his hands fidgeted at his sides.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, and he sighed.
"Dunno. Guess I was hopin' you'd let it go or change your mind," he said, ticking his jaw to the side.
"What would it have even mattered? I don't remember him, I don't remember what we had together. I certainly don't have feelings for him," you told him, sitting down on the couch and tucking your legs underneath you.
He looked around the room nervously as you waited for an answer that wasn't coming.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "If this is going to work, you need to be honest with me-"
"I was scared, alright?" he said abruptly. You watched him hang his head between his shoulders and take a deep breath before collapsing into the arm chair next to the couch. "I was scared you'd maybe remember him or..." he trailed off, finding it difficult to put into words what he was thinking. And although it wasn't the whole truth, it still was the truth. He was afraid this version of you would want someone like Ben and not like him.
He was afraid of losing you.
You seemed to understand because you didn't ask him to finish his thought. Instead, since he was opening up, you asked him something else that was bothering you.
"What did I do?"
He looked at you curiously, not following at first until you continued.
"Ben said I did bad things. We all did bad things to survive. What did he mean?"
Joel swallowed and thought about his answer for a moment. You sighed, growing impatient.
"You can't keep the truth from me forever. I'll find out one day, just tell -"
"You killed people," he told you, and you completely lost your train of thought. You searched his face as all of the air rushed out of your lungs, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"I killed people?" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, and he nodded slowly. You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes but you blinked them away. What kind of monster did you become?
"Innocent people?"
"Depends on who you ask," he said right away, almost as if he expected that question.
"What does that mean?"
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "I told you. Everyone did what they had to do in order to survive. I know it's hard for you to understand what it was like, but there were a lot of bad people out there. A lot of bad fuckin' people. The military was outta control. There were revolutions and raiders and slavers." He paused and sniffed a bit, continuing to stare into the flames while you hung on his every word. "When I say you killed people... it ain't black and white. I killed people, too. Alotta people. When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em. D'you understand?" he asked, finally dragging his eyes up to look at you.
You blinked, thinking about what he said, his words rolling around your head like pinballs.
"I think so," you said quietly.
He nodded, still pinning you with his stare. "We all made decisions. We made choices based on what we knew at the time and we did our best."
You nodded, your voice wavering a bit when you asked "Am I a bad person, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together and he leaned forward in his chair, wanting to reach out to you, comfort you and pull you into his arms, but he refrained. "No, baby. You ain't a bad person," he told you softly.
And you weren't sure why, but you believed him.
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The streets were quiet as you slowly made your way to the infirmary. You didn't start your shift until late in the morning and you didn't feel like joining Ellie at the dining hall for breakfast, so you stayed home, only getting out of bed when you heard Joel leave for patrol. He had already warned you the night before that he would be back later than usual due to the storm. Trails would likely be difficult to pass and nobody could predict if there would be damage at any of the outposts, but it was highly likely.
You didn't move out like you had threatened to. You didn't even know what you were thinking when you said that. Where would you have gone? The garage with Ellie? You didn't know anybody else. Not really. But even if you had, you saw the look in Joel's face when you said those words and even though you were so fucking angry with him, you still felt terrible for causing him pain.
On one hand, it seemed like he was just looking out for you, but on the other, his actions often came off as selfish. You had every right to know your past and what you did, and you were growing sick of Joel treating you like a child. Like you were too fragile to understand.
But at least you got it out of him. Even though you had to take extreme measures, you finally got him to tell you something truthful, and that was a positive step forward.
Lost in your thoughts, you weren't even paying attention when a man's voice called your name from across the street. You looked up after the third try and were surprised to find Ben waving to you from the tailor. You raised your hand in greeting and made your way over to the building.
"Hey," you said a little sheepishly, "about the other day, I'm sorry for how I acted-"
He shook his head and gave you a reassuring smile. "No need to apologize. All of this has to be so confusing for you. We understand."
You dropped your gaze to the frozen ground and dug your boot into the snow. "Thank you, I appreciate that. It's very frustrating, actually. I'm just trying to learn about myself and what's happened in the past ten years and I guess I took out my anger on you guys."
He waved you off and leaned against the doorframe of the tailor. "Don't worry about it. We were just happy to see you again."
And even though Ben was absolving you of your guilt, you somehow felt even worse. He was being so nice and you hardly felt like you deserved it. "Joel explained it to me, by the way. After we left your house he told me about us," you said, waving your finger back and forth between you.
"Ah," Ben said with a knowing smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I wondered as much. It was a very long time ago but Joel can be..." Ben trailed off and scratched his chin, "he can be a little protective, I suppose. He never really understood the nature our relationship."
You tilted your head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"It was just casual. He always thought there was something more," Ben said, meeting your eye. "But I promise you, there wasn't. At the time, we were just lonely and scared and looking for comfort. Neither of us was looking for anything more than that."
You nodded thoughtfully. "He did say we were a couple," you said, and Ben chuckled softly.
"I wouldn't even call it that. Truly. There were no hurt feelings. We just never had a connection past... y'know," he said with a shrug. You felt yourself flush a bit at the words he left unspoken and looked away. "But I'm glad he told you."
"Yeah, me too. I know his heart is in the right place, I just wish he would have told me about us and all the shit we did before I came to see you. Probably would have made the visit a little more pleasant," you said with a laugh, but Ben's face fell.
"He told you about what we did?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious. You sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, he told me I've killed people. It's been really hard to wrap my head around, but I'm trying to come to terms with it. He explained the world we live in now is not like the one I remember."
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and unfolded his arms. "Wow. I'm kind of shocked he told you about us and the Fireflies. That must have been really hard for you both."
You frowned and searched his face. "Fireflies?"
His body stiffened and his face paled when he realized his mistake. "Yeah. He told you about the Fireflies, right?"
You shook your head. "What are the Fireflies?"
"Shit," he muttered, pushing himself off the wall abruptly and clearing his throat. "I should get back to work. Just please forget I said anything, okay?"
"Ben, wait," you tried, but he disappeared back inside the tailor, leaving you standing in front of the door while more questions piled up.
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There seemed to be a bad flu being spread around town because the infirmary was busier than usual. You were grateful for the distraction, especially after your conversation with Ben. You had spent the better part of the afternoon rushing from exam room to exam room, cleaning up after each patient as quickly as you could so Nick could continue treating the revolving door of people coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. Nick had recommended you wear a bandana around your mouth and nose to hopefully keep you healthy, but you had a feeling it would just be a matter of time before you caught the same bug as everyone else. Still, you kept the bandana tied around your neck as you worked diligently. What you didn't expect, however, was the bit of anonymity the mask afforded you.
You were cleaning up exam room six when you heard a woman's familiar voice in the room across the hall. Nick had left the door cracked open after he ushered her inside, and she apparently had another woman in there waiting with her as you started to pick up on hushed pieces of their conversation.
You didn't intend to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of you when you tried to place her voice, and when you realized it was Angie, your hands froze and your body stilled, doing your best to not make any noise so you could listen.
"... going down there almost every night... matter of time... him."
"But what about... freak out."
You frowned, inching closer to the door as you tried to fill in the gaps in their conversation.
Then you heard Angie say your name clear as day and your eyebrows shot up. You pressed your back against the wall and held your breath.
"She doesn't even like him. That relationship is a ticking time bomb."
You silently gasped when you realized they were most certainly talking about you and Joel.
It wasn't even true. You liked Joel. You were attracted to Joel. You were even starting to trust Joel a little more, although you definitely had plans to ask him about the Fireflies. But you were still getting to know him and it was taking time. Was this girl talking about trying to steal Joel away from you? The idea made your stomach turn and anger flare deep in your chest.
You shocked yourself with your reaction. Steal Joel away? Since when did you begin to feel some sense of ownership over him? Were you jealous?
You heard Nick's voice leaving an exam room a few doors down and you quickly made yourself look busy. He sighed tiredly in the hallway as he flipped through some papers before pushing open the door to Angie's room. You were changing the bedding on the mattress when you heard Nick call your name and you quickly dropped the sheets to cross the hall.
When your eyes locked with Angie's, giving her a hardened stare, you swore you saw a flicker of fear before she forced a fake smile and coughed into her fist while her friend, one you recognized from the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison, nervously shifted her weight and looked away. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when it became clear to the two girls that you had heard everything they said, and you were grateful you had your mask on so they couldn't see the corners of your mouth twitch.
"Would you mind grabbing a bag of cough drops and a jar of menthol from the supply cabinet?" Nick asked, completely oblivious to the shift in the air.
"Sure thing," you told him, turning on your heel to leave and allowing yourself to finally smile.
Joel might scare the rest of the town, but you sure as hell scared the shit out of Angie.
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Your shift at the infirmary went longer than expected. By the time you arrived home, you were exhausted and the sun was almost setting. So far you weren't feeling sick, but from what you had overheard all day, the symptoms came on quick, so you had already decided to call it an early night and get some rest. When you swung open the front door and found Joel hunched over the kitchen table, your plans went flying out the window.
He looked like he was on death's door. You had never seen him look so run down and pale. He didn't even open his eyes to look at you, he just kept them shut while he rubbed his temples and tried to stifle a cough, his backpack abandoned at his feet.
"Joel?" you called, toeing off your boots and hurrying over to him. You crouched down on the floor and pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're burning up."
He groaned and cracked open one eye. "Feel like shit. Dunno what happened."
"There's a bad virus spreading around, the infirmary was slammed today," you said, pushing yourself up onto your aching feet to get him a glass of water. "Drink this and I'll heat you up some soup," you told him before heading towards the stove.
"You don't gotta-"
"Drink," you said firmly, cutting him off. He winced before picking up the glass and forcing down the cool liquid. Once you got the gas going on the stove, you grabbed an empty bowl and shoved your boots back on. "I'll be right back," you told him. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, about to ask where you were going but you already disappeared through the front door, returning seconds later with the bowl filled with snow.
"Lean back," you instructed, placing the bowl on the table. He did as he was told and closed his eyes, the lights from the kitchen ceiling making his head ache but when you pressed a handful of packed snow against his forehead, he groaned with relief.
"Oh shit, that feels good," he whispered as you tried to ignore the twinge between your legs at his low tone. He released a shaky breath and you watched as the snow began to melt, little trails of water dripping from his hair and down his scruffy cheeks. When it was nearly melted, you took your hand away and dumped the remnants in the sink, grabbing a towel and drying your hands on the way back. You pinched his stubbly chin delicately in your fingers and tipped his head towards you while slowly and gently wiping away the water from his face. When you finished, your eyes found his already boring into you and you felt a tingle shoot down your spine.
"Better?"
His gaze softened as he continued to stare up at you, searching your face quietly, making your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. You swallowed nervously and forced yourself to look away, and it was then he finally realized you had asked him a question.
"Yes," he murmured, "thank you."
You dragged your eyes back to his and gave him a small smile. "More?"
He didn't trust himself to speak. He just slowly nodded and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you scooped up another handful of snow. With your free hand, you slid your fingers behind his neck and through his hair, cupping the back of his head in your small hand before pressing the snow gently against his forehead once again. And even though he wanted to keep looking at you, he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering shut at the cooling sensation, earning you another deep groan from his throat and causing your breath to stutter.
He heard it and opened his eyes.
You stared at each other, lips parted as the air began to thicken with tension. His eyes flickered over your face, noticing the way your pupils appeared bigger as you gazed down at him. He took a risk and slowly brought his hand up to rest on your side, watching you carefully for any sign that he should stop. He pressed his fingertips lightly into your hip, the fabric of your shirt bunching up slightly from the pressure.
You dropped your eyes to his hand and blinked rapidly, then opened your mouth to speak when you heard sizzling at the stove. You whipped your head around just as his soup began to boil over the pot.
"Shit!" you yelped, dropping the half melted snow onto the towel and racing over to the range. You twisted the knob off and put the pot on one of the unused burners and the liquid immediately simmered back down. "Sorry," you said, refusing to look at him as you started to gather a bowl and spoon, embarrassment burning your cheeks.
"Don't be," he replied, still leaning back in his chair in the same position you left him. He watched you fumble nervously in the kitchen and he had to suppress a smile.
Maybe he still had a chance, after all.
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Joel's temperature was a little high but nothing too concerning, so you pushed the fluids and he ate all of his soup and it helped put your mind at ease. You really didn't want to have to ask for ibuprofen unless it was absolutely necessary, especially considering how the same virus was hitting almost every house at the same time. You made sure to check on Ellie from her doorway, not wanting to risk her catching anything since she appeared to be fine, before helping Joel up to bed.
Once you followed him into the room and he turned on the light next to his bed, you realized you hadn't actually ever entered his bedroom before. Sure, you've walked past it when the door was open and glanced inside, but you never really looked. As he gathered some fresh pajamas and began to unbutton his flannel, you turned your back to him to give him some privacy and examined his bookshelf. Your eyes drifted over the titles on the spines of a handful of books, most of which you hadn't heard of before noticing a framed photograph sharing a shelf with his books. It was faded and a little torn, but you could still make out their faces. It was Joel - a far younger version of Joel - with his arm around a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes and a stunning smile. You felt your throat tighten when you realized who it was, and if you had any doubt, Joel's voice piped up behind you.
"That's Sarah."
You heard him shuffling his bedding around so you figured he was dressed.
"She's beautiful, Joel," you said, walking over to his side of the bed and popping the thermometer under his tongue one more time. "It's wonderful that you were able to find a picture of her. I wish I had some pictures of my family," you said sadly, watching the hands of the clock on top of his bookshelf tick, counting down the seconds until you could check the thermometer. "I would have loved for you to at least see them. I think you would have gotten along with my brother really well. Maybe too well," you added with a soft laugh, not realizing he was silently hanging on your every word as you continued to stare at the clock. "He was always looking out for me. Always protecting me, trying to shield me and it drove me nuts when I was younger, but as time went on, I understood it a bit more."
You pulled the thermometer out and checked the number. "Still the same," you told him, resting it on his nightstand.
"How much time?" he asked, and you gave him a confused look. "How much time did it take 'til you started to understand?" he clarified, and you realized what he was really asking.
"I don't know," you replied honestly, sitting on the edge of his bed with a sigh. "But I'm starting to... understand," you said, giving him a sideways glance. You really wanted to ask him about the Fireflies but seeing how sick he was, you decided to bring it up another time. His hand slipped out from underneath the covers and gently squeezed your knee.
"That's good," he said softly before furrowing his brow and turning his head to cough loudly into his pillow. You winced at how bad it sounded and rubbed his upper back. When the coughing fit passed, you handed him his water and he took a grateful sip.
"Do you need anything else before I go to bed?"
"Could you stay here?" he found himself asking before he could even think. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you struggled to answer. "Just 'til I fall asleep?"
"Oh," you replied, looking awkwardly around his rather sparse room. "Sure, let me just go wash up," you said, standing up from his bed. You were dead on your feet from your shift at work and you knew the next day wouldn't be any better, but you felt bad saying no, so you changed your clothes and grabbed one of the books Joel had found for you before dragging the chair from the corner of his room to the side of his bed.
"You can stretch out over there," he told you, pointing weakly to the other side of the bed before coughing into his closed fist. "I won't bite."
You smiled as you settled into the chair. "I'm alright, thanks," you said, opening your book and leaning back, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of reading, you looked up just to find him still watching you. You laughed and said "you need to get some rest if you want to kick this thing," then he grinned and finally closed his eyes.
You may not have been in bed with him, but you were close enough to help him relax and for the first time in months, he fell fast asleep within minutes.
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falling-endlessly · 2 months
Text
Boomerang (part 4)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.
Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)
<— Part 3 Chapter Index
Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."
He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.
A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."
His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.
This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.
He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"
But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.
He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.
Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."
What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.
A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.
With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.
When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.
"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.
There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.
Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.
And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.
Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.
Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.
"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.
Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?
Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.
"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."
"But—"
"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.
"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.
On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.
"Oh, come on."
****
The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.
He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.
Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?
"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"
Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"
Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.
"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.
Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."
"I'm not—"
"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.
Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.
He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.
The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.
He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.
A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.
Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"
The line went dark, cutting off the call.
Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.
Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.
****
After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.
He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.
Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.
You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.
That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.
For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—
"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.
"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"
"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.
"I—What?" His grin twitched.
"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.
Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.
"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."
You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."
"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."
"But?" You said quietly.
"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.
He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.
"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."
He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.
You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!
He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."
He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.
"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"
“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”
“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.
A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.
Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.
Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.
“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.
“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”
Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.
For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.
But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.
Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."
"Really?" You said incredulously.
"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"
****
<— Part 3 Chapter Index
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