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dawneternal · 2 days

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The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Two

☁︎ notes: so much tea drinking in this chapter?? my bad

☁︎ warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood, talk of physical abuse, implied domestic violence

☁︎ word count: 1.9k

☁︎ AO3 Link // Masterlist

☁︎ tags: @mybestfriendmademe @teddyhoneybear @cauldronblssd @imma-too-many-fandoms @tele86

Eris barely remembered the night before. He did not remember the questions his father had asked or the nonsense he’d given as answers. He knew in his gut that the truth remained tucked away and that’s all that mattered.

He did recall his mother hurrying away, though the image was blurry from the pain. He thought he remembered an angel, kneeling by his bedside and blessing him with a touch to his brow. But of course, that was delirium from the blood loss. Every snap of his father’s whip, however, echoed through his memory in a loop.

He woke once in the night, head pounding as he surveyed the room. The moonlight revealed his mother’s sleeping form on the couch by the fire. On the floor beside his bed, another figure slept curled up with a throw pillow. Maybe two figures? It was hard to tell, their outline bulky beneath the quilt. He had a vague understanding that he should be dead, or at least in a great deal of pain. But the bedding felt real enough beneath his hands, the ache in his head like an anchor.

He did not have a chance to wonder about it any further before sleep pulled him away again. He dreamt of the angel and her lovely voice, deep and smooth, easing his pain.

Worry not , she had said. So Eris slept deep and easy.

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When Eris woke he braced for the full impact of his injury to envelope him, but it never arrived. There was a dull ache throughout his body, but nothing compared to what he felt the night before. He found that he could sit up and move and even stretch with no resistance.

He flicked on the fae lights and twisted in the mirror, examining his back. There were large, pink scars still tender to the touch. And he was clean, not a hint of the ocean of blood that had threatened to swallow him in his bed.

That was how his mother found him, staring at his back with confusion and frustration written across his features. She let out a silent sigh as she set down the tea tray, preparing for his interrogation.

“Someone else was here,” He said. Or rather, demanded, eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

“Yes. The healer I hired.” She did not look at him, focused on spooning tea leaves into the sieve.

“Beron forbade it.” His tone was sharp.

“He will not know. He was called away this morning and you leave for the Spring Court this afternoon.”

Here she was, pulling strings again. He would always admire her cleverness and always dread the consequences. She was constantly doing favors just so she would be owed one in return. It was the oldest Fae trick in the book and the only way she could gain footing in this court.

Most of the court and its people would follow her over Beron in a heartbeat. But his reach was wide and his eyes all-seeing. Not to mention his punishments, always cruel and disturbingly creative. Thus, these games of bargains and favors remained. Whispered in dark halls and midnight meetings. Sometimes outside the borders of the court. So far, she had managed not to be caught. Beron underestimated her and one day it would be her salvation and the last nail in his coffin.

“You hired a secret healer?”

“And swore her to secrecy, yes,” It was an idea she’d toyed with for a while, but Eris had always asked her not to do it. It was not worth it, to risk some healer’s life on his sorry behalf.

“Did you tell her the nature of the job?”

Edana pursed her lips, quiet as she placed sugar cubes into cups. He sat down slowly, releasing a long sigh as he went.

“The risks, mother,” He said, weariness making it sound more thorny than he meant.

“Do not scold me, son,” Her tone was firm but her voice shook. She looked at him, russet eyes gleaming. “You would have died last night if she had not been there. I have said it before and I will say it as many times as it takes for this court to hear me. I will not lose another son.”

Her lips trembled as she let her body crumple into a chair. Eris stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her ruddy hair. Two sides of the same coin, they were. Too soft for Beron’s preferred shade of games, too stubborn not to play their own.

The purple smudges under her eyes were so pronounced Eris wondered if she’d slept at all. If she’d truly slept in years.

“Why now?” He asked, his voice soft. An uneasiness grew in the pit of his stomach. Edana took a moment to answer, her eyes troubled and distant as she warred with something that Eris couldn’t see.

“Things are brewing, Eris,” She said, “Not just in your father’s court, but in Prythian. I needed to ease my mind. To have one less things to worry about.”

He didn’t bother asking what she alluded to. She would have told him already if she were able to. Whether it be Beron or some other higher power, she stayed vague for a reason. It did nothing for that sense of unease.

“Thesan has requested to speak with me,” Edana sighed, sounding a little more like herself again, “I assume I will be receiving a scolding from him as well.”

“No more scolding from me,” Eris sat back down and pulled a cup of tea towards himself, “You know what you’re doing. I just don't want to see you hurt.”

She gave him a small smile and took a sip from her own cup.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with, mother. One day you will get your justice.”

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Lady Edana sat across from Thesan, tea and pastries arranged on lace runners between them. The table sat on a balcony, so similar to where she had met with Aya. Fluffy clouds floated past the stone pillars, the arches between them like picture frames housing masterful paintings.

Edana did not care for the Dawn Court. Everything here was too farefree, threatening to float away with the lightest touch. She preferred to be on solid ground, back in her own court with its scents of humus and ripe apples.

“Edana,” Thesan began. His eyes avoided hers, as if her opinion would be read clearly within the amber.

Edana said nothing, anger ebbing and flowing through her like the tide. One moment she had herself worked up, convinced that everyone around her was trying to prove that she was nothing but a fool, a paranoid little housewife. Then she would remind herself that those ideas were Beron’s creation, her anxiety his design. And she calmed, letting all of those feelings flow away until the cycle began again.

“I understand your machinations,” He said, “I know their importance, and I will contribute where I can. But you cannot draw my loved ones into this game. Especially without consulting me.”

“Loved ones?” Edana asked, meeting his gaze as she took a sip of her tea.

“Aya is my cousin, Edana,” Thesan sighed.

“Is there a reason you kept her hidden?”

“She is not hidden. The Dawn Court knows her. But she has always insisted on earning her own living. She wants her success to be her own.”

“I see,” Edana said, though her expression suggested that she did not see.

“I have a feeling that you elected to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.” He continued.

Edana tossed her head, but she did not disagree. That was exactly what she had done. Though she had to admit that the fact of Aya and Thesan being related made her decision look much bolder. She had never meant to make a statement.

“I suggest you do not make a habit of it,” Thesan’s voice rumbled through the balcony.

Some considered Thesan to be the weakest of the High Lords. Even Tarquin, young and experienced as he may be, could move oceans with his power. But to hear Thesan speak this way painted a different image. Like he possessed some hidden blade within him that was as sharp as he was gentle. Like perhaps, the other courts would be grateful that he stayed close to his palace in this sky.

Edana finally accepted that perhaps her plans had been rash. Maybe she had underestimated how easily Thesan would forgive her. The clouds floating by the balcony grew dark with the threat of a storm.

“I cannot break the bargain,” She said, eyes on the table before her. She studied the crumbs of her macaron, pastel purple and flavored with lavender.

“No,” Said Thesan, a growl full of warning, “But if you misstep, I will have Helion dismantle it.

“I did it for Eris,” Edana choked out, looking up at him. The lovely brown of his eyes was so soft compared to the command in his voice.

“Then he will help protect her. Or he will need more than one healer.”

“Beron will not touch her.”

“Do not make promises you cannot keep.”

They were quiet for a long moment. Then the clouds lightened again, all of the tension gone from the sky. Thesan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I did not call you here to scold you,” He said, and Edana thought bitterly that it was a little late for that sentiment.

“I wish to warn you.”

She took another sip of her tea and wondered if this was merely a bridge to another lecture about her schemes and manipulations. As if she was a reckless child with no self control, and not a woman trapped in the underground halls of the Autumn Court. They all gave her sympathy, but if they would not help her with their actions then their words meant nothing. She prepared to tell him off.

“I wish to warn you about Aya,” His eyes narrowed at Edana’s refusal to answer. But he had her attention now. She pursed her lips and locked eyes with him. “There are facets to her power she has not yet discovered. She could rival the best of us one day.”

“And you have not told her this?” Edana’s brows furrowed, “You do not wish for her to control it?”

“Not all of us fancy ourselves puppet masters,” Thesan said tightly, “I was hoping it would be her own discovery. She’s so unsure of herself.”

Edana stared for a moment longer. It had crossed her mind, the depth of Aya’s power. The ease with which she manipulated Eris’s wounds. Her skill was greater than any other healer Edana had met.

“And I suppose you will not tell me any more about her?”

“It is not my story to tell.”

Edana’s nerves were feeling a bit frayed. A scolding, a threat, and now a warning.

“Are we done here, Thesan?” She sighed and dropped the napkin from her lap onto the table.

Thesan’s eyes narrowed. No, he had hoped this conversation might last a little longer. He had more to say. But he was as tired of Edana as she was of him.

“Yes, Edana.”

Truthfully, she had always been this way. Paranoid, calculating. Even in her days as a young and single courtier, she gambled for scandals and drama, her ante paid in lovers. She had played these games for so long now, her entire world was tinted. Perhaps the right person could have encouraged her to hone that energy. But Beron brought out the worst in everyone.

Some thought her sons inherited their cunning from their father, but it was all their mother’s. All of their scheming they learned from her. Beron was as dense as he was cruel.

Thesan watched the Lady leave, her burgundy skirts swishing over the stone floor. Lady of Autumn, Queen of games, mother of foxes.

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cc-tinslebee · 2 years

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no because WHO gave him the right to look as adorable as he does in this scene. I just want to talk.

#this scene has no reason being as cute as it is. the only good Knox scene /hj #but I’m also in love with Chris so I may be biased #dead poets society #knox overstreet #josh charles #knox x chris #dps fandom #I have a LIST of scenes where he looks just absolutely pathetic. like stop giving me those puppy dog eyes you brought this upon yourself.#so don’t think I’m not immune to bullying him.#also some shots in this scene make him look very punchable.#but when he’s not trying too hard to look cocky or meek he looks good

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lxkeee · 3 months

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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

PART TWO

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.

PART ONE | PART THREE

The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.

Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.

There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.

Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.

“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”

Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”

[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.

“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”

Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”

The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.

“Now then, how about that walk?”

“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.

Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.

[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.

Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.

Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.

“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.

“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.

Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.

Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”

“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”

“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”

Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.

“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.

The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”

At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.

“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.

“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.

The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.

“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.

That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.

#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #“MLIMOM” — LUCIFER X READER

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silkythewriter · 3 months

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I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—

Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.

Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎

Warnings!: Non!

Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!

Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID

Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

“Call me, you can call me

Boy, just call me (call me, call me)

While you stalling, I'm evolving

I'd give all me”

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!

First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!

No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.

Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!

Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.

The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!

He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.

All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.

Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.

He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!

Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”

Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,

honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.

Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.

“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”

It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him

The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!

Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.

Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω｀💧)

He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.

At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.

He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!

He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.

It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.

Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)

He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!

overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)

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I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 6 months

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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

#Round 4 #Glenn Close #Lup #Lup TAZ #Dungeons & Daddies #Dungeons and Daddies #Glenn Close DnDads #The Adventure Zone #TAZ Balance

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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months

Text

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”

“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

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lizzieisright · 14 days

Note

Alpha!Abby is such an oddly specific thing to write about, thank you for your service.

I've never sent a request to anyone ever before but I wanted to ask if you can write more alpha!abby.

Ahahaha, it will make more sense if you know that I spent my formative years in SPN and Teen wolf fandoms when they were at their peak, and in and out of kpop fandoms as well. (+ I worked on og story with omegaverse because I wanted wlw with a strong omega lead, which led to me getting really in depth with a/b/o, and now I'm quite fond of it)

Palestine: what can you do

Fri(end)s pt 2

alpha!abby x omega!reader

Summary: after you start dating, the question of sex comes up and Abby finds out you have 0 (zero) experience. So Abby, being an amazing partner, guides you through everything.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), virgin!reader, no hurt only comfort, communication, they're incredibly comfortable with each other. for smut: dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering (r!receiving), penetrative sex (r!receiving).

a/n: it's a mammoth (8k). I know. I don't know how it happened.

tags: @ushijimaswife-77

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's no such a big difference between being friends with Abby and dating Abby. It might sound good since you're already super comfortable with each other, but being friends for so long with an alpha who is a player leaves its marks.

You constantly forget you have a claim on Abby. You see other omegas look at her, smell her, and you don't remember that you are her omega, not other people - you just chuckle and do nothing about it.

Abby gets confused because she can't stop fucking glaring at other alphas - but Abby is a possessive asshole, she knew it would happen. Still, you don't act like you're a couple sometimes, and it kinda hurts.

Abby watches how once again you freeze when another omega looks at her, your scent going just a bit sour, but you still do nothing, and Abby presses down her frustration.

It hits her only after two weeks of you doing it, why you’re doing it. She realises it when you two are sitting in her living room, drinking wine and chatting, like always, and when she does, she is filled with desire to tease you.

“I have a question.” Abby asks with a cocky grin, and you roll your eyes fondly. “You know you can scent me, right?”

Your eyes go comically big before you understand what she is saying, but then you avoid looking at her - not in a bad manner, but more like you want to hide from her.

“Um. Yeah. Right.” Abby laughs kindly and tugs you so you could sit on her lap. You're clearly embarrassed by your own obliviousness, and Abby wants to tease you so bad.

“Since we're dating? And I literally told you I'm yours?” You groan and Abby laughs harder.

“I'm so used to you fucking every pretty omega you see, my mind hasn't caught up yet.” You mutter, trying to defend yourself, but Abby's pretty laugh makes you smile. “Did it upset you?”

“A little. But I knew you wouldn't be cruel like this to me, so I figured you had a different reason.”

Your heart breaks a little and you take Abby's face into your palms, staring into her pretty blue eyes, while her arms are wrapped around your back.

“I love you.” You say with all your soul.

Abby blinks, her mouth falls open. She blinks again. Then her whole face goes red. You giggle and kiss her forehead.

“Thank you.” Abby says eventually and you laugh harder.

“What kind of response is this?”

Abby blinks and buries her face in your shoulder, embarrassed.

“I love you too. And I'm thankful for your love.”

You giggle and kiss Abby, pressing closer to her as her scent envelopes both of you. Abby holds you so tightly you can't take a full breath, but you don't care, you like being close to her.

You break the kiss and very tentatively, as if you expect Abby to stop you, rub against her scent glands. Abby's fingers dig into your ass and she sighs, her voice low. The room starts smelling like arousal and Abby chuckles.

“Have you caught up on the fact that I really want to fuck you or do you need more explicit confirmation for it as well?”

Your face burns with Abby's every word, but then there's a sudden smell of anxiety that makes Abby slow down.

“We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.” She reassures you, her hand caressing your back to bring you some comfort. Abby really doesn't like being a cause for your anxiety, especially in a topic that requires trust.

“Thanks.” You sigh and cringe at yourself. You're an adult, for fuck’s sake, there's nothing to be ashamed of. “I just.” You take a longer breath. You feel humiliated - not by Abby, never by her, but by some social expectations. “Please don't be weird about it. I'm a virgin.”

Abby freezes. You watch her blank face nervously - you don't know how she'll react. You keep repeating “there's nothing to be ashamed of” over and over in your head, but you start to crumble when Abby stays silent.

“You're being weird about it.” You chuckle nervously. Abby shakes her head and smiles.

“Sorry.” She then grins like she won this life. “I know it's stupid, but it makes me happy.”

You understand what Abby is saying: she is happy you trust her with this. She is also smug as fuck, this asshole, and you don’t say anything more - you’re not going to boost her ego out of the stratosphere.

“Do you want to have sex someday?” Abby asks gently, watching your face as your scent keeps being sour. She wants to comfort you, any way she can.

“Yeah. It's not like I don't know what it is, heat really makes you creative. But I've never been with another person. I'm nervous.” You tell Abby honestly. She nods, although your scent tells her you’re more scared than nervous.

“You've never smelled of anxiety before, when I flirted with you. Is it different because now it's a real possibility?”

You take a moment to think about it, and then nod.

“Yeah. I mean, I knew I wouldn't let us have sex, and you also knew I'd regret it, so I wasn't worried when we'd make out.”

Abby hums, figuring out how to handle this conversation and make you feel safe.

“What are you nervous about?”

You take a moment to think - it's not like you haven't spent time worrying about it, but you're not with some imaginary stranger right now, you're with Abby, so you make an effort to pinpoint the exact reason.

“Doing something wrong. You know how I always have to get everything right on the first try, and I guess sex is not an exception. Plus, you have so much experience and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me feel insecure.”

Abby hums again, thinking about your words.

“Got it. Well, I mean- having experience is great for building confidence and seeing how diverse people can be, but when you come down to it, every person is different. Every time when I was with a new person, it was the first time all over again, except my hands didn't shake and I didn't cum in the first five minutes.”

It makes you feel better and you chuckle. You're grateful for Abby taking such care with her words.

“Do you know what I like in bed? Do I know what you like in bed? I've got some experience, but we have no experience with each other. You know, even if you weren't a virgin, I'd still be nervous too.”

You laugh at this, not being able to imagine this alpha nervous. Abby doesn't do nervous. She is hot and confident and knows what she is doing.

“Would you?” You ask sceptically.

“Of course! You're my dream girl, I want it to be perfect.”

“You're such a sap.” You shake your head and kiss Abby, the smell of love and affection filling your noses. “Thanks. For being so patient with me.”

“Shut up, it's basic decency.”

“Well, when you put it this way, thanks for being basically decent with me.”

Abby pouts and you laugh, kissing her again.

You decide to take it slow so you can get used to being close to Abby in a different way. You talk about it more later on, go on a “let's get tested” date and make a system as Abby would slowly introduce new things to you and you'd tell her if it's something you like or not.

You're very eager to explore Abby's weak points - seeing what makes her run electric. You get fond of kissing her neck and rubbing circles into her hip bones - it never fails to get a sigh or a grunt out of her. Abby loves how enthusiastic you are, especially when you get all sciency-like with her and experiment on different parts of her body - that's how Abby finds out her sides are actually pretty sensitive. It's more playful than sensual, but you progressively get more comfortable with her.

Then you start touching each other under your clothes, and Abby has a hard time not growling into your mouth as you trace her newfound sensitive sides with your warm fingertips, while Abby gets to explore your back, running her fingers over your spine. She doesn't hurry into touching your tits under your shirt - only when you hesitantly cup her rib cage with both of your hands and run your thumb under her tits, Abby feels like she is free to do the same. Still, she needs it to be talked about.

“You can touch me, if you want.” Abby rumbles into your neck, sniffing this beautiful scent of arousal and love. “Do you want me to touch your tits?”

“Yeah.” You smile and Abby giggles before carefully cupping you right tit. You copy her and sigh, surprised. “Oh. It feels good. Yours is so soft.”

Abby laughs kindly at your childlike wonder and kisses you.

“They're sensitive too.” You grin and squeeze Abby's tit, but in your eagerness you do it too hard and Abby jumps. “Easy.”

“Sorry.” You ease up and gently run your fingers over Abby's nipple. “Does it feel good?”

Abby chuckles and runs her thumb over your nipple. You sigh and shudder, suddenly very turned on.

“You tell me. Does it?”

“Uh- yes.” You pant and Abby keeps brushing her thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. “Shit. I didn't even-” Your hips start to move and Abby watches you as you get desperate and needy. She can fucking smell how wet you are.

“If you want, you can rub against my thigh. Make yourself cum while I play with your nipples.”

You think about it for a moment.

“Okay.” You pant, but then you get an even better idea. “Wait, can we, um-” You swallow as you try to get your brain together, a little overwhelmed: Abby's touch is so much more pleasant. “Can you grind against me? So we both cum? Or it doesn't work f-”

You don't get to finish your sentence because Abby turns you on your back and gets between your legs.

“I fucking love your brain.”

You grin and let Abby part your legs, even though it makes you nervous. Abby can smell it, so she checks in with you.

“You okay? Wanna stop?”

“No, fuck no. Maybe slow down a little?”

Abby nods and doesn't make any quick movements. She puts your legs over her thighs, letting your knees rest there, but she doesn't move closer until you feel comfortable, caressing your thighs. You can see the tent in her pants and it makes you feel all giddy - you will never get tired of getting Abby hard.

“Come here.” You tug Abby down and she grins before kissing you.

Abby holds herself on her forearm while the other arm slowly guides your thigh on her hip, slow enough so you could stop her before she puts all her weight on you - it might feel safe, but it also might feel scary to be caged like this. But you eagerly let her manipulate you and buck your hips - you love having Abby’s weight on you. You can't help but arch into her desperately, keeping your legs spread wide.

“Fuck, it reminds of that time when you were with me during my heat.” You murmur and brush baby hairs out of Abby's face.

Abby smiles, visibly trying to be all collected and calm for your sake, but her scent betrays her - it's overpowered with lust. Her blue eyes have sprinkles of red in them and you grin.

“Move, Abby.” You laugh, and Abby laughs too, but then she presses her clothed cock against your covered pussy- “Uh!”

Abby smirks at you and starts slowly grinding her hips, while you try to not make any embarrassing sounds. It feels amazing, her cock is thick enough to rub you in all the right places, the tip of her dick catching on your clit and making you swallow another whimper.

“Do you want me to touch your nipples?”

You nod and Abby slides her hand under your shirt, rubbing and lightly pinching your nipple. You bite your lip before any embarrassing sound can escape, and Abby would find it endearing, but she wants to hear you.

“Hey, I wanna hear. Let it out. Let me know that I'm making you feel good.” Abby pants. Her cock rubs against your clit just right and you whimper quietly. “Yeah. Good.”

“If you call me- fuck! If you call me good girl I'll-”

“What? You'll cum?”

You buck your hips and glare at Abby: and she knows you're playful, but she's also scared of hurting you with unnecessary teasing.

“Do you want me to call you a good girl?” Abby asks genuinely and you get all flustered, not answering her question.

Abby kisses you behind your ear and you shudder. God her cock feels good and it's not even inside you yet, it's absolutely not fair. It is also unfair that Abby makes you feel good and you're doing nothing, so you slide your hands under her shirt and hold her sides, stroking them with your thumb. Abby's pace stutters and you grin.

“You're a menace.” Abby growls and pinches your nipples a little harder.

Her grinding gets quicker, bringing you closer to your orgasm. You wish you didn't have two layers of clothing between you, that you could feel Abby for real.

“Abby-” You whimper her name and Abby grunts, her hand squeezing your tit almost painfully. Her thrusts become erratic and you feel like you're on fire: Abby is cumming, her scent spiking with pleasure. She is going to cum because you said her name, oh god. “Abby, please-” You whimper again and Abby moans, her other hand gripping the blanket you're laying on. Her hips shake as she keeps grinding against you and you buck your hips, wanting to cum with her.

“Call me-” You ask Abby, desperate, hoping she will understand.

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl-” Abby growls and you cum with a quiet shriek, your thighs closing on Abby. She watches you like she's obsessed, like she is witnessing a miracle, and her dick keeps twitching and soiling her pants.

It takes a minute for both of you to even out your breathing, and then you laugh, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

“Wow. You're so fucking hot.” You tell Abby and she kisses your tit through your shirt. “Do you think when we get to real sex it will feel even better?”

“Just because I didn't put my dick in you doesn't mean this wasn't real sex, babe.” Abby murmurs, tired. “Who knows. Maybe you'll try it and feel like this is better. There's only one way to find out.”

You huff fondly and run your fingers across Abby's shoulders.

“Have you ever been with virgins before?”

Abby hums in agreement.

“A few. It was cool.”

“Was it awkward?” You ask out of curiosity: you don't feel awkward with Abby at all. She is your comfort person.

“I mean, not really. It was when one of them didn't tell me she was a virgin and I hurt her. So you know, thanks for telling me.”

“O wow. That must've sucked.”

“Well, we stopped and I ate her out in the end.”

“Oh.” You feel your face warming up.

Abby catches your little “oh” and looks up, curious. She thinks back to her words and grins.

“Wanna try? I'd love to eat you out.”

“Yeah. Sounds great.” You laugh, cringing at yourself kindly. “I feel like we won't go all the way before my heat with all of these things you can show me.”

“We're not going to rush. We'll find plenty of ways to fuck anyway, so if you want me to be with you during your heat, we'll figure it out.”

“Of course I want you to be with me, you dum-dum. You're my alpha.”

Abby wiggles on top of you and you kiss her head.

“You're a fucking simp.”

Abby bites your shoulder and you bite her too.

Now that you two are being more close than before you started dating, you finally feel the pull to mark Abby and glare at other omegas - of course they want Abby, she is fucking perfect, but she is yours.

You have it on good authority. Abby told you. Herself.

You start scenting Abby and she beams every time. She also notices your glares and she can't be happier - she loves when you get possessive. One night she teaches you how to leave hickeys, and you leave an absolutely gigantic one - you really opened your mouth wide for this one - and Abby, who is notorious for having no shame, feels the need to cover that one up because it's scandalous. You grin, satisfied, every time you look at it and Abby gives up. She stops wearing her turtlenecks.

After a few months, the campus finally accepts that Abby Anderson is now taken. Omegas stop looking at her like they have a chance, but keep looking at her like she is a god. You don't mind.

After that time when Abby made you both cum in your pants, you grow impatient. You don't rush with the whole penetration thing - you’ve felt how big Abby is and it is intimidating - but you want to get naked. You want to feel Abby’s skin, and feel her with your lips and feel her lips on you. (You might wanna grind on her cock as well)

“I wanna take my shirt off.” You tell Abby when you're making out in your living room: Abby is half lying on the couch while you're on top of her.

“Please do.” Abby smirks.

“I want you to take off your shirt as well.”

Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs her shirt off and then helps you take yours off. Abby stares for a moment, mesmerised by your tits - she knew you didn't have a bra on - they're pretty, they're soft and Abby really wants to play with your nipples and see if you'd be sensitive too when she will use her mouth.

“Holy fuck, doll. You're fucking beautiful.” Abby marvels and brushes her fingers over your warm skin, going from your shoulders to your hips.

“Take your bra off.” You nod at Abby's last defence and she takes it off so quickly she almost gets stuck in it. You lie down, pressing your chest on her chest and it feels so good. Abby is so warm and yes, she is pure muscle, her abs and chest are very defined, but she is still very soft. You kiss her shoulder right above her collarbone and Abby grips your waist harder. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah.” Abby sighs, happy. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“I want to get fully naked.”

“Jesus Christ.” Abby swallows. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“I thought maybe I should take you on that offer to eat me out?”

The way Abby's eyes don't take even a second to become bright red makes you giggle. Abby tries to suppress her desire to make you submit to her, but you feel her alpha presence getting stronger and more suffocating than ever. You nuzzle into her neck and Abby growls quietly, like a teenager - but you know she is fighting herself on just doing everything her way. You know it's tempting - you can't say you haven't fantasied about Abby just pinning you down and fucking you until you can't take it anymore - but Abby does have amazing self-control. Even if her presence tells you how much she wants to just bend you over and fuck you through this couch, her hands are gentle and she doesn't move.

“But first let's just get naked.” You smile and Abby nods.

You both strip completely and you just stare at each other. Your cheeks burn as you trace Abby with your eyes: her long legs, muscular thighs, her half-hard cock with curly blonde pubes around it, the v-line of her hips, her abs, perky little tits, her round, muscular shoulders, her arms. God, her arms. Soft, strong fingers, veiny wrists from lifting weights, chiselled forearms, the curves of her biceps and triceps. Abby looks like a god, her blonde hair almost like a halo, liquid gold around her. You don't want to stop looking, trying to see every mole and every scar on her.

You get so stuck staring at Abby you don't have a moment to get self-conscious, but then Abby reaches for your hand and the spell breaks. You realise you were just standing there, fully naked, in front of a literal Greek goddess, and your insecurities flare up.

“I really need to hit the gym, huh.” You try to joke, but Abby doesn't buy it.

“You're perfect.” Abby says with all the love she has in her heart. “I’m so privileged to get to see you like this.”

You chuckle, but hug Abby around her neck as she kisses you softly. She holds your waist, but as you're kissing, her hands start wandering over your hips, your back, stopping at your sides just to feel your curves. It feels good, having her warm strong hands all over you, and you press closer, feeling Abby's cock poke your stomach. Abby hums into the kiss and gently grabs your ass, messaging it.

“Bedroom?” Abby asks in a raspy voice and you nod.

You giggle as you walk to the bedroom holding hands, fully naked, and Abby chuckles at you - she loves how much fun you have, how comfortable you are with her. You're still nervous, but you don't smell sour anymore, and it's all Abby needs.

You climb the bed and watch Abby climb after you with a smile, opening your arms for her as she lies on top of you. You feel her cock and you can't help yourself - you buck your hips and sigh.

“Stop it.” Abby laughs and you buck your hips again. Abby gets harder and her grip on your waist gets tighter. “I'm gonna get you for that.”

“Yeah?”

Abby wants your cocky smile gone, so she leans to your neck and sucks a hickey into your skin, making you squeak and shudder under her. Abby smiles, her canines grazing your skin and you feel yourself getting wet. Abby is so damn hot.

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

“Yes, fuck-” You sigh and pet Abby on her head, weaving your fingers into her hair. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah.”

Abby starts leaving kisses all over your shoulders and chest, avoiding your tits at first, but then she feels confident enough to wrap her lips around your nipple and you gasp. Abby can smell how wet you're getting and she growls, her control slipping away.

She can't help it: you're pretty, pliant under her, you make the best noises and you're hers. She wants to sink her teeth in you.

“Fuck, it feels good.” You sigh like you're surprised. Abby chuckles and sucks on your nipple making you sigh louder, not moaning yet, but not quiet anymore. “Are yours this sensitive too?” You manage to ask and then you yelp when Abby gently bites you.

“Yeah.” Abby frowns when she sees your excited eyes. “No, right now you're just going to lie and be pretty for me.”

Your breath hitches - your body relaxes immediately and your head falls down on the pillow. You feel all fuzzy and horny, ready to do whatever Abby tells you to do, whatever your alpha tells you to do. Your thighs relax and Abby presses closer, her abs pressing against your cunt. The change in your behaviour is so sudden Abby slows down and looks at you, only to groan helplessly: your eyes are golden and pleading, inviting her to destroy you.

“Breathe.” Abby tells you and you breathe for a minute. Your head gets clearer and the golden of your eyes fades away.

“What the fuck was that?” You pant, surprised. You don't smell scared or anxious, and Abby can breathe easier.

“I accidentally used my voice on you.”

“Uh. Okay. So that's how it feels. Cool. Good to know.” Abby laughs and you laugh too before tugging her up and kissing her. Abby is getting impatient, so she breaks the kiss and resumes her trail down your body. She licks your nipple and you squeak again, but then she goes lower, kissing your stomach with an open mouth, biting you gently, while her hands bend your legs. Abby is so close to your pulsing cunt she has to force herself to be slow, and judging by how your scent changes just a little sour, it's for the best.

“This is embarrassing.” You laugh and cover your eyes when Abby finally moves down and puts your legs on her shoulders.

Abby kisses your thigh, ignoring the scent of your dripping pussy - she wants to bury her face in you - and then she blows a raspberry on your skin. You jump and laugh, glaring at Abby fondly, but she only blows another one.

“This is very unsexy of you.”

“Not true. I can smell how horny you're. You liked it.” Abby smirks, noticing how the sour smell left your scent almost completely.

You huff, but all your giggles stop when Abby kisses your thigh lower - you can feel her hair tickling your pussy. She moves lower and you fist the blanket under you: even feeling Abby's head move between your legs is already a lot. But it also so fucking hot, and then you feel her breath on your pubic bone and you grip her hair tighter.

“You smell so fucking good.” Abby says reverently, dragging her nose over your pussy. You're tense, so fucking tense under her, but you don't smell like you're distressed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it's just a lot. Every time you move I feel it so intensely.”

“Take a breath for me and relax.” You listen to Abby and breathe out, relaxing.

Abby is slow: she kisses all around your pussy, the junction of your thighs, your lips, your pubic bone. You're suffocating in her scent, you feel already devoured by her with the heavy scent of possession and dominance filling your nose. It helps you relax and Abby finally opens your thighs so she could eat you out properly. Her eyes are red and she can't help her growling - god, if you ever want to mate her she'll leave her bite right between your legs, because this pussy is hers.

Abby licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and you jump, your grip in Abby's hair tight.

“Fuck!”

Abby doesn't listen anymore: she tasted you and her brain waved goodbye. She licks all of your pussy, rubs your clit gently while you whine above her. You can't keep your legs open, caging her between your thighs, so Abby wraps her arms around them and pins you down, her instincts going berserk with the want to keep you under her control.

You look at her biceps bulging and roll your eyes in pleasure, letting the word “alpha” escape your mouth.

Abby's brain short-circuits and she moans into your cunt, humping the bed. You buck your hips in response but she just presses you down and shoves her tongue inside you, moaning at your taste. You squeak and get up on your elbows, overwhelmed: it's too much and absolutely not enough, having Abby's mouth on you, hearing all the noises she makes because of you, smelling her scent dominating you. It's good, it's so good and you feel so empty, you need to have her inside you.

“Abby- fuck-” You screw your eyes shut when she sucks on your clit. “I wanna- want a finger.”

Abby looks up and you fall back on the bed after meeting her feral eyes: you submit to her fully, and Abby smirks, satisfied. Abby moves away and watches your soaked pussy for a moment before caressing it with her fingers, making you twitch when she touches your clit.

“How many do you usually use?” Abby rasps.

“Two.” You whimper. Abby hums and slowly, very slowly, pushes one finger inside.

“God, baby.” Abby sighs dreamingly. “So tight.”

“I'm a virgin, Abby.” You giggle, but feeling Abby inside distracts you.

Abby tries not to think how you'll feel around her dick, so hot and tight, clenching around her, but even a glimpse of it makes her hump the bed. She watches your face as you get used to having someone else's finger inside of you, and then she curls her finger gently. You gasp, and nod, humming in approval.

Abby starts moving her finger and curling it, seeing your cum collect at the base of her finger. It takes you little time before you relax and Abby pushes the second finger in. It's tighter and Abby doesn't move her fingers when she smells a faint scent of hurt.

“Hurts?”

“I like it.” You say shortly, because you do like feeling how Abby stretches you. You think about her dick stretching you and you clench around Abby's fingers, making her growl, her self-control crumbling.

You don't need Abby to be careful, but she still is, curling her fingers gently. You're moaning quietly on every curl and the hurt evaporates from your scent - it's beautiful. Abby puts her mouth back on you and you whine when her thrusts inside you match the pace of her tongue on your clit.

“Oh my god you'll make me cum.” You whimper and Abby groans, her humping gets more aggressive. You fist the blanket in your fingers, feeling your lower stomach tensing in approaching orgasm. “Shit, oh my god, Abby, please-”

You grip her hair tighter, practically shoving her face into your cunt and Abby moans again: she loves feeling your fingers in her hair, loves hearing you beg.

It takes one more gentle curl for your whole body to tense and a loud whimper to escape your throat. Your scent spikes in euphoria and Abby groans when she feels how you pulsate around her fingers. She drags her cock over the covers and shudders, too turned on, while she watches your face. You're fucking divine like this, cumming on her fingers, the only thing keeping you still is Abby's grip on your hips.

“Abby, oh my god, fuck!” You moan and your hips jump when Abby sucks on your clit, but the pleasure starts to hurt. “It's too much, please-”

Abby moves away and watches your cunt flutter around her fingers rhythmically, drenching her hand. She is spellbound, and for a moment you two are in separate worlds: you're coming down from your high and she is somewhere in her darkest fantasies. Abby will never hurt you, but she cannot not think about fucking you right now, pushing inside you and not letting you escape her, splitting you on her cock.

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but then you look at Abby and gulp: her eyes are so dark with something hot and dangerous. It makes you shudder and you remember that she hasn't cum yet.

“Abby-” Her sharp eyes look up and you feel like you're in front of a predator. “Come here, baby.”

Abby climbs on top of you, her fingers still trapped inside you, and you kiss her. You feel her cock poking your thigh and suddenly you’re overcome with the need to make her to cum.

“I wanna fuck you so bad.” Abby admits and licks your neck, half-feral.

“I wanna make you cum.” You tell her and kiss her temple. “Lie down.”

Abby slowly takes her fingers out of you and licks them clean, making your face burn, but you don't stay embarrassed long: Abby lies on her back and you're presented with the magnificence that she is.

“I'll need your help.” You tell her: even though you're very turned on, you're still intimidated. For a moment you feel like you bit more than you could chew, but Abby gently pets your head and nods.

“Of course. Don't push yourself, doll.”

You feel easier after that and lean down to kiss Abby's scent glands. She squeezes your thigh and hums in pleasure. You move lower, kissing her sternum and then, like under some spell, you latch onto her nipple. Abby twitches and moans quietly, and your ears ring: it was one thing hearing Abby groan when she was between your legs, and another thing knowing it's your direct actions that make her moan.

Your eyes fall on her stomach, where the precum is glistening, dripping from her hard, wet cock. Abby is big, fuck she is big, and you mouth salivates. You try not to think how it's going to fit in you one day, but right now you really want to fit it in your mouth.

You crawl between her legs and Abby gulps while her fingers grab your hair. She is not guiding your head, letting you control the pace. You wrap your fingers around her cock and Abby hisses, so turned on by seeing your hand on her dick. You look up, panicking that you hurt her, but Abby's scent only spikes with joy.

“Tighter, baby.” Abby pants and you listen, eagerly wrapping your hand tighter and pumping her cock. Abby starts panting, her chest heaving, and you smile.

“I love seeing you like this.” You murmur and then, in a sudden wave of bravery, you lean down, licking the head of her dick. Abby grips your hair tighter, almost causing pain, but you don't care.

You take your time to adjust to the velvet soft texture and the salty taste, but the more you lick, the more addicted you get, especially smelling her growing arousal, her desire to break you.

“Shit, baby.” Abby growls and very lightly pushes your head down: you don't even register it at first, but then you eagerly swallow her down, as much as you can take. Abby moans and her thighs shake: your mouth is hot and wet, and Abby breathes through her nose to not cum immediately.

You notice and grin before sucking on her head, whirling your tongue slowly. Abby groans, soft delicate sounds falling from her lips and you look up to her, making eye contact.

“I won't last long, babe.” Abby growls and you wiggle your butt, delighted. “Yeah? You like the thought that you can make me cum so soon?” You hum in agreement and Abby's head falls on the pillow. “Shit!”

This is interesting. You keep moaning around Abby's cock, sucking her off as best as you can, and then you cup her balls gently, scared to hurt her. Abby moans, loud, and you wish you had something inside you right now to compensate for emptiness Abby’s fingers left in you. It's so hot seeing Abby coming undone, Abby, who probably had way better blowjobs in her life, but because it's you, it turns her into a teenager.

“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum.” Abby moans and you hum again. “Fuck!”

You let Abby cum in your mouth, even though you don't know quite what to expect - but you feel her balls tighten and her cock pulsate as your mouth gets filled with her cum, and you don’t move away, too greedy. It's a lot, but it's not unpleasant, although you can't keep up and swallow everything. You let her dick out of your mouth and a few spurts end up on your face.

Abby pants and moans, watching your surprised face: she laughs through her moans and wipes your cheek with a shaking hand.

“Thank you, baby.”

You grin and flop on top of Abby, kissing her. You both are covered in cum, and it makes you giggle, knowing you're gonna smell like each other for the next few days.

“Love you.” Abby murmurs, sleepy: she always wants to nap after sex. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. Can't wait for you to fuck me properly.”

“Whenever you want, babe. Whenever you want.”

It's ironic, but you have your first “real” sex (cue’s Abby's eye roll) in the morning. It's Saturday and you both sleep in: Abby's holding you close even in her sleep, her arm wrapped around your waist. You wake up earlier than Abby and giggle: not the first time when you wake up with Abby's hard cock pressing into you. You have no idea what she is dreaming about, but you hope it's you.

And this time, you can actually do something about it. You snuggle closer to her and kiss Abby's scent glands, making her sigh. It makes you grin and you snake your hand down into her boxers, lightly brushing your fingertips over her cock. Abby sighs again and bucks her hips, seeking more, but you stop and kiss her neck again.

“Abby.” You call sweetly, not wanting to startle her, and she hums. “Wake up.”

“What's up?”

“Your dick.”

Abby laughs at this and you smile, happy.

“Wanna do something about it?”

You hum and stroke Abby's cock gently, feather like - the quickest way to get her worked up. Her scent gets heavier and you chuckle, gripping her cock tighter. Abby grunts and sneaks her arm behind your back, prodding at your hole - you're wet, your thighs are sticky with your cum.

“Got yourself worked up, huh?” Abby asks, her voice still sleepy and raspy. You nod and wiggle your butt, trying to get her fingers inside you. “How about you ride me?”

You gulp, suddenly extremely turned on, your scent getting thicker with desire, and Abby moves the blanket away. She helps you straddle her and you part your lips so they're on either side of Abby's cock, your clit dragging over her length. It's hot, you love covering Abby in your cum, feeling extremely possessive over her.

Abby holds your hips in her strong hands and guides your moves on top of her, keeping them slow. You both pant and moan, you twitch when Abby pinches your nipple under your shirt.

“Take it off.” Abby growls and you smile, a little fuzzy from her voice: she can't always control it, ordering you around. You throw your shirt somewhere and Abby grunts: seeing you on top of her, confident, safe, giggling and moaning, is the best view in her life.

Abby squeezes your sides when your clit catches on the head of her cock, and when you slide up, you feel her poking your hole. It sends a hot wave down your spine and you try to do it again, slowing down every time you grind back, making Abby's cock press into you.

Abby catches up on your actions and moans: you are a menace. She wishes you pushed a little harder, pulled her inside, into your tight, hot cunt.

“Abby-”

“Yeah, baby?” Abby pants, watching your determined face.

“Fuck me.”

Abby blinks and digs her fingers into your thighs, so fucking turned on: you want to take her. She will finally claim you, she will be the first (and the last) person you trust with this. You still smell a little nervous, but Abby learnt to read it by now: when you're good nervous and bad nervous. This seems to be a "good nervous" scent.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Abby brings you down and kisses you, kneading your ass so you could keep grinding against her, her scent quickly growing agressive. She pushes one finger in carefully and you moan, desperate.

“Abby, please-” You beg and Abby gulps, fighting for her self-control.

She turns you both and slides down to put her mouth on you, and you whimper when Abby gently sucks on your clit. You're wet and you smell like her, your scents mixing together. It drives Abby crazy: she wants to mate you so fucking bad, she wants you to be hers for the rest of your lives.

You take two of her fingers easily, dripping down her palm after all these times Abby fingered you, and Abby licks up all of your cum, addicted to your taste. But then Abby presses the third finger in and you grip her hair, excited. It goes tighter, but you love it - you even get a little sad when the sting of the stretch passes. Abby curls her fingers and you jump, dangerously close to your orgasm.

“Abby- Don't- don't make me cum.” You beg through your moans and Abby looks up.

“Why?”

“Want to cum on your cock.”

Abby would laugh if it didn't turn her on so much. She sucks your clit on purpose and you jump before tugging on her hair.

“I swear to god-” You start your threat but Abby curls her fingers, making you squeak.

But Abby slows down: she wants you dripping, relaxed and blissed out before she fucks you. She keeps moving her fingers slowly while she licks and sucks on your pussy, and you sigh sweetly above her, your grip on her hair relaxing. Abby is almost lazy, but she watches you intently. You're wet, your cum mixed with her saliva and Abby moans quietly, getting off on the fact that she marked you. Your thighs start twitching soon, and you tug on Abby's hair again.

“Come here.” You ask, and Abby obeys. She slowly takes her fingers out and kisses you, letting you taste yourself. You moan when you feel Abby's taste lingering as well.

“You're so beautiful.” Abby murmurs into your neck as she nuzzles you, wanting to comfort you and make you feel safe.

You nuzzle back, grinning: you love how Abby takes care of you. You hug her shoulders and kiss her gently, slowing down as well. Abby snakes her hand between your bodies and slowly circles your clit with her thumb, watching intently as your face changes from pleasure; she tries not to overwhelm you. You sigh softly and Abby chuckles into your shoulder.

“You're cute.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh, embarrassed. Abby laughs too and kisses your tit before gently sucking on your nipple. You thread your fingers through Abby's hair and arch into her. “I love you.”

Abby's scent spikes and you giggle.

“Love you so much.” She whispers feverishly into your skin.

She takes a pillow and puts it under your butt, making you comfortable. Both of your clothes are around you and you feel extremely safe. It's Abby, it's your alpha, she will take care of you. You spread your legs and Abby parts your folds, replacing her thumb with her cock. You sigh and shake under her, too sensitive. You love when you grind against each other: it's so intimate and perfect. You know Abby loves it too, your slick making the best sounds for Abby's ears.

You watch Abby frown and bite her lip to not make any sounds, so you kiss her, not letting her hide from you. Your clit catches on the head of her cock again and you both moan.

“Come on, baby.” You encourage Abby and she nods, lining up her cock with your hole.

“If I smell hurt, we're stopping.” She warns you and you nod. You don't want your alpha to know she hurt you during your most vulnerable time either.

Abby doesn't push right away, just lightly pressing on the edges of your hole like you did it yourself before, but when she gets the head of her cock wet enough, she pushes harder.

“God.” Abby sighs, feeling your tight walls squeeze her cock. You don't smell like pain so Abby pushes further while you cling to her shoulders. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

You hum, but you're too concentrated on your own feelings: Abby is so big and it's a lot, it's intense and feels so different from her fingers. You're thankful she doesn't go all the way in, giving you time. Abby slowly pushes back and forth, fucking your gently until all of her length is inside you, and you relish in the feeling of her being in you. Abby bottoms out and you cling to her, turned on from being so full, so stretched. It doesn't hurt but it still stings a little - and you like it. You like knowing Abby is a little too big for you.

“I'm gonna cum.” You whine when Abby slowly thrusts inside. You need one little touch to your clit and you'll come undone, you're sure of it. “Slowly, yeah?”

Abby nods and kisses you as she slowly fucks you; she doesn't go all the way out, letting you get used to it. You moan softly as she moves, her cock touching every nerve ending in your walls.

“Good?” Abby asks, and you understand that she is nervous. Your heart swells with affection and your scent spikes with love.

“Perfect.” You smile and kiss her. “You can go harder.”

Abby grips your thighs and thrusts hard enough to punch the air out of you. You choke on your moan and Abby pulls out, watching her cock glisten with your cum. It makes her feral and she gets more confident, fucking you harder, letting her hips slap against yours. It's intense and you can't think, overwhelmed by how good it feels, so you let your brain go all fizzy.

“Fuck, Abby, please.” You whine desperately and Abby swallowa, gripping you harder. She doesn't want to hurt you, but you start bucking your hips, trying to get Abby deeper and that's it.

Abby’s scent changes: it’s suffocating now, bending you to her will, dark and possessive. Abby pins your thighs to the bed and starts hammering inside you, growling on every thrust. She knows you can take it, smells your pleasure, so Abby doesn't restrain herself. She fucks you hard and fast, listening to your whines and whimpers with the only thought in her head:

“Mine.” Abby growls and you bare your throat for her like a good little omega you are. “You were made for my cock, taking it so well on your first try, huh? Good fucking girl.” Abby leans down and sucks a hickey into your scent glands, claiming you.

Your eyes roll into your skull and you claw at Abby's shoulders, so desperate. You're close, but your brain is a mush and you can only beg. Abby smirks and moves her hand down your thigh so she can hold you open and flick your clit with her thumb.

You shake and cum with a loud moan, spasming around Abby's cock, and she groans. Abby bottoms out and stills, letting herself feel it, how your walls trap her inside. It's better than any of the fantasies she had before: not only you're so tight around her, but you're also so fucking pretty, with her mark blooming on your neck, your throat still bared. You're vulnerable, trusting, and Abby feels honoured she can get you to this point. But then she gets hungry. She starts moving again, and you're lost in your pleasure now: your head is so fuzzy, your cunt is full with your alpha's cock, and all you want now is for Abby to cum deep inside you, claiming you.

“I'm yours, fuck-” You squeal when Abby thrusts especially deep.

Abby chuckles and starts thumbing your clit, eager to make you cum again.

“And I'm yours, pretty girl.” Abby sighs, getting hazy with her own devotion to you, the smell of love almost overpowering lust. “Cum.”

You close your thighs around Abby and cum again, not able to disobey her. It's a neat trick, having Abby use her voice on you, making you even more turned on. Abby moans softly as she tries to fuck you through your orgasm, but you spasm right on her head and she cums with a groan, bottoming out, painting your walls with her cum. You’re still pulsating around her, milking Abby’s cock and she pushes even deeper, until you choke on your moan and press on her shoulder to stop her, but you’re so deliciously tight Abby can’t help herself. She digs her nails into your inner thighs and pulls out just to see her cock covered in your and her cum, mixed together.

“So fucking pretty.” Abby growls and pushes back in, overstimulating herself. You feel her twitch inside you, and you sigh, also overstimulated.

You're shaking, but you still find some strengh to bring Abby closer, burying your nose in her neck, whining and panting into her ear while she sinks her teeth into your shoulder gently, not causing any pain.

“Jesus.” You pant as your head clears up.

“Are you okay?” Abby asks and you chuckle: there she is, your caring soft alpha.

“I’m fucking floating in space, Abby.”

“Good.”

You lie like this for a few minutes before Abby pulls out - you wince, sore, and Abby comforts you with kisses. She insists on helping you in the shower and brings you her softest clothes, and you tease her for being so whipped. Abby rolls her eyes and puts her hoodie on you. It hurts to sit just a bit, but you don’t mind and hiss at Abby when she tries to make it easier for you.

You’re hers, your body and soul, and you want the evidence of it to be constant.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #alpha!abby #it feels like a letter to my younger self for some reason

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sweetadonisbutbetter · 20 days

Note

Hellooo. Could I have scenarios of soft Adam? Anything is fine, just possible moments where he’s being soft for reader? Maybe it’s late at night or something? Or maybe it’s early in the morning and he doesn’t wanna get up? Just some prompts just so I’m not being too vague

Thank you!

I DID NOT FORGET MY ADAM PEOPLE- getting other fandom works in there teehee these are so cute tysm for ur request!! apologies if its short 💞💞 also tan/brown adam ftw!!!!! 💯💯💯

Fade into you | Adam x GN! Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnings: None!

It was a common thing to have lazy mornings with your husband. Especially if he had to do something later in the day, he would spend most of his morning cuddling up next to you while you attempt to push him off. Not that it ever worked, and he always showed up late to his events anyway.

“What’s five more minutes? Not like they will miss me.”

“Baby, they are hosting your party.”

“Ahh who needs that when I have you?” Was what he always said before sinking further into your chest.

It seemed that today was no different. You awoke to a weight on your chest and hands under your shirt. Already knowing who it is, you place a hand on your husband's hair and comb through it with your fingers. He hums, giving your sides a squeeze for a moment. You tug on it slightly, making him groan and you laugh a little.

“Is there anything on the agenda today?” You ask him, just as you do every morning. He says nothing, just humming as his hands move under you to your back. You giggle at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your soft spots, hoping Adam doesn’t take advantage of his weight on you. To your relief, he doesn’t, just fully holding you. He shifts a bit, getting comfortable between your legs before once again resting fully on you. You tug at his hair once again, a way of asking him to answer.

“No.” He gruffs, putting his face further into your neck.

“No? Are you sure? If I call Lute, she would tell me the same thing?” He smacks his teeth and bites back.

“There is no need to call danger tits. There is nothing happening today.” You pull your hands up in mock defeat.

“Sorry. You normally lie about these things.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Honey, you literally missed a meeting with Sera and Emily once because you would rather be in bed than do anything else.” You coo, combing his hair again. You feel him take a deep breath as he removes his head from your neck, now looking at you.

“Try being dead for all of humanity.” You roll your eyes and boop at his nose.

“While I may not have been dead for as long as you and Eve have old man, I am still pretty old compared to the newer saints.”

“Winners.”

“No. That is a dumb name. I will never be called or call the others winners.” You argue.

“No? Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You affirm, before feeling Adam attack your sides, tickling you. You shriek in shock before devolving into laughter. You try to escape, however it proves futile as Adam is on top of you.

“What are we called?” He asked, still tickling you. Through your peals of laughter, you shout out,

“SAINTS!” Adam mimics an incorrect buzzer sound as he starts to now get at your tickle spots faster. With the feeling of tears gathering in your eyes, your cheeks and tummy hurting, you can’t help but give in to his stupid demands. “F-Fine! We are c-called winners- STOP AH-”

He stops at your hasty white flag, a smug smirk on his face. Catching your breath, you look at your husband. His brown hair was a mess, just as it always was. His tan skin looked wonderful in the heaven light that peaked through your window. It seemed that he was also admiring you, as his smirk began to soften into a small smile, a look of utter fondness and love in his eyes. You wonder if you had a similar look on your face. Rather than ponder it any longer, you pull Adam down by his shirt for a kiss. He lets out a gasp at the suddenness of your grab before sinking into the kiss. Your hands fly to his face as his hands go down to your sides, lightly passing the tickle spots he has abused previously. You giggle a little into the kiss, before pushing his face away.

“I seriously hope you had nothing important today. You don’t have a choice now but to stay with me.”

“Babe, I would stay with you for eternity.” He says, his voice soft, the voice he reserved for you and you alone. You smile and pull him into another kiss.

loll i was going to joke that this was the one year Adam forgot the extermination.

#hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader #adam x reader #☾adoniswrites #anon ask #anon request

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daytaker · 2 months

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augiewrites · 2 months

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"boundaries" - dallas winston

summary: dallas carries y/n to bed

pairing: dallas winston x curtis sister!reader

word count: 478

a/n: idk if this is a dead fandom but at least three times a year i remember that the outsiders exists and become obsessed again lol

Y/N hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so when she fell asleep on the couch Darry couldn’t bring himself to risk waking her up. The most he dared to do was drape a blanket over his sleeping sister before retreating to his bedroom for the night.

Dallas, however, didn’t give a shit.

He needed somewhere to sleep, and she was in his designated spot.

Dally had just lifted Y/N into his arms when her eyelids fluttered open, still weighed down by sleep.

“Darry?”

“No—shut up and go back to sleep.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped open at Dally’s unexpected voice and briefly registered him carrying her across the living room.

“Where we goin’?” Y/N’s voice came out in a mumble as her eyes fell shut again.

“Bed. Need a place to crash tonight.”

“And you chose my room? Gonna be a tight fit.”

Glory, she’s annoying even when she’s barely conscious, Dally thought, but he was too tired to be his usual combative self.

The hallway was dark, but he could see the shimmer of her eyes looking up at him from the void. He never liked the way she looked at him—there was too much hope, too much recognition, too much of an implication that she knew something he didn’t.

Dallas wasn’t exactly known for being respectful, but Darry’s acceptance of him meant a lot more to him than he would ever be willing to admit—even to himself. So, despite becoming quite fond of Y/N, he kept his distance. If there was one thing Dallas loved to do, it was to test the boundaries of every relationship he’s ever had, both friendly and romantic.

This was one boundary Dallas had reservations about crossing.

“Do you hate me, Dallas?” There was a softness in Y/N’s voice that was rare to hear coming from the girl.

Dallas paused in the threshold of Y/N’s bedroom and dared a glance down into her eyes, but quickly snapped out of it and kept moving across the room to her small bed.

“No, stupid.” He unceremoniously dropped her on the bed and turned to move out of the room, but he was stopped by her calling out to him.

“You not gonna tuck me in, Winston?”

He threw a glance over his shoulder and was met with the knowing glint in her eyes that he was ever-growing uneasy of.

Catching himself, he snapped back into character, scoffing and throwing a stupid plush dog at her head. He remembered the gang’s trip to the state fair a few years back, remembered how excited she was when Soda won it for her after seven tries at the ring toss, and he remembered her shoving it in his face while teasing that the K-9 unit was coming for his sorry ass.

“Go to bed.”

The door closed behind him with a solid thud.

Stupid girl.

~~~

i'm trying to get back in the writing groove but i'm so uninspired lol—feedback is appreciated as usual :)

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proseover-bros · 9 months

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BEDROOM HYMNS BY PROSEOVER-BROS

FANDOM: The Walking Dead

TITLE: Bedroom Hymns

STATUS: Complete

ERA: Season 7

PAIRING: Negan Smith x Female Reader (No Use of “Y/N”)

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

SUMMARY: On the night of the lineup, Negan took one look at you and knew that he had to have you. What you never anticipated was just how desperately you would end up wanting him back.

RATING: Mature (Minors DNI)

WARNINGS: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Language, Sexual Situations, Dirty Talk, Begging, Praising, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Teeny Bit of Fluff

A/N: I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone that I love Negan just as much as I love Daryl. Needless to say, seeing JDM’s sexy ass on my screen again every week was just the inspiration I needed for this smut-fest. Hope you enjoy! If so, comments/likes/reblogs would mean the world!

What the fuck am I doing here?

The same question had been repeating itself in your head as your reluctant footsteps brought you to the outside of Negan’s apartment. All of your instincts were screaming at you to get far away, but before you could so much as knock, the door swung open to reveal that smug, irritatingly beautiful face.

You knew he’d been waiting for you. When Simon had made a beeline for the truck the moment you returned from that afternoon’s run, it was a dead giveaway. Not to mention the fact that Negan had you hauled back the second he realized you’d snuck off in the first place.

Earlier that morning, you’d heard a group of the Sanctuary’s scavengers talking over breakfast. Today’s run was supposed to be through a neighborhood ten miles west of Alexandria. This was your chance. Your plan was to return, but only long enough to pack your things and get gone before anyone knew the wiser. The last thing you wanted was to create any more trouble for Rick and the others when all they’d ever done was help you.

Unfortunately, your entire plan went to shit when Negan had gotten in touch with Mike, the Savior who was leading the expedition. You’d overheard their conversation on the radio, listening as Negan ordered Mike to bring you back to the Sanctuary if he wanted to keep his balls attached to his dick. If Mike had been anyone else you might’ve felt bad for getting him into trouble, but he wasn’t. Mike was a Savior, and therefore not worth one damn bit of your sympathy.

He drove you back to the Sanctuary, bitching about the waste of fuel and resources the entire way, and when his truck pulled up right outside of the towering building, you turned to face him.

“If you were stupid enough to believe that he’d let me go in the first place, you deserve whatever you have coming.”

Mike snarled, opening his mouth to no doubt call you a bitch or a whore, but by the time the insult traveled from his pea brain to his mouth, you’d already opened the door to the passenger side and jumped down from the truck to an awaiting Simon.

“What is it about you?” Simon asked by way of greeting. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot as hell, but there are loads of hot women for him to choose from — women whose job it is to please him. Why’s he so enamored with you?”

“Oh, enamored!” You exclaimed sarcastically, earning a glare from the man who had the bushiest mustache you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Someone’s been brushing up on their vocabulary.”

When Negan’s right-hand man crossed his arms and raised an equally bushy eyebrow as he awaited your answer, you rolled your eyes and strode past him. “Just lucky, I guess.”

The truth was, you didn’t understand Negan’s obsession with you either, but it went all the way back to the night of the lineup. That night and the fear you’d felt as you anxiously awaited his arrival with the rest of Rick’s group would stay with you forever. You’d all heard plenty about the Saviors’ infamous leader, but none had ever crossed him. Once the group had honored their agreement with Hilltop and attacked what they’d thought was the Saviors’ only compound, you’d assumed Negan had been included in the body count.

That assumption had cost Glenn and Abraham their lives.

You would never admit it, not to Negan, not to yourself — not to anyone — but the moment that the door to the RV swung open, you were just as attracted to him as he was to you. He may have been the man that both Hilltop and the Kingdom had warned your group about, but even you couldn’t deny that he was beautiful — psychotic or not.

As hard as you tried to fight it, your attraction to him had only grown since that horrible night, and after finally succumbing to it when you’d shared a kiss with him just yesterday, you’d gone out of your way to put some distance between the two of you. Until now, when you knew that continuing to avoid him could result in something horrible for Alexandria.

“Well, look who it is!” Negan exclaimed as he appeared in the doorway, opening his arms wide. He was attempting to hide his anger at finding his bed empty that morning with his typical show of bravado, but deep within his hazel eyes, you knew that the anger was laced with something else.

Hurt?

No, it wasn’t possible.

No fucking way.

This was Negan. He wasn’t capable of that emotion.

You brushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, finding it very easy to act as if it hadn’t happened when he continued with his usual theatrics. After allowing him to lure you to his apartment with dinner and drinks the previous evening, Negan had convinced you to stay the night, and you’d agreed, mostly because you didn’t want anyone to catch you leaving his bedroom so late. The entire evening had been established as a way to pay him back after he’d agreed to let Dr. Carson go to Alexandria to treat Carl, who had developed pneumonia after going on a run in the rain with Daryl and Sasha.

When you woke up that morning, it was in Negan’s bed, but he’d at least played the part of the perfect gentleman and taken the couch, which made it easy for you to slip out just as the sun was rising, completely unnoticed.

“What do you want?” You snapped, annoyed.

Stepping back, Negan opened his door wider to let you in, the flash of emotion you’d just seen on his face quickly forgotten as his signature grin replaced it, stretching wide across his handsome face. Foolishly ignoring your conscience for the second time that day, you stepped forward, entering his apartment.

“Pretty sure you know the answer to that question.” He grinned.

“And you chose me rather than forcing yourself on one of your ‘wives’?” An exaggerated gasp left your lips as you placed a hand to your chest with mock pride. “I’m honored.”

Negan shut the door behind you and within seconds you could feel him on your heels, his warm breath ghosting the back of your neck. “You really think I need to ‘force myself’ on anyone, darlin’?”

Ignoring his proximity, you moved away, stepping over to the kitchenette and mindlessly running your hand over the counter. Turning to face him now that you’d put some distance between the two of you, you crossed your arms over your chest and narrowed your eyes at him.

While Negan may not have noticed you leaving his bedroom that morning, someone else had. Sherry. The two of you had walked back to the cafeteria where she’d filled you in on how she had become Negan’s wife just a few weeks ago. It was an ultimatum that she’d agreed to in order to keep her real husband from receiving a worse punishment than the iron.

“I am not a rapist.” Negan continued defensively. “Every one of those women have come to me, willingly.”

“Willingly?” You scoffed, glaring at him in disbelief as your anger began to mount. “When you threaten to kill someone’s husband unless they agree to be your whore, that isn’t willingness, that’s desperation — and you fucking know it!”

Negan rubbed a hand down his jaw as he stared at you, but for once he didn’t have a witty comeback to toss your way. If the circumstances had been different, you would’ve celebrated such a victory. The man who never shut up, finally silenced? It certainly was a sight to see. As it was, you weren’t exactly in the mood for celebrating.

“That’s right, I talked to Sherry. Try again, asshole.”

For a moment he remained silent, tapping two fingers against his bottom lip as he appeared to be deep in thought. But when he met your eyes again and you watched as that wicked grin returned to his features, you knew that he felt no sense of shame, and your victory over him was short-lived.

“Ah, I know what this is . . .” He began, his deep, gravelly voice practically purring as he sauntered closer and lowered his hands to your hips. “You jealous, baby?”

Rolling your eyes in pure disgust, you covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly. “Oh, I fucking hate you!”

Negan’s grip moved from your hips to your forearms, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe for a brief, absurd, fleeting moment I didn’t absolutely despise you last night — but that’s over. Done. I want to go home. I want to go back to Alexandria.”

For a moment, nothing was said. He worked his jaw as he took in your words, but refused to believe in them. “Not happening.”

“Why?” You hissed, pushing his hands away when he attempted to return them to your waist.

Negan frowned but didn’t reply.

You couldn’t believe that you’d managed to stump him twice in one night.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“Take it easy.” He warned you.

“‘Take it easy?’” You laughed, outraged by how nonchalant he was being. Negan, who could put your potty mouth to shame, even on an off day. Nowhere near in the mood for this, you slammed your hands up against his chest, throwing all your weight forward and shoving him as hard as you could.

“Why the fuck not, Negan? Rick and the others have been killing themselves getting you everything you’ve asked for. They haven’t let you down once!”

Before you could fully remove your hands from his chest, he grabbed you by the wrists and pressed you to the wall, crowding your body with his.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You absolutely hated yourself for the abrupt feeling of desire warming in the pit of your stomach as he closed in on you, those dark eyes staring you down in a way that made your heart race.

“Because I’m not letting you go. Because it’s different with you. I felt it — you felt it. I fucking know that you felt it.” Raising his hand, he moved it forward to cup your chin, his thumb and forefinger dipping down to graze the sides of your neck. “And I haven’t fucked any of those women, not since you got here.”

“And what do you want for that? A prize?” You hissed, desperately trying to keep your train of thought on what was important. “This isn’t me being jealous of your harem, this is me being disgusted with you for taking advantage of these women in the first place.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you last night when you kissed me.” He murmured, his eyes darting down to your lips.

“You kissed me.” You corrected him.

“And you kissed me back.” He smirked.

Lowering his hands from your face, he placed them over your hips once more and pulled you flush against him, letting you feel what thoughts of the previous night were doing to him. You closed your eyes at the sensation as he molded your body to the erect outline of his cock, your resolve weakening.

“That was a mistake.” You whispered, hating the pathetic sound of your voice.

“You don’t believe that.” He argued.

Biting into your bottom lip, you swallowed hard but said no more, not sure that you could trust what might come out of your mouth next.

Suddenly, Negan scoffed. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

Finally opening your eyes to look at him, you narrowed them into a glare, daring him to elaborate.

“I let you pick the job you wanted, excluded you from the point system. Hell, I even let you take that hick piece of trash’s place—“

At the mention of Daryl, you swung your hand out and slapped him across the face so hard that it left your palm numb and stinging. Negan’s head whipped to the side from the impact, and when he looked back at you, that smug smile was finally gone from his lips.

“Don’t you fucking call him that.”

Negan growled and in the blink of an eye, pressed you back once more, slamming his free hand against the space beside your head. Your back connected with the dry wall, a startled gasp leaving your lips as you stared up at him, wondering if you’d finally gone too far. Moving his hand to your throat, he gave it a gentle squeeze but even as you felt your heartbeat quicken from the contact, you weren't scared of him. This wasn't fear you felt, this was something else entirely, and when his eyes darkened and he lunged forward to roughly press his lips to yours, you kissed him back rather than allow yourself time to think about what that feeling was.

Negan’s kiss was hungry; his mouth devouring your lips, tongue, and every single moan that escaped you while his strong hands held your face far more gently than you’d ever thought him capable of. Opening and closing your mouth against his, you returned each of his kisses with equal fervor; a mixture of passion, anger, lust, hatred — every single emotion you’d ever felt for him, merging into one — your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved you from the wall and carefully backed you over towards his bed.

Gently breaking the kiss, Negan stared down the several inches he had on you, the look on his face very much resembling a starved man. With your eyes on his, you opened your mouth to speak when a sharp gasp left your mouth instead, his hands having found your ass and lifted you into the air against him before gently setting you down on his bed. Over the next moment or two he took his time removing your button-up flannel, tank top and jeans, his lips tenderly kissing every new inch of skin that became exposed to him.

Moving his hands to unclasp your bra, he let it drop to the side before lowering his body over yours. Negan had always considered himself an ass man, but with you he didn’t want to graze over a single body part. Pressing his lips to your neck, he used both hands to cup your beautiful breasts to his face, and you welcomed the rough feel of his calloused hands and warm tongue as his mouth lowered to each smooth mound long enough to tongue both of your nipples into stiff peaks. His hands continued their descent to your hips, your thighs, your ass, until finally he hooked his thumbs beneath your underwear and pulled it off.

Quickly removing his own shirt, Negan loomed over you, his eyes greedily taking in every inch of your body with a groan that let you know he was loving what he saw. Wasting absolutely no time, he grabbed you beneath your knees and dragged your ass to the center of the bed as he kneeled, pulling you close to his face and dipping his mouth between your legs. Breathing heavily as you allowed your body to recline against the pillows, you tilted your chin, watching as he skimmed the soft skin of your inner thighs, the scratch of his beard and feel of his lips teasing you mercilessly.

“Look at my beautiful girl,” He grunted in awe, groaning at the sight of you completely spread before him, pink and smooth and glistening with your slick arousal. You’d been wet from the moment you saw his face and heard his voice when he’d first opened that door, and if he’d given you any time to think it through you’d probably be a little embarrassed, but then he leaned forward to lay a sloppy kiss over your wet heat and all those thoughts of shame faded away.

“Fuck—" You cursed, tossing your head back as his mouth found your clit with ease, his tongue darting forward to caress the tiny bundle of nerves as he used his lips to suck it further into his mouth. Instinctively, your back arched and your hips lifted off the mattress to be closer to his skilled mouth as he feasted on you. Anticipating your response, Negan slid his hands beneath you to grip your perfect ass, anchoring your body to him with his hands and mouth as his eyes traveled up to your face. He’d waited far too long to see you at his mercy, and he wasn’t going to miss a goddamn second of it.

After a few more moments spent skillfully eating your pussy and learning just what you liked, one of the strong hands clutching your ass slid from beneath you and returned a second later when he thrust two of his long fingers inside of your tight cunt, stretching you. Negan lifted his head for a breath and groaned against you as he felt resistance meeting his knuckles.

“So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you, darlin’?”

Staring down at his beautiful face nestled between your thighs, you nodded eagerly, jerking your hips to the rhythm of his fingers as you shamelessly began to fuck yourself up and down on top of them. You wanted more — you wanted him — and anything less wasn’t going to satisfy you for long. Snaking a hand along your abdomen, you slid it up between your breasts and shoved a closed fist against your lips, biting the skin of your knuckle.

“Fuck,” He hissed, his eyes hooded with pleasure as he watched you move your beautiful body in sync with his fingers, your breasts bouncing with each movement as he curled his fingers inside you to graze that tightness within that left you writhing with pleasure. You were a goddamn treasure, and he was loving every second of this. “And so fuckin’ wet for me, too.”

Lowering his head once more, Negan lashed his tongue over your clit again and again, slowly but insistently while he continued thrusting his long fingers in and out. He could do this all goddamn night if that’s what it took, but with the way your body was starting to shake against his mouth and fingers, he knew you were close.

“Come for me, baby.” He breathed against you, twisting his fingers deep inside as he hummed over your clit. “Let go.”

“Oh, fuck — Negan!” You cried out, feeling that beautiful heat building up in your stomach and licking down to your core, your toes curling as your body began to jerk and spasm with the most intense pleasure you’d felt in years — maybe ever. Negan lapped up every bit of your release, taking his time as he cleaned you up, his graying beard and chin glistening as he climbed back up your body.

Your breathing was beginning to slow back down, but before you could get it back to normal you caught sight of his face and lifted your hips to pull him forward. Grasping his chin, you pulled him into a heated, messy kiss that he all too happily returned.

“You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy now?” Negan murmured against your lips before leaning forward to give you another soft, languid kiss. Hearing your eager moan of approval, he grinned onto your lips as he slid his tongue forward, letting you taste yourself. Tucking his hand behind your head, he threaded his fingers through your hair and gently tugged back so that your eyes were level with his.

“Then you’re gonna be a good girl and look at me while I do it.”

Negan watched as you processed his words and as your expression went from aroused, to pissed, then back to aroused again. But he knew that he had you. Of course, it was a risk, and if it hadn’t paid off he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough not to beg for your forgiveness. Not allowing you any time to change your mind, he slipped his middle and index fingers forward to spread your slick folds, pressing his forehead to yours as he felt you shudder beneath him.

Not letting up, he found and stroked your swollen clit, rubbing torturous circles around it with the pad of his thumb and eliciting a sharp gasp from you. A beautiful, overwhelming shock went straight back to your core; your nerves still heightened and sensitive after everything he’d just done to you with his mouth.

“You want it?” Negan repeated himself, though his tone didn’t sound the least bit impatient. He was enjoying this far too much. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to the smooth flesh of your breasts, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses across your taut, pink nipples.

“Negan . . .” You whined.

How had you become so desperate for this man? Your enemy? How could you let him touch you with hands that had murdered your friends? Kiss you with the same mouth that had humiliated Rick, time and time again? You hated begging, and you hated the idea of begging him of all people, but in that moment you needed him to fuck you more than you needed air to breathe.

“Not good enough, baby.” He murmured. “Let me hear you say it.”

Fucking prick.

Kicking your pride to the curb, you stared up at him and nodded quickly as your teeth found your bottom lip, your gaze going from his face to the erection in his pants, then back to his dark, hazel eyes.

“I need you, Negan.” You begged, practically whimpering as your hand splayed out against his chest to grip the dark, coarse hair that grew there. “Now.”

“That’s my good girl.” Negan praised you, another smirk taking over his features.

The floor creaked beneath his weight as he stepped down from the bed to unbuckle his belt, his jeans and boxers soon joining the pile of clothes on the floor. Spitting onto his palm, he took his massive cock into his hand and gave it a few leisurely strokes as he stared down at you. Jesus. He was just as huge as he’d always assured you, and part of you fucking hated him for that.

Climbing back over you, Negan captured your lips in another kiss as he slid between your thighs, slapping the thick tip of his cock over your clit a few times before inching himself inside of you, his eyes watching as your mouth fell open in a gasp; completely overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. Meeting each other’s gaze, you both slowed to stare at one another, clearly overwhelmed by just how fucking incredible it felt to finally be joined.

When you thought back to your fantasies of fucking Negan, you’d always wanted him to take you from behind, but it was clear that he wasn’t going for that. He absolutely would not provide you with any opportunity where you could pretend this wasn’t happening. The knowledge that he would only fuck you on his terms aggravated you to no end, but if you were being honest with yourself, you loved watching his reactions to the things your bodies did together. The way his brow furrowed as he thrust forward; the way his lips parted to elicit a husky groan of bliss when he finally buried his cock deep within you. And that smile. That insufferable, shit-eating grin that spread over his face, dimples shining through his scruff, all while his eyes stayed locked on yours. You wanted to slap it off and kiss it all at the very same time.

“Jesus-fuckin’-Christ,” Negan hissed, thrusting his narrow hips forward and burying his cock deep inside what had to be the sweetest, tightest heaven he’d ever had the pleasure of fucking. He looked down, mesmerized as he watched your tight cunt swallow him whole, in and out, over and over, delighting in the sounds you made as he stretched you inch by inch and you lifted your legs to wrap around the back of his thighs and ass.

“Uhh, Negan! Mmm . . .”

Your body reacted instantly to everything he did, your hands clutching his chest as you rolled your hips against his again and again, giving as good as you got. This man might be a monster, but he knew exactly what your body needed, and for right now that was enough to help you temporarily forget all the things that he’d done to the people you loved.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” Negan hummed, digging his fingers into your hips as he steadied himself, pulling them just how he needed as he set up a steady rhythm. The sounds of his grunts and the wet, obscene noise of his cock going in and out of your pussy as it impaled you at such a delicious angle grew louder, and you could only pray that no one was loitering around in the hallway when you cried out his name while he fucked you harder, deeper, and better than anyone else ever had or could.

“Say it again,” Negan grunted, leaning over your body to gently palm your throat, pinning you in place as he used his other hand to swipe his thumb over your clit. “Fuckin’ say my name, baby. ”

“Negan,” You cried, not even ashamed as you felt him circling hard at your clit. “Fuck, Negan, fuck!”

Every time your hips rose to meet his — your movements, your expressions, your cries, his name on your lips, everything you were, everything you did — it all pushed him further to the edge. Anticipating that you were close, he quickened his pace, knowing that he wouldn’t be far behind.

“Look at me while you come all over my cock, pretty girl.” He demanded as he moved his hand from your throat to your mouth to trace your plush, swollen lips.

As if out of instinct, you flicked your tongue forward, lashing over the pad of his thumb and earning a low growl from him when you did exactly as he said, holding his gaze as he teased your climax from you, that delicious warmth fluttering through your stomach, then down further as your cunt pulsated and throbbed over his cock through every wave of your pleasure.

Gripping your hips, Negan moaned with you, lost entirely in your gaze as he chased his own release. Lowering his head, he met your lips once more in a bruising kiss as his cock swelled inside of your cunt and he spilled himself deep inside of you with several, brutal strokes.

Finally spent, Negan rolled to the side, reclining against the mattress and breathing deeply as he rested his hand over his abdomen. For a moment the two of you laid in peaceful silence, but only for a moment. Finally coming down from your high, you moved your palms to the mattress, about to push yourself up when Negan grabbed your right hand.

“Stay.” He said softly.

Quickly looking over at him, you frowned, about to shake your head no when he gripped you harder.

“Look, you can go back to goddamn hating me tomorrow. Just . . . just give me tonight first.” He pleaded.

Watching closely as he held your gaze, you found yourself at a loss for words. In that moment, Negan was being completely vulnerable, and he was letting you see that — more than that, he was begging you to stay. After a few seconds, he looked down, assuming you were going to deny him anyway, when you suddenly squeezed his hand back.

Rather than answer right away, you took his face in your hands and leaned forward to press a slow, tender kiss to his lips. When you broke it a few seconds later, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you searchingly.

“Tonight," You promised. “You can have tonight.

#negan smut #negan x female reader #negan x reader #negan smith smut #negan smith x female reader #negan smith x reader #negan x you #negan smith x you #the walking dead smut #twd smut #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan smith fanfiction #negan smith fanfic #jeffrey dean morgan #twd negan

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honestsycrets · 11 months

Text

Amor y Respeto I: Mi Alma || [Miguel O’Hara x Latina!Reader]

Chapter II: Corazón

❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked.

❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, gif credit to the original owner, nsfw, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.

❛ sy’s notes | not my usual fanfare and i’m a little rusty but miguel hit me straight in my heart. i consciously omitted spanish translations in this work. consistent pet names include mi alma (my soul) & muñeca (doll). this is not my usual fandom and i may have missed some fandom nuances, so i apologize in advance for creative liberties. lastly, emotions impact the reader’s healing capabilities, hope that's clear enough. thank you @lisinfleur and @ivarsrideordie for your help. i’ll be dropping an ivar fic soon, see you then!

In your cultura, disrespect was unacceptable.

You knew it. Your lover knew you knew it: but for you, there was something greater than respect. Amor. If he knew that you knew about her little escapade, oh, it would be unforgivable. It undercut the very foundation of what he did at HQ. But even between lovers, where the time you spent was fleeting and unstable, there were things you could not share. Besides... how would he know?

The day had been long. Your body ached with the dizzying speed of patrols past the vine-covered high-rise apartments of your beautiful city. Your room was stuffy with the tropical air struggling against humidity. With dried blood on your skin, the perfect remedy was a shower. Its warmth soothed your aching muscles after a long day. You found your mind wandering to problems that didn’t immediately demand a solution. How you’d avoid cotton mouth the next time you saw him. Sooner than you thought.

The shower door whizzed aside, plumes of steam fading into the cool air. “Shit!” you shouted, reaching to cover your body. Miguel bent his head as he stepped into your cramped shower and cupped the frame. He shut the shower door. Did he already know? You nipped your lower lip raw and the taste of blood turned your tastebuds. Somehow, you knew that he hadn’t slipped off from HQ just to have you. Not tonight. He had that glazed-over look in his sharp eyes, considering you the same way he might consider anyone else.

“Miguel?” you fluttered your lashes at him which winked off plump droplets of water. “Mi alma, que paso?”

“Did you know?”

You reached out to turn the knob of the water off. It creaked to a stop. Despite tracing the droplets that coasted down your curves, he watched you with otherwise uninterested eyes. When you failed to respond, he stomped closer, kicking up the water that swirled under your bare feet.

“Did you know?” His fist pounded the side of the shower wall. Your heart leapt into your chest where it fluttered painfully, encased in your chest. Miguel bared his angular teeth at you. Teeth that usually marred your neck with possessive bites, loving kisses, and teasing scrapes. He never bared them at you like this. It was always a possibility, never the reality.

You met his eyes. The certainty you had moments earlier that oh, he wouldn’t find out, was gone. Of course, he found out. Your Miguel always found out. With that dead, blank expression, you knew the gravity of your situation.

“Of course, I knew.” His chest swelled with forceful inhalation of air as you spoke. “But Gwen… I, they’re only kids. Kids who--”

“Kids? They are not just kids. Coño, I’d expect this of them,” he prompted your name and took a step forward. You took one back. Then another, knocking your back into the shower walls. You were like a small bird in an even smaller cage. Nowhere to run and still, he wasn’t about to give you the luxury of personal space. You were pinned between his firm chest and the two stony walls against your back. His voice lowered dangerously low, barely a murmur against the shell of your ear. “But you? You know what’s at risk.”

“They love--”

“Y que?” he snapped your name out again. “Tell me, when those kids destroy thousands of lives, what does that change? Have you ever stopped to think of that? Of the lives this will ruin?”

“I just... wanted them happy. If even for an instant.” You hung your head. He set his clawed hand to the side of your head, combing through the stringy strands of your hair down with a false care that you wanted to believe in. But it was entangled in the strings of his manipulation. “Of course, you have, muñequita.”

“Then can’t they--” His hand balled up into a fist and careened with the wall behind you. Your head snapped away as his claws unfurled and released crumbling bits of the wall by your naked toes. You’d have to clean that up-- later. You took a deep breath and exhaled the frustration that packed away in your belly. “Sabes qué? I am sorry that love isn’t enough for you, I am sorry that I have never been enough for you.”

“No. No puedo con esto,” he looked down at you. As he leaned in, his forearm above your head supported his body weight. “Muñeca, por favor. This isn’t about us.”

“Why can’t it be?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I just want to be with you, but you won’t let me in,” you reached out. The soft pads of your fingertips hovered by his sharp jawline eased past his ear and into his ruffled hair. For a second, brief as it were, his eyes softened. He leaned into the touch. You had your window. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Whether or not he was past the anger, the disrespect, his thick arms wound around the small of your waist. In some bid to bring you back to your senses-- to him, he set his forehead against your own, dwelling in the soft scent of your floral soap that filled his nose. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. His body became as sturdy: unmoving and guarded.

“I can’t give you what you need.” He reached back to remove your hands from his hair and with care settled them back on your moist chest. As he made his way out of your bathroom, his warning echoed through your mind. “Stay out of my way.”

Miguel’s love was unstable. Affection, not love. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you always knew it was bound to fail. You were lucky for what time you had with him. It made subsequent missions all the harder, wrapped up in this innate desire to be loved by a man who allowed himself to be loved by none. Without his affection, HQ felt barren. Its many corridors held no life, no love, and no prospect of a better future. Yet, for Miguel, there you were. Your ballet flats tapped furiously alongside the ringing stomps of your partner’s steel-toed boots.

“Ay bendito, this isn’t healing,” you dabbed your fingers in the blood at your shoulder, storming past a sea of red and blue that parted for the pair of you. Your neck was oozing-- well, not oozing so much as soaking your outfit. The mission could have gone better. Sometimes your mind wandered at the worst of times. It didn’t matter, not now. It was done, he would be happy, and it would be enough for today. All that you did you did for him-- and he knew it.

“Your man won’t be happy about that,” Hobie cut through the crowd while walking backward. He made it look so easy. Conviction, you guessed, made life much easier.

“No,” you took the end of your silky rebozo and held it to your shoulder. “He only cares about results. We have good results. What does he have to be angry about? He has everything he wants.”

“Hm.” Hobie hummed, span around, and leaned over your shoulder. He was on your tail with his aggravatingly long legs no matter how quickly you walked.

“Hobie, por dios.”

“He broke up with you, didn’e?”

You didn’t have to answer him. You didn’t even need to talk to him. You could just keep walking and leave it to his imagination. Yet, your face faltered. The perceptive man he was, Hobie twisted in front of your path. He leaned his hips back and sank his face inches apart from yours. Hobie quirked a smile in his lazy eyes and an adorable lip pout. Your eye centered on his piercing to avert your focus from his words.

“Yeah,” he answered his own question. “Bet he did.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you swerved around him.

“Maybe.” Hobie shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and sped after you. “But I’m with you.”

“How sweet.”

You knew your Miguel would be there: on that stupid platform, staring at multiple screens, at a lost life, departed from his reality in any other capacity but maintaining the happiness of others. Well, others that weren’t like you. You found him in that very same position when you pressed into his lab.

“What is it now?”

“We’ve taken care of it-- Hobie and I.”

“Good,” came his dry response. “Is that all?”

“Not in the mood to talk to your girl, eh?” Hobie clicked, throwing his arm over your shoulder: not out of care, or friendship, but spite. No matter the institution, Hobie always seemed to harbor harsh feelings for those in charge. If it meant pissing him off a little, rattling up the flow of HQ, Hobie was always an eager volunteer. Hobie turned his lips to your ear and prompted your name, “C’mon, leave him. Let's go get a drinky drink.”

You bit out a cry at the pressure on your neck, the damn thing wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it needed to be. You blamed the bundles of anxiety that rattled up emotions low in your belly. It was still open, soaking Hobie too. He didn’t mind a little blood on his shorn uniform. Good for the image, and all that.

“That hurt, Hobie!”

Miguel threw a glance over his shoulder. Just a moment, but enough to spot something else that agitated him. Your normally white outfit, fluttery and light, splattered with the blood that painted your red rebozo a little redder. Or maybe it was Hobie’s lips on your ear, making remarks about beer-- or whiskey-- or-- Molotov--

“Get off,” Miguel pounced down from his kingly stoop and flicked Hobie’s wrist. He snaked his wrist away, shoving his palms back into his pants. You threw him a look knowing that it was not because Miguel told him to but because he felt like it. The devil’s advocate that he was. Miguel unraveled the rebozo from your neck. His hand grasped your chin and angled it one way, then the other, rumbling in clear agitation “You’re wounded.”

“Déjame quieta. Don’t touch me.”

“And you?” Miguel rocked back on his heels, setting his well-corded arms on his hips. Then, he angled his body toward Hobie. “Where were you?”

Hobie lifted his pierced eyebrow. “He serious?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Can you? And you-- why are you still here?” Though Miguel asked the question, it was a statement. Hobie held his palms up, fluttering his fingers in mockery. You watched Miguel run his fingers down the bloody rebozo, counting its bloodied inches.

“Vente conmigo.” He leaned into your ear. The trill of his voice danced down your spine, low and husky. Your mind wandered to the many nights he whispered just the same in your ear. You suppressed the shiver, your heartbeat trembling so violently you were sure you could hear its pathetic thumping, nearly a cry. It hadn’t been long but... you missed this.

“You told me to stay out of your way. I am staying out of your way. Give me--”

“I won’t ask again. Either you come or I’ll make you.” That was it then. A flash of disbelief snapped across your face. The gall of this man. Even though he told you to stay out of the way, he demanded that you leave the lab with him? You caught Hobie perking up to look your way with shiny curious eyes. He pointed to his chest and then yours, suggesting… something you’d ignore. Hobie slipped out a smug hum.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Hobie.”

There were no good alternatives. You knew he would make good on his threat. Not that you particularly would want to fight him anyway. Whether it was respect or obligation, you ran after your Miguel, who already walked away. You snatched the rebozo from his waiting hand, suspended in the air.

Yes, your life was a delicate balance between love and respect. You weren’t sure which of those guided you back to Miguel’s dimly lit room. Only that as you sat on his bed, your once-was lover was behind you. His fingers worked swiftly on your neck, furiously tugging at your sore neck with what felt like a needle. No point complaining. It would eventually end. You could go find the boys. They could rail you about your dating choices as they always did.

“Lyla will find you another backup partner,” he broke the silence. You rathered he didn’t operate in this limbo of false intimacy. Your lips parted into a sigh rife with agitation. The drawback of fucking your boss was this, you supposed. He controlled your life.

“No, she won’t. I like working with Hobie. I want him.”

Miguel paused short of dipping the needle back into your skin. “What do you mean-- you want him?”

“What does it sound like? I like working with Hobie. I trust Hobie. So I want Hobie by my side.” You slapped your lacey thighs and turned to gaze into those familiar eyes. “Así que, no, I do not need another backup. I don’t need you controlling every inch of my work life. I need you to hurry up.”

“Muñeca. If you’re emotional, you’ll heal slower.”

“Do not call me that,” you jumped from his lush bed. Your neck squealed for you to stop and let him fix what was clearly broken with the slack thread that connected your body to his. Oh, and what a metaphor it felt like. Your life was sewn together by a man who held all the strings in his hands. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. You made it clear how little you feel about me-- and my feelings.”

He lifted his eyes to yours. A long, slow look. The sort of look that made you question it all. As if the things you said weren’t really from your lips, no matter how sure you were of them. You broke the exchange first and grasped the long strand embedded deep in your neck.

“Your feelings,” he held out his hand and tugged the line, “tend to get in the way of what needs to be done.”

Startled, you looked down at his open palm. You slipped your smaller fingers into the middle of his palm and sat back on the bed. He slid behind you, pressing his core against your backside-- because that was completely necessary. With soft care, he shifted your hair over the opposing shoulder and continued his work.

“Apart from that, you shouldn’t have gone on that mission. You were distracted. If you weren’t so emotional,” Miguel murmured. “We wouldn’t be here.”

If you weren’t emotional? You screwed your eyebrows together in a pathetic attempt to ignore what he just said. To ignore the way that he demeaned the fuel of your abilities, what guided you through this traumatic thing called life. Meanwhile, Miguel functioned on minimal emotion-- the suppression of what he’d lost by protecting what he was.

“It’s your fault I was distracted in the first place.”

“You should be able to control your own feelings.”

“Fine. Apúrate. I’ll get out of your way.”

Miguel snapped the healing aid thread and ran his clawed fingertips across the long streaks on your neck and shoulder. It was mere moments that he lingered there circling your neck. As your breathing evened out, you felt your body pull together fibrous strands of tissue and heal. Yet, you couldn’t care.

“Done.” Miguel refused to address your gaze but opted to draw your top back into place to over your breasts. You stood and secured the buttons of your halter top behind your neck. That was it. You’d return to your duties, healed half by your emotions and half by Miguel. You would need to learn to ignore the love you had for him. One day, all this would be well. Miguel rolled up the excess thread around his reel.

Fine. If he was going to ignore you--

“Do you think,” you paused long enough to debate your words. Enough for Miguel to glance up with his stoic red eyes and lift an eyebrow at you. It irritated you how unemotional and consistently unbothered he could be when you stood there just the opposite. Always desperate for a sign of his feelings. “Hobie wants to fuck?”

There were some lines you should never cross. While you would never actually fuck your partner, the mere mention of the thought ever crossing your mind was one step too far. It was terribly disrespectful. Miguel’s reel plopped onto the floor and rolled short of your feet.

You slid your palms over your hips before hooking at the bend in your waist. His gaze focused on the glide of your hands trailing slowly down your sides. Sides that he often snatched in the dead of night after a warm shower. Or that he’d cling to during lovemaking. Your following words caused him to lurch off the bed. “Qué piensas? He might still be in HQ, no?”

“What,” His hand fit along your neck like a tight collar. The next moment, pain radiated from your skull and blurred your vision. The pain licked flames of excitement to life in your belly. A gasp slipped from your lips. Instead of shock, your cry was tinged with delight. With his wild brown hair slumping forward over his scarlet eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. His claws squeezed your neck, jerking and slamming your head once more. His breath tickled your cheek. “What did you say?”

Of course, he couldn’t help himself: the control freak. He was a genius. You knew he knew it was bait. He had to. But your looming threat was enough for him to take the risk. Your lips curled, laughing your words rather flippantly. “I said-- do you think Hobie wants to fuck?”

You eviscerated his already thin patience. The searing pain of his fangs piercing your battered neck seared all thoughts of Hobie from your mind. Your hands choked out a pitiful cry. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel-- calma.”

The familiar burn of his frantic biting, his violent ownership of your body, made your body slick. He lifted your hips onto his, legs dangling over his slim thighs. Crunched up against his massive body, you felt small but as if you were the focus of his world. Just how you loved to feel when you were encased in his arms.

“You think he could fuck you like I can?” His gravelly voice rumbled. His face pinched tight, daring your response. “That you can replace me— so easily?”

No, the answer was a resounding no. But he didn’t need to know that. If Miguel thought he could play games with you, you’d play games with him. The last forty-eight hours had been a blur of his rejection. It was only fair that Miguel felt the same.

Blood seeped down from your neck, a feeling you were accustomed to today. On the other hand, you weren’t accustomed to how he tore into your uniform as if it were as offensive as your harsh words. You calmly noted that you were glad to have multiple: a consequence of doing this work too long.

That was it. You slid your hands up his forearms, around his firm biceps, to his broad shoulders. There you rested your arms, knocking your foreheads gently together. Past the rage, you recognized the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The promise that you were lying. For security under another name. You refused to give it to him: he never gave it to you.

“He is Spiderman, isn’t he?”

He shifted the pad of his finger between your lips. Your tongue slid over his thumb, crooked in your mouth to suppress any more words that he may regret hearing or that you may regret saying.

“He may be,” Miguel rasped. His lips quirked into a wicked grin. With Miguel’s sudden sharpness, you weren’t expecting to see his smile. You welcomed it, a rare delight that you found yourself loathing the more he spoke. “But you’re mine.”

His. The inklings of fear you previously spotted in the depth of Miguel’s eyes seemed to weaken, sliding his thumb from your lips, rolling past your nipple, and the muscles of your stomach. He slid past your vulva, trailing with expert care along your slit. It was barely a touch if even a graze. Words failed to form. They were a thick bolus in your throat, congealed and thick.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I thought so.”

Your eyes trailed Miguel’s strong jawline and ambled up toward his lips. Your gaze lingered there as his fingers slipped between your lips, finding your cunt soft and wet. His eyes flickered toward your shy gaze and danced his lips against yours by virtue of his words. “It doesn’t seem like you’re that interested in finding him.”

“How would you know?” you cried out when one of his clawed fingers dipped inside your body. Your hips jerked onto his hand to seek out more of him. Your traitorous, awful body. It wasn’t comfortable when he scratched you while stroking your velvety inner walls. But you always needed more of his touch.

“Oh,” Miguel hummed. He bent close-- your eyes now focused on his high cheekbones. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and know that he knew how weak you were for him. “I know. It’s the way you look at me.”

“As if--” You dropped your eyes, reveling in the pressure of his prodding fingers, the delight in having him here, with you, once again. It shouldn’t have felt as intimate, as comforting as it did, but it did. His fingers withdrew, pleased with his work. “You know I can give you what you need.”

“You said you couldn’t,” Miguel slipped his fingers into your mouth: sweet and sour with your own excitement and the scratches of blood. His hands worked at the waist as you secured yourself on the wall with your hands, knowing what was next-- and expecting it.

“I lied.” he drawled out, a long hum. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself as you watched, anticipating the soft prod of his cock’s head at your entrance. It hadn’t been long. Yet, as he buried himself in the warmth of your body, you inhaled a wealth of air into your chest, exhaling it in soft shudders. Perhaps it was the fear of never having this again.

His large hands shifted underneath your ass and pinned you square against the wall. His claws drew blood to the surface of superficial cuts. Your hands snapped to his shoulders and clung onto him for some security. You found no rest between the wall chafing your back and Miguel’s long, pointed strokes into your body. Your body burned with the pull of his dick dragging in and out of your cunt, fighting to keep him inside with every squeeze and pull. He wasn’t lying, you knew. But it didn’t matter. Not when you were his complete and utter focus.

Miguel let a word of praise slip free as he ground into you. With a wall of muscle before you and the sturdy wall behind, breathing was slight and hard to come by. It had to be what he wanted-- to make you focus on him and him alone. It’s what you deserved after antagonizing the man. Your hands found his hair, knotting your fingers in it, and accepting the ferocity of his deep, then shallow strokes into your core. Your eyes flitted shut as he bottomed out, grinding his hips in tight circles. As you came, your body furiously clenched onto his cock, slowing his sweeping thrusts.

You craved it: the moment of Miguel’s weakness. Your body urged out his orgasm with a noise tempered by pleasure and annoyance. Your cunt milking earned you a particularly firm slam of his hips. Miguel would drag you down to take it all. He spilled into you with a deliciously unique warmth, grinding his hips until spent. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck. In place of another hard bite, he gently kissed your collarbone and throat. After he finished, he settled you down onto the floor. But your legs were sloppy, weak shaky things. Miguel snatched your hand as you swayed to keep yourself upright.

“I have to go,” you held his hand begrudgingly for support. Then bent down to pick up strips of your clothes. Yet another victim of your relationship with him. You would have to... mend this. Somehow. Probably not. “They’re expecting me--”

“Muñeca,”

“Cálmate, Miguel. You know I’m not going to fuck him,” you swiped the coursing fluids down your thigh. You dragged your hand down Miguel’s firm chest and danced your finger up his chest to flip up his chin. He glanced down, puffing air from his nostrils in protest. His eyes rolled, oh so slightly. “He’s not my type. I like them big, mm?”

“You would if he was?” he bristled.

“I never said that.” You said. Despite this fact, certain needs needed to be met. Ones that if he didn’t fill, someone else would. You both knew this. Your work was long and stressful and done in the name of the man who was before you. If for nothing but that love, you knew you would keep going. You believed in Miguel: his choices and his heart.

“You didn’t need to.”

“Mi alma--” you stopped, waving your hand at his pet name. “All this is fleeting. I need someone that will meet my needs. To tell me they love me. Can you?”

He pressed his lips together and stewed on your request. You knew without a question in your mind what that answer was. In the aftermath of sex with Miguel, he was closer to you than ever. And yet, it was impossible to convince him of an actual connection. For him, it was easier to leave you than love you.

He didn’t need to say it.

“I know you, Miguel. You didn’t lie. It was the truth,” you slipped your hand from his. Instead, you opted to set a fleeting kiss on the side of his lip. For better or worse, he didn’t reciprocate. Your steps carried you backward. Then, you afforded him a small deprecating smile. “Other than sex, you can’t give me what I need.”

#Miguel O'Hara x Reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman imagines #spiderman imagine #spider 2099 x reader #sy writes #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara oneshot #across the spiderverse imagine #marvel imagines

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 11 months

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Difference of Opinions (Part 1)

Fandom: Spider-Man, Spider-Verse, Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara, f!Reader Summary: You went against the man you loved and helped Miles escape. Now you must face Miguel's wrath. Word Count: 1821 TW: Angst, Betrayal, Anger, Glitching, Left for Dead, Miguel has a temper Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to get sucked into writing for this movie, but this idea wouldn't stop nagging at my brain so here you go!

Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Series Masterlist

*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*

As you watched Miles disappear in a flash of the Go Home machine, you couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, you had been afraid that he wasn’t going to make it. That despite everything you, Hobie, and Margo had done to help him, Miguel was going to stop him before he could escape. But he got to go home to try and save his father. He had a chance.

However, the smile slowly faded from your face as Miguel roared and ripped the arm off of the Go Home machine. You had been so focused on getting Miles off of Earth-928 that you hadn’t considered what happened afterwards. This was going to be bad.

The room had filled with other Spider-people who had all been involved in the chase for Miles and they all just stared at Miguel. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Margo’s avatar disappear and you sighed in relief. At least she would escape Miguel’s fury.

Right now, his focus had turned towards Gwen. As they began yelling back and forth at one another and Miguel dragged her into the Go Home machine, you started to back out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. While part of you wanted to run to Gwen’s aid, she was being sent back to her own universe. It was heartbreaking to watch– especially knowing what was going to happen to her father when she returned –however, she was getting off easy considering her part in getting Miles involved in the Spider-Society in the first place. Things could have been a lot worse for her. As they would probably be for you if you didn’t let Miguel cool down for a while before confronting him.

You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Red webs coiled around your arms and legs pinning them to your body and making you fall to the floor. Before you could try to squirm your way out, Miguel yanked hard and you flew backwards into him. He caught your chin with one large hand, his nails sharpening into claws and digging painfully into your skin as he held you off the ground.

His red eyes flashed dangerously as he roared in your face, “Did you think I wouldn’t see you trying to slink away? You helped him escape! You! Of the hundreds of us in the Spider-Society, you were the last one I ever imagined turning against me.”

“I haven’t turned against you, Miguel. You know I love you too much to ever do that.” With your face still pinned in his grasp, you tried your best to keep your expression calm and non-confrontational. You knew how he got when he was like this and it was better to not get him even more agitated. However, your voice remained firm and unwavering. “But right now, you’re letting your past cloud your judgment and you’re not thinking clearly. I was just trying to–”

“He’s trying to alter a second canon event! We still haven’t dealt with what he did in Mumbattan and you just let him get away to do it again!” He bared his sharp teeth at you as he growled deep in his throat. In all your years together as friends or as lovers, you had never once feared Miguel would hurt you…. until this moment. All reason seemed to have left him and all you saw when you looked at his face was fury and pain. There was no trace of the man you loved before you.

Trying to keep the quiver out of your voice, you calmly said, “You said it yourself. Miles is an anomaly. He was never supposed to be one of us so who’s to say he has to uphold the canon events? From what I can tell, the Peter Parker of that world already lost his captain before he died. So maybe Miles has a chance none of us ever got. Maybe he doesn’t have to bear this loss like the rest of us. Maybe he can change his fate.”

“‘Maybe! Maybe! Maybe’! You risked the lives of an entire universe on maybe!” Miguel’s grip on your face tightened and you mewled slightly as his claws broke skin. “Whether or not he was supposed to be Spider-Man, he is now. And that means he must follow the canon. If he was different than the rest of us, he wouldn’t have already lost his uncle.”

“Or may– possibly becoming the Prowler is what got that Aaron Davis killed, not because he was Miles’s uncle.” You tried to reach up to stroke Miguel’s cheek, to calm some of his anger, but your hands were still pinned to your side by his webs. “Miguel, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Please, let Miles try. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Slowly, Miguel’s fury faded from his face until there was nothing left but pain. Pain that you knew you had caused. He lowered you to the floor and loosened his grip on your face though he didn’t release you. Then, as he stared deeply into your eyes, he spoke in an agonized whisper. “I did trust you. I would have gone to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you. I gave you my heart even after I swore never to open myself up to anyone again but you turned your back on me the first chance you had.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you squirmed against the webs, desperate to touch him. To hold him and make him feel that your love for him never wavered. “You know that’s not true. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning. I’ve loved you and helped you build this Society so we could uphold the canon across hundreds of universes. But I just… I just couldn’t stand by this time and not at least give Miles a chance to try and save someone he loves. I’m sorry.”

For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”

His claws slashed through his webbing, freeing your limbs. But before you could move, Miguel grabbed your arm, ripped your portal watch from your wrist, and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. Still holding your arm, he tossed you across the room. You crashed into the floor and slid another dozen feet or so on your side. And just as you slowed to a stop, you glitched as this unfamiliar universe attacked your cells.

You felt like your body was simultaneously being compressed and stretched in a hundred directions at once. When the glitch ended, you let out a small whimper but the sound didn’t cull Miguel’s rage any. Even as you lay in a heap on the ground, he tossed a disk in your direction and suddenly a red transparent field surrounded you.

Unable to believe he was really doing this to you, you called out to him but he ignored your plea. Instead, he turned his back on you and growled, “Jess, Ben, come with me. And somebody catch Spot.”

Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”

“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”

Ben fell in behind him, but Jess hesitated, her hand reaching out towards you. But you shook your head. Miguel had judged you and once that happened, no one could change his mind. Jess had too much to lose by trying to help you and despite hating to see her leaving to track Miles down, you knew she was just as trapped now as you were. So, reluctantly, she turned and followed Miguel and Ben into the portal.

Now alone, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You didn’t regret helping Miles, but you never imagined this would be the consequence. Miguel had a right to feel betrayed yet the fact he would go this far– that he was alright with you slowly glitching out of existence – broke your heart. Miguel had never been a saint but you never imagined he could do this. Not to you. How could his love sour so quickly that he was willing to let you die rather than try to understand why you did what you did?

No. I won’t accept that.

Miguel was just not thinking clearly after everything that had happened today. Deep down, he still loved you. He had to. Just as you still loved him despite him leaving you to die in this cage. If you could only show him that you were right and Miles was different, then maybe Miguel could forgive you for going against him. And maybe there was still hope for the two of you. Or maybe he would still want you dead.

Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.

However, there was just something about this situation that made you believe in those maybes. For years you had protected the multiverse by Miguel’s side and you had never questioned his decisions or a canon event. But something in your gut– in your spider-sense –was telling you this time was different. That Miles really could break from the canon without the same consequences as the others. But you would never know unless you found a way out of this cage!

Suddenly, you remembered how Miles managed to escape the same sort of prison an hour before. You might not have his Venom Blast powers but maybe Miguel presented you with your own way to escape. Spreading your arms and legs out as far as you could, you pressed yourself against the force field so you covered as much area as you possibly could. Then you waited.

About four minutes later, it happened. You glitched again but this time, you were ready for it. Using all the strength you could muster, you fought against the glitch and kept yourself pressed against the field. As your body began to flicker and change, so did the force field. When things finally corrected themselves and you were left moaning on the floor, you opened your eyes to see what was once your cage had been transformed into a pile of random junk from across the multiverse.

Giving it a slight push, the pile collapsed and you walked out of the remains of your prison. You were free. Now, you just had to find a way off of Earth-928 and back into the multiverse to find Miles before Miguel did. And you thought you had an idea about where to start….

Thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and/or rebloging! I am planning a prequel to this fic showing how Miguel and Reader met and I may also do a sequel fic to this one. If you are interested, please let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Thanks!

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afictionalwhor3 · 5 months

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Mrs. Serensin

A/N: Back again from the dead lol. College is kicking my ass I cannot even lie. Also, I've been pissed at the lack of diversity in fandoms/fan fics until I realized I can literally change that lol so here's my take enjoy. One shot, I wrote wherever the wind took me.

Dad!Jake Serensin x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, established relationship, fluff (Jake and reader being domestic and in love), only minorly proofread.

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It wasn't the warm sun on your skin that woke you up. Or even the usual patter of feet and knocking at your door that pulled you abruptly from sleep. It was the feeling of soft lips on your skin. Feather light and if you didn't focus you might've missed them. You stirred softly looking over your shoulder as Jake looked back at you with those gorgeous green eyes you fell in love with so many years ago.

"Morning Mrs. Serensin" He says with that famous boyish grin on his face as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"Morning" You mumble wiping your eyes after you kiss him back. "What time is it? Where are the kids?" You asked him. In seemingly no rush Jake went back to his previous role applying warm kisses to the column on your throat and along your shoulder. As much as you wanted to enjoy the moment you couldn't help but anticipate the screaming of children.

"Relax... kids are still sleeping. It's pretty early. It's just me and you darling" He says and some of his Texas drawl slips out making you smile. You lay on your back to properly look at him your hands tracing over his exposed chest down to his defined stomach. His ability to keep up with his physique while parenting three kids always ceased to amaze you. Jake smirks down at you putting his hands on your hips and giving them a squeeze.

"So are you telling me Mr. Serensin that I have you all to myself for the unforseeable future?" You ask smiling at him as he leans in close to you.

"You do Mrs. Serensin. But I don't know for how long so I plan on making the most of it," He says pressing his lips to yours passionately as you wrap your legs around his waist. After your third child, you were scared that yours and Jake's sex life would die down, or maybe he wouldn't even find you attractive anymore. Boy, you couldn't be further from the truth. You could swear that after each kid Jake only began to worship you more.

"You're gorgeous. Always so pretty" Jake whispers to himself when he pulls away from your lip to kiss at your jaw. He then quickly gets rid of his old navy shirt you had on. Slipping a finger up your slit smirking as you whimper. "Always so wet for me mama. I love it." He says pressing his lips to yours again as he slides a finger into your pussy making you moan.

"Jake please. I need you so bad. No teasing please," You beg. The nagging feeling of getting caught lingering at the back of your brain and you don't know what you'd with yourself if this moment between you two was interrupted. Jake slides another finger into you curling them just right to make your eyes roll back as you grab his wrist.

"There you go baby. I got ya. Always gotta make sure you're ready for me." Jake says pressing kisses to your collarbone as he gently pulls his fingers out and takes off his boxers. He guides himself up to your slit teasing you briefly before slowly sliding himself inside your heat both of you letting out breaths of pleasure. "Fuck you're always so tight for me mama. Three kids and you're still tight as the first night we met" Jake breathes into your neck.

One of the many things you loved about sex with Jake was how he wasn't scared to be vocal. You loved all the filthy things he would tell you as he fucked you into oblivion. No matter how many times the two of you had sex it would never get old. And this time was no different as he began thrusting in and out of you, "Yes Jake. Right there baby" You moan your hands finding his back as your nails dig gently into his flesh.

"Pussy's always ready for me. Always ready to take me. Ain't that right baby?" Jake asks as you nod. Usually, he loves to take his time with you, always wanting to make you cum before he even thinks about pleasuring himself. Unfortuantely this morning he didn't have that luxury and there is no way he would pass up an opportunity to watch you lose yourself on his cock. He sits up putting one leg over his shoulder and after a couple of hard thrusts he watches your jaw go slack and your eyes roll back. "There we go mama. There's the spot I was looking for. Feels so good doesn't it baby?"

All you can give him is moan after moan as you spiral deeper and deeper into pleasure. Jake realizes you losing your volume control and presses his lips to yours. "So loud for me. Love when you vocalize how good I'm fucking you baby" He whispers against your lips.

"Jake you're fucking me too good. Don't stop baby and I'll cum. Gonna cum all over your cock" You moan locking eyes with him. Now it is Jake's turn to get lost in your big brown eyes. The same ones he saw everytime he looked at your children.

"Gonna make a mess on my cock baby? Go ahead. Cum for me, I got you" He instructs as he slips a hand in between your body and begins to toy with your clit. That is the final straw for you as you bite softly into his shoulder to control your moans of pleasure. The spasming of your orgasm around Jake's cock has him cumming only a few strokes after you "Fuck baby I'm stuffing your pussy Oh god!" He moans into your ear before relaxing against your body.

You both lay in post orgasmic haze for what feels like forever "We should probably get ourselves together sometime soon before we end up having the birds and the bees conversation a lot sooner than we planned," Jake says making you smile. You run your hands through his hair a few times always trying to maximize the alone time you two shared,

"I guess you have a point there" You say as he smiles looking at you and kissing you "You are the love of my life Mrs. Serensin" He says before slowly pulling out of you as you whimper at the loss of contact. He stands up getting a warm cloth to clean you up with before he uses it for himself. After he does so you stand up so you can start getting ready for the day. You walk over to your closet finding clothes to put on after your quick shower. As you do so you hear Jake whistle behind you making you look over your shoulder,

"Looking good has always Mrs. Serensin. Do you know that everyday we are together you get sexier?" Jake asks as you roll your eyes and go back to the task at your hand biting your lip to hide your smile. You grab a towel before looking at him again,

"You know you don't have to sweet talk me anymore? We're married you know I'll give it to you whenever you want. Also I have a name outside of Mrs. Serensin" You say rhetorically loving that he calls you that all the time and never stops trying to woo you like the days he asked for your number.

"You know better than anyone I love the chase. As long as I'm on earth I'll spend that time hitting on you. You're too hot not to. And if I wanted to call you by your name I wouldn't of married you." He says as you continue to hide your smile from him and walk towards the bathroom. Before he can even ask you say, "No Mr. Serensin you cannot join," you smile as you see him fake pout out of the corner of your eye.

"They have the little festival thing in the park we could take them to. Wyatt and Cam loved it last year with the face painting and the balloon animals." You say as you and Jake finish getting dressed for the day almost ready to wake the kids up. Jake walks over slapping your bum gently before wrapping his arms around you.

"Whenever you tell me to go Mrs. Serensin is where I'll be" He says as you roll your eyes. He buries his head in crevice of your neck enjoying the fresh smell of vanilla that is so uniquely you he can smell it wherever he goes.

"Well there's also-" You start before both you and Jake hear a loud crash from downstairs. Both looking scared you race out of your room and downstairs. Jake keeps you behind him the whole time as you walk into the kitchen and see your three children covered in some kind of mix and eggs. Both of your jaws hanging open.

"We wanted to surprise you and make you guys pancakes" Your oldest Wyatt says as you sigh taking a deep breath as you see Jake try to refrain himself from laughing. You hit him lightly in the arm as you get closer to your babies.

"That is so sweet of you guys but next time you can get one of us and we will help you. Just to make sure no one gets hurt." You say picking up your youngest, your little girl Julia as she smiles that big toothy grin at you. "Surprise!!" she says holding her arms out as you hold her at an arms length laughing softly.

"How about daddy helps you guys get cleaned up and dressed for the day while I clean this mess up. After that we will all get breakfast and if you're good go to the park." You say as they all clap in unison. Wyatt and Cam make a dash past Jake racing to the bathroom as you walk over to him putting Julia in his arms.

"Get to cleaning Daddy. There's a lot of work to do" You smile giving him a kiss as Julia cuddles into him leaving Jake stunned and just as dirty now. Yet he can't help but smile at you, then his little girl, and at the life he currently as. Despite the egg yolk on his shirt, and the mess that he can already hear happening in the upstairs bathroom, he swears he wouldn't change his life for anything.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin smut #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake serensin x black!reader #dad!jake seresin #hangman imagine

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