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daycourtofficial · 2 months

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Empty Bed Blues

Summary: based on this request - you and Azriel have a spat and he can’t sleep without you. So he takes things into his own hands.

Divider by cafekitsune

“Do we have to go to this stupid dinner?”

Azriel had nuzzled his face into your neck, attempting to keep you in his arms. You stood from the bath, reaching for a towel.

“Yes, we do.”

“But m’tired.”

You run your fingers through his wet hair, his sounds of contentment permeating the silence.

You two were staying in the House of Wind for the evening, anticipating debauchery. You were planning to drink to your heart’s content and you hated winnowing and flying when you were drunk. The last time you flew while extremely drunk, you made him stop so you could throw up in the bushes of a few Velaris storefronts. You sent copious gifts the next morning in apology, but you still felt incredibly bad about it.

“And whose fault is that?”

Azriel had been working like a dog all day, having left your home before the sun rose. His grip tightens on the tub, a pause before he says, “Rhys’s.”

You laugh, “you’re the one who left at the ass crack of dawn to go work when you knew we were going to see everyone tonight.”

He groans, tilting his head back against the porcelain. “Why can’t we stay here? We know exactly what’s going to happen. Cassian’s going to make a crude joke to you to get me riled up, Mor’s going to drink and talk about who she saw the past week, and Amren’s going to sit in the corner and make me uncomfortable.”

You move closer to him, looking at him incredulously, “Wow, do you even like your family?”

“No,” he replies, his lips in a pout. “But I like you.”

You laugh at his attempts to keep you here and his blatant lie about not liking his family. However, you’d been looking forward to this dinner all week and you wouldn’t let a pouty mate keep you from it.

“Baby, I love you, and I’d do anything for you,” his eyes light up at your praise of him, “except miss out on this dinner.”

He deflates, sighing. “I’ve been gone all week and you’d rather see my family?”

You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your agitation to a minimum. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing them all week - you’ve been off on a mission, and I’ve been in Summer all week for Rhys. I’m just excited to let my hair down.”

His jaw ticks, “I just wanted to rest tonight.”

You blow out a breath, “you’re the one who decided to work all day after being gone all week.”

You can feel his annoyance down the bond, and you push some of your own back at him. You two stare each other down, withering gazes trying to get the other to back down. You clutch your towel closer to yourself, walking away calling over your shoulder, “well then, you can get some rest up here, alone.”

You retreat down the stairs, having dinner with your family. You refused to see your mate after your argument this afternoon. You had been looking forward to seeing everyone all week, and yet it wasn’t the same with the seat next to you empty.

Nesta had walked past you as you had exited your room, so you’re sure she had heard your argument based on the look she gave you. You’re also sure she told Cassian, who spent the evening trying to keep you in good spirits.

You appreciated his efforts, and you loved your family, but it truly wasn’t the same without your mate next to you.

Upstairs Azriel huffed, turning once again in an attempt to get comfortable. Nothing felt right. The comforting weight of you was nowhere to be found, leaving him in a sleepless fit. He swears he can hear your laughter from downstairs where you’re talking with his family at a dinner he elected not to attend because he was being stubborn and just wanted his stubborn, beautiful mate to lay in bed with him.

He runs his hands down his face, remembering the years where he could sleep wherever necessary. His romanticized version of those years doesn’t last long, as he also remembers how little he slept, weeks where his time spent asleep tallied in the single digits.

Your presence has made it nearly impossible for him to sleep without you nearby, but it also makes him actually sleep. The once permanent purple and blue bags under his eyes have slowly disappeared thanks to you.

Your presence is a luxury he’s been afforded, and damn it all, he’s going to indulge. Azriel gets out of bed, not even bothering to put on a shirt. He moves with speed, determination moving his feet through the halls and down the stairs. He reaches the entrance to the living room, his family lounging across various sofas and couches. His eyes find yours immediately, your lips parting in surprise. You’re standing next to Cassian and Nesta, looking at something in Nesta’s hands.

He stalks over to you, not letting you get a word in before ducking down and lifting you over his shoulder.

“Hello?” You call out, hands gripping onto his hips to stabilize yourself. You can hear Cassian whistle while Nesta mumbles, “dumb brutish male,” after you. He carries you up the stairs, the sounds of your family’s snickering dying down the further you go.

He doesn’t speak as you wind down the hall, or as he opens the door, or as he sets you down on the bed. He’s silent as he lays back down, and you start to ask what this is all about when he reaches a hand out, wrapping around your bicep. He pulls you towards him, settling you on top of his chest.

He sighs contentedly, finally opening his eyes and looking at you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbles, and his eyes start drooping, his body finally able to relax.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile on your face as you ask, “and why’s that?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. “Needed you,” he breathes into your neck, nuzzling you with his nose. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“You’re spoiled,” you tell him, hands grazing over his cheeks.

He pretends to bite one of your fingers without opening his eyes. “I’m a male who knows what he wants.”

“Can I at least change into a nightgown?”

“If you can do it without getting out of my arms, yes.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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kombuuuu · 10 months

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HEYY!!! Can you maybe write a fic or small drabble where fem!reader wants hobie to hang upside down so they can ‘spider man kiss’.

(also i luv the way you write hobie :P)

Spider Kisses

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

“What’re you— oh!”

small thingyyyyy, added a little twist tho C:

—

“Hobie?” Your voice rang throughout the empty alleyway behind your apartment, light disappearing behind the building wall your lover was currently — decorating.

“Wh— Oh! [Name], babe, come look a’ this.”

You partner turned to you, currently hanging from a suspended pole connecting one building to another.

Webs wrapped around his ankles to keep him hanging upside-down. Left hand holding a green can of spray paint, and right holding a paint ridden cloth.

His shirt was riding up (down?) due to gravity, the small peak of skin covered in different paint streaks that matched the tones the wall was now bearing.

“what’re you doing up there?”

He shook the van again, spraying a little detail onto the mural, then wiping a line through the fresh paint to reveal the colour underneath.

“‘M paintin’, love.”

He turned to you, synthetic eyes wide and emoted.

“C’mere, come try.”

He shook the cloth in a ‘come hither’ motion, paint flecks landing on his shirt. You approached him happily, getting close to his mask-clad face.

“Don’ get too close t’ the fumes now, babe.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, turning back towards the art to get your first real look at it.

A low whistle came from behind you, “Nice view.”

“Shut it, bug.”

“Arachnid.”

“Whatever.”

You felt Hobie grab his web, releasing his ankles and dropping down by one arm. His feet hurting the ground with a small scuff.

Taking the first good look at his creation, you noticed how you were the centre of it. A dazzling smile with your features painted in a light you’d never known. He’d made you feel so beautiful.

The colours behind you complimented the shades of your hair and strokes of abstract making your features evermore admirable.

“Jesus, Hobie — this is gorgeous.”

“All you, babe.”

He crowded up behind you, letting his slender hands carter’s the skin along your waist and stomach. His muffled voice dropped low to your ear. “Like this, doll.” His right hand travelled up your arm, sliding over yours and disconnecting to wipe at the fresh paint.

His left hand stayed put against your abdomen, squeezing unconsciously. He handed you the cloth, watching your fingers wrap around the fabric and bringing his hand back to your upper arm, rubbing along your skin in a soothing matter.

“Now drag it along there, yeah? Right where it’s still wet.”

You snorted at the innuendo. Hobie scoffing at your childish thoughts and softly pinching your skin.

“Oh, grow up.”

You refocused, dragging your hand along the shade of purple and blue. Streaking them together and revealing the pink underneath.

“Good, you’re a natural at this point.”

You laughed lightly, turning your head towards his.

“It was one stroke, Hobes.”

He winked, a devilish smirk rising his smile lines. “All it takes wit’ you, ain’t it?”

“Oh my god, you’re crude.”

“Nah baby, ‘m honest ‘s all.”

You brought your hand back towards you looking up at the painting again. "Finishing touches."

You gave him a quick, curious "hmm?", before you felt the cloth leave your hands too fast for you to realise. The "thwip" of his webs alerting you of his methods — right as the sound registered in your head, he had shot another back onto the aforementioned pipe, and reached to swipe at the paint around your hair, melting it into you and making you stand out stark against the cohesive colours. "Looks good, dun' it babe?"

"Uhuh."

He spared you a glance, smiling under his mask at the distracted sound of your voice, when he caught you watching him, and not his painting — he could excuse it.

A thought had breached your head, one that had been popping up ever since you had gone to dimension 1806 with him.

—

"Hobie, I'm not a spider person! I can't leave!"

"But I made you a watch?" "

Yes— thank you, I love it. But also that's not the point."

"But the watch.."

"Fuck, fine. Whatever. Don't use that tone on me again."

"Say it's for science."

"Fuck science."

—

That day you had found something.. intriguing. A comic. With a rather interesting cover design. Spiderman — not yours — plastered on the front, upside down, with his mask folded up and kissing Mary Jane. It was probably the most romantic thing you'd ever seen. And now you had the chance.

"Baby."

Hobie stopped wiping the excess paint, giving you his full attention. "Yeah doll, what's 'e matter?"

"Can you— do the thing.. you were doing before?"

He gave you a quizzical look, eyes in his mask squinting. "Painting? I'm almost done, sweethear'. Now I just got'a wipe way the—,"

"No.. no, the uhh.. Thing."

"Babe, ya' gon' have ta' be a bit more specific."

"The— upside down thing."

He snorted. Still hanging from his left hand. "Wh— yeah? I can do it, but—,"

"Don't question my decisions, Hobes."

"God damn, sweethear', speak t' me like 'at more often."

You laughed just as he did, glee falling from your lips as you shifted closer to him. He twisted his body to raise his legs above himself, wrapping the webs around his ankles once more.

"Now what—"

You brought your hands up to his spandex covered cheeks, tracing the lines of his cheekbones under the soft skin of your fingers. Tracing your hands higher, you toyed with the lip of his mask. Exposing the skin of his neck and watching his Adams apple bob out of nerve. "Can I?"

"Whatever you want, Luv."

You rolled the mask just past his nose, hooking it over his bridge, surprising him. He opened his mouth to question why you hadn't taken the whole thing off, before your lips stopped him.

He melted into you, your hands stroking over his cheeks and chin.

It was awkward trying to find your position at first, but you both quickly adapted, his hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer to him. You smiled into the kiss and he followed, laughing about how this was the motive to your request.

Your lips disconnected and he grinned like a fool.

"Tha's why?"

"Oh, shut. It was romantic."

He chuckled again, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Never said otherwise, pretty thing."

—

phone still broken , just like my heart hastag KIILL ME BOW

that was sarcasm but YIPEEEE HOBIEEEE!!!!!

#hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie my beloved #spiderverse x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobart brown

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bambiesfics · 6 months

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⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

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love-bitesx · 11 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

#hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk #spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 days

Note

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.”

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown.

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better.

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her.

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug.

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted.

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum?

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise.

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.”

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear.

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?”

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits.

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.”

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.”

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.”

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.”

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment.

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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astrorafe · 2 months

Text

don’t make a sound ⭑ rafe cameron

warnings ; car sex, fingering, rafe being rafe, dirty talk.

18+ mdni

you were both en route to a charity event, one set up by rafes parents. rafe didn't tell you much about the event, only to dress nice, and that he didn’t want to go.

“im telling you baby, your mom just wants us to make an appearance, then you can go wasted with the guys,” were your exact words to help convince your blue eyed boyfriend.

he wasn't pleased that you forced him to go, but you definitely made up for it last night. “agree yo go with me to the event tomorrow, and I'll let you do whatever you want to me tonight.”

your words led to you being tied up, having 4 orgasms and as he would call it, ‘the best night of your life’

the man was a god in every aspect, making you feel things you'd never before felt. and as promised on the way to the event he sparks a conversation,

"do you think i can make you cum before we get there?" his signature smirk plastered against his lips. you quickly shushed him, nodding your head towards the gentleman driving the limo.

"the divider is up, the guy can't hear or see anything baby i promise" he said, hand trailing up your thigh, underneath your dress trying to convince you more.

"we only have like 4 minutes though," you commented with hesitation before fully submitting to your boyfriend, his smirk having you weak in the knees.

the pads of his fingers connect with your clit, starting off with slow, circular movements. his actions caused you to roll your eyes, biting your lip in hopes you don't make too much noise.

"no panties, huh? naughty girl" he raised his eyebrows and his smirk widened.

"i know you like it that way" you replied, receiving a satisfied nod from your boyfriend

"actually princess, i prefer you naked, but i doubt you'll agree to that right now" he muttered.

rafe started kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking on your sensitive skin. he slowly rubs your clit with one finger, fastening his pace, moans nearly escaping your lips.

he suddenly stopped his movements and sunk two fingers deep inside of you, causing you to bring your hand to cover your mouth.

"cmon baby, be a good girl. you know how much I love to hear you" rafe groaned in your ear.

you adjusted and placed your lips by his ear, allowing you to moan into his ear, only loud enough for him to hear.

"fuck rafe, it feels so good," you breathlessly moaned. “i love it when you touch me, makes me feel insane" you carried on.

he let out an appreciative moan, now using his thumb on your clit whilst using his fingers the exact way you love.

“good girl taking my fingers so well for me.” he lets out a groan at the way you shiver for him.

you felt the familiar feeling in your gut, tightening around his fingers.

"rafe, im gonna..." you started, sentence being taken over by a muffled moan. rafe absolutely loved the way you clenched around him, whether it be his cock or his fingers.

“atta girl, cum for me.” kissing your neck and fastening his pace, you clench around him one last time. “good girl, staying quiet for me.” your heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard between the two of you.

"just in time" he said, kissing the side of your head whilst pulling his fingers out of you. you hissed at the sensitive feeling, opening your eyes to see you were pulling into the parking lot of the club.

you straightened your dress as best as you could, and lazily combed your fingers through your hair, wiping away any smudged make up from under your eyes where you'd clenched them shut not 2 minutes ago.

"how do I look?" you asked rafe, turning your body to face him.

"like you deserve more than my fingers" he chuckled. you playfully smacked his arm at the crude comment, only after letting out a small laugh.

"you’re disgusting" you joked.

"say that again, and I'll show you how disgusting I am in the bathroom" he said, raising his eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“i don’t think i have to say anything, we both know we'll be in the bathroom soon enough" you smiled.

the door opened and you both got out, rafe holding onto your hand to help you.

"you ready?" you asked him

"you’re here baby, im always ready"

⋆ ★ k speaks ⋆ ★

first work 😭, lowkey hate it and will def be going back to edit but for nowww here it is ! also reqs are open for anyone tbhhh i get bored lol so :)

#k’s works ✮⋆˙#rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #outer banks

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getodrools · 1 month

Note

angry sex with nanami but he’s usually always a sweetheart to you…. do you see my vision 🌚

ᯓ★ warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, veryy angry desk sex, he's veryy passive-aggressive, slight bondage ( his tie ), gag ( readers panties sob ), spanking, orgasm denial, edging-ish, cum shot.

NANAMI IS TOO BUSY for this attitude. Of course, reminding you that too—Well, twice too many now, “It's such an inconvenience when you start this, sweetheart.” Gentle voice soothing to ears, but the hard press of his cockhead nudging an unfathomable wreck into your pussy aches.

Nanami sighs… a mix with the adrenaline of pumping an angry hard-on into gummy walls and crude annoyance. He had a growing mean boner, the kind that was pent up from frustration and was filled with the need to ooze it out into you – throbbing to show you why giving him his time to work is very important!

Yet, you lived to act up—to be a brat, and scoot his papers away for his attention. Tsk tsk, he'd remind you how those very papers is what gets you spoiled if he turns them in… But the way you kept weeping and groaning, even flicking his items off his desk, tugging at his pant leg, and closing his laptop right in the middle of an email! Toiled his very last nerve with you.

“Don't you start.” Your wanton moans turned into whines, well from what he could hear through the soiled panties stuffed between your lips, “Weren’t you just bothering me for this? So take it.” Oh but you were trying!

It's just that having your ass—now littered in clear marks of his fingerprints—hanging off the very edge of his desk – you so toyed with, was growing an everlong pit in your tummy… Knees folded and pressing into cold marble, chest mushed too, even with wrists wrapped in a knot; folded into his mottled tie behind your back, you couldn't cease his onslaught for a breather.

The twist in limbs made ease for Nanami to fuck right up into you. Straining your arms back further as he’d snatch up the knot to force your body with his, and at each drag of his strong hips, the log of meat would fill your pussy right out.

Dammnit! This time was his working time!

When the clock ticked a ringing minute, it'd remind him of all the paperwork he should be filling out right now! But having your spoiled self balled up and cluttering his desk instead of work, he couldn't help but prowl even harder.

Shaking his head like a disappointed dad, “Maybe if you didn't always bother me, I might get work done on time,” He swears he's growing greys, “And then maybe, we'd have more time together, and this wouldn't have—” A clammy palm strikes a fierce bolt down the crack of your ass, “To happen.” And another… Nanami is a very patient man, especially when it comes to you, but today was a damn busy day!

Muffling out pleas, your eyes flutter at the meddling thwacks scratching down bare skin.

He was furious. Upset, annoyed, all of the above. And when tightend balls swung into your puffy hood, eliciting wet claps had your sappy entrance weeping. The deep strokes made all of you shiver, and vile swats to your backside was expressing it all very vividly… Let alone from the obvious and the mean clamor in his voice each time he'd grunt out exactly why you were pissing him off…

Your head bobbed like a damn bobblehead, like the very one on his desk you were just poking at—but dangling off the edge, the design of the carpet below you began to whirl and swirl around. Mind boggling at the tight clench your pussy ceases with as Nanami barrels into your core. You were on the brink of being a broken damn— a flood ready to just spurt out, but the selfish man unplugs your little hole.

“Nu-uh.” Worming himself out – almost hesitantly, but he stuck to the lesson you needed… sticky, translucent webs glob around his thick base as driplets trickle-down your knobbly thighs; shaking at how close you've got to cloud nine and beyond…

Heaving through sappy fabric mashed between teeth, you slump down, whining. Kicking your toes Nanami chuckles at your little shimmy.

“Oh? You don't like it when you can't get something done?” The irony in his voice irked your gears right off!

With sobs falling pliant to deaf ears, he was too busy mashing himself between your ridden and swollen doughy globes to finish himself off. Slipping with your muck and sliding between torn cheeks, he rushes down against your body; nth inches throbbing in bitterness and grinding against your perk holes ‘till hot cum shot out his rubbery tip. Feeling his messy high splatter a thick pool down the curvature of your back, whining to feel yours, but as shot after shot trickled against your skin, reality settled.

Expecting forehead kisses and apologies to his roughness, maybe even a warm bath… but Nanami tucked himself back into his pants, pulled his chair up, and turned his computer back on.

… Long, dreading hours of being trapped in that burly position on the corner of his desk was rotten of him! – He went right back to work! Leaving you folded with cum drying out into your skin as your pussy oozed out in the bare open, still hanging right off the uncomfortable ledge of his desk…

Nanami acted like you weren't even there. Those taps on his computer and soft hums were antagonizing as you were wriggled limp and helplessly right next to him.

That snobby, spoiled little attitude was surely fixed…

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: MORE NANAMI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#ᝰ kento nanami!#nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

Text

Anything V (König x Reader)

The 5th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Like the characters?

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: Ya’ll are in for a treat with this series. I just figured out the plot like 10 minutes ago hahaha

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension

Warning: Graphic Language

You glared at the woman before you, fury simmering beneath your skin. You felt like you were on fire, you felt like you could commit heinous crimes- you knew that you could kill them.

“I understand that you may feel like this isn’t needed,” the stupid fuck soothed. “But therapy is a proven solution. I can help get you back up and running.”

Therapy.

Your fingers dug into the armrests.

“They told me this was training.” You were chewing on the words, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Deep down you’d known that this was coming, you’d declined ‘help’ after the initial incident but now there was no hiding the darkness that plagued your mind. Everyone had seen it.

Everyone.

“This is training,” the doctor smiled. “Training of the mind.”

You visibly cringed. They’d made sure to give you the most disarming person they could find. Kind eyes, an easy smile and a relaxed posture. They looked vulnerable. If the doctor was the most fragile in the room, then it would encourage you to step out and spill your trauma with tears and snot bubbles. Not you.

You sneered, leaning forward to rest your arms on your knees. “Being chosen to be my therapist is a shit go, Doc.”

“Actually,” the corner of their lips curled upward. “This’ll piss you off more but I’m doing a friend a favour.”

You blinked, surprise snatching the next crude words from your tongue. The doctor leaned back into their chair, clicking the pen a couple of times as if emphasising a point. As you stared at them, they stared back, and you suddenly realised that maybe they weren’t as vulnerable as they seemed.

“Laswell?” You queried.

The therapist snorted softly. “Price.”

Your spine straightened, a deep sense of anger twisting violently within your chest.

Price.

“Ooh,” the doctor tutted softly, leaning forward in their seat. “Didn’t like that one, did you?”

You sneered at them, your eyes narrowed and your walls higher than ever. What did they know about what you liked and disliked? What did they know of your relationship with Price?

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“If you had it your way, you wouldn’t talk at all,” the doctor frowned.

“Then take the fucking hint.”

Their gaze trailed over your body, taking in the way you leaned away from the conversation. You were an open book and no matter how aggressive the mask you wore was- you were readable. With a huff, the therapist tossed their notebook over their shoulder lazily. It clattered onto the bench behind them, scattering the miscellaneous items in its path.

“Alright, Birdy. Let’s go off the record then,” they gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “You’re shitty with Price.”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about him-”

“You feel like he’s betrayed you.”

You blinked, fingers trembling even though they were curled into fists. The overarching thought that had been plaguing you for weeks was picked apart by some random fucking doctor. The words were out, you weren’t the one that had said them but they were in the air anyway. It felt good to hear them aloud rather than the screaming thought over and over in the recesses of your mind.

“Yes.” The confirmation was bitter on your tongue. You waited for the doctor to shut you down, you waited for them to monologue about how your feelings were childish and unprofessional. They were providing you this service as a favour to the Captain, you could only assume that they were friends.

Instead, the therapist simply nodded. “I would too, Birdy.”

You loosed a breath that you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“What was your name again, Doc?” You rasped, eyes narrowing. They shifted in their seat, taken off guard by the sudden change in subject but willing to share nonetheless.

The doctor shot you a smile- genuine this time.

“They call me Saint.”

____

While you didn’t appreciate being ambushed with it, therapy hadn’t been as bad as you’d imagined. Your fingers clenched and unclenched in an attempt to release some tension as you walked.

Every day, you were required to present to the doctors office for a psych appointment.

Every day, Saint had picked your thoughts apart bit by bit.

Although you hadn’t intended to talk, you realized quickly that Saint didn’t just look disarming- they were disarming. There was no judgement as you spoke, not when you told them about your murderous nightmares and not when you told them that you’d wanted to beat down the new sniper.

They only nodded, explaining that it- surprisingly- was natural to feel like that after what you’d experienced.

You felt validated.

Less like a liability and more like a recovering victim.

Your thoughts stuttered to a halt as you laid eyes on the kitchen, the light spilling from the open doorway and out into the hall. You raised a brow at the sight, knowing that only one person would really be awake at this time of night.

Ghost.

The flutter in your chest caught you off guard, the thought of seeing Simon had you excited. It’d been a while since you’d both last spoken, a hand on the shoulder as he muttered a “see you soon,” and a “be safe.” All that, right before he boarded a plane with Sunshine in tow.

“Yeah,” the newest sniper had winked at you with a curved smile. “See you real soon, gorgeous.”

You hated them, you were sure of it. They were nauseatingly glib, each word rolling off their silver tongue with all the ease but no truth. You couldn’t believe anything they said, you’d be stupid if you did.

As you approached the kitchen slowly, you heard hushed voices. They were arguing- aggressive and quickly spoken.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Sunshine snapped, their words breathless. “For the rest of our time here, this is how you want it to be?”

From what you’d seen, the new sniper had a reputation for being self-posessed and controlled. They wanted to watch you unravel beneath their sentences, but in order for them to do that they’d have to be unphased by whatever’s thrown at them.

Right now, there was no sign of that person.

“What “I want it to be” is you doing your fucking job and me doing mine." The hostility in Simon's tone had you taken aback. You’d never heard him so aggressive towards a teammate and for a split moment, you felt bad for Sunshine.

“It was!” The sniper shouted, their exhaustion and frustration painstakingly clear.

“You were reckless.”

“I was saving you!”

“I don’t need you to save me!” Ghost finally snapped. The sound of something clattering followed by Sunshine’s sharp breath had you tense. “I don’t need anything from you.”

There was a soft touch against your shoulder and your heart stuttered in your chest. Fear electrified your body as you spun around. A hand pressed down firmly against your lips, suffocating the scream rising from your throat.

König’s eyes were narrowed, his head ducked so that he could meet your gaze head on. The look he gave you was accusatory and shame quickly flooded your cheeks. Your fingers came to rest shakily against his wrist, pushing weakly against his hold.

His brows pulled into a frown.

“Are you asking me to just let you fucking die?” Sunshine rasped, their seething voice reminding you of where you were. König’s eyes drifted from yours to over your shoulder aimlessly as he listened to their conversation.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ghost drawled. You could hear him struggling for control, the way he drew each breath like it was painful.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” The sniper exclaimed. “If it was Birdy instead of me today you wouldn’t have an issue with it-”

“But you’re not Birdy,” Ghost snapped, “are you?”

Silence flooded the space between you all.

You felt ashamed of yourself. You were somewhere you shouldn’t have been, you were listening to a conversation that you were never intended to hear. This was something personal, the hatred and electricity between Sunshine and Ghost forbidden for your understanding.

König must have come to the same conclusion. The man shot you a hard stare, his hands falling from your lips to grip your shoulders. He guided you backward quietly, trying to provide an escape that wouldn’t alert them to your presence.

“No, Sir,” Sunshine’s voice was faint now as you pulled away from the two. “I’m not Birdy.”

You knew then that something had changed. It was in their voice, it was in the air, it was in the venom of their words- it was a suffocating emotion that you knew too well.

They were hurt.

But, hurt breeds bitterness and there was nothing but hatred in Sunshine’s final words.

I’m not Birdy.

König sucked in a breath and you knew that he’d heard it as well. When he finally managed to pull you both through the doors of your dormitory unscathed, he let you go. There was no gentleness in his expression this time when he appraised you.

“What were you thinking?” He growled, running rough fingers through his hair. “That was wrong.”

“I know,” you whispered, shaken.

“You shouldn’t have been there,” König continued with a large step away from your quivering body. He was riled up and his anger stimulated your own. Who was he to lecture you?

“You shouldn’t have been there either,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

König shot you a stern look. “I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t find you eavesdropping, naseweis.”

You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel. While you weren’t falling apart at the sight of him anymore, it didn’t mean that you wanted to be around him. You still wanted nothing to do with König, no interaction, no contact- nothing.

“I don’t need you, of all people, lecturing me on being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” you threw over your shoulder as you walked. There was a huff from the man behind you, then the fall of his footsteps following in suit.

“Doesn’t the incident make me an expert on that?” König questioned from beside you, keeping pace as though it were a leisurely stroll. You glared up at him, forcing the growing rage clawing at your chest to stay caged.

“You think it’s funny?” You hissed. “Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not!” König’s voice hardened. You both rounded the corner towards your room, it felt like the quicker you moved the easier it was for him to keep up. Another infuriating feature that the Austrian possessed, you’d add it to the already mile-long list.

“Then why can’t you just leave me alone?” You spun on your heel, facing the beast head on. “It’s like you’re everywhere, König. I can’t escape you, I enter a room and you’re there. I turn a corner, you’re there. I go to sleep and there you fucking are.”

König raised a brow, leaning his shoulder against the frame beside him. “I’m not stalking you, Birdy. If that’s what you’re trying to imply.”

“Is that why you’re standing in my bedroom doorway?”

The man’s spine straightened as he took up his own weight, emerald gaze pinning you to your place. It was as though he were surprised, as though he was just now realising that he had been following you. Your chest was heaving as you glared up at him. You wanted him to deny it, to tell you that you were imagining it all- you wanted to be angry.

“You’re a worrying person,” König finally said. The words almost sounded like an admission, although of what you were unsure. You jaw tightened as you retreated another step back into the safety of your room.

“No,” you corrected, “you’re a worrying person.”

König sighed, letting the silence fall in between you for a beat. There was conflict across his expression before finally his eyes narrowed. He stepped into the room.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“Do you think I want to hurt you?”

There it was.

It was the question that plagued you as you lay in bed every night, staring at your bedroom door. Or lack thereof, you should say. There was nothing on the hinges, not since König had kicked it down.

He’d thought you were in danger. You lay before him, unconscious and dreaming. He could have done anything, he could have finished the job.

But he didn’t.

König’s head tilted as he observed you, watching you struggle for an answer. His fingers lightly brushed against your forearm and you froze, eyes wide as you stared up at him. He was so tall, dominating every space he entered. He was a giant amongst men, a god.

“Do you think I want to hurt you, Birdy?” König said again. He didn’t lean down, didn’t drop down to your height this time. He wanted your answer, he wanted you to look at him and take him as he was- he wanted the truth.

“No,” you whispered.

The truth.

Your body trembled as though the room had dropped to subzero temperatures but your skin was on fire. Heat bloomed across your chest, racing the length of your spine, neck and cheeks.

König’s eyes softened and he swayed backward lazily, as though he were drunk fighting for his balance. Neither of you said anything for a long moment. He didn’t ask why you were still afraid, he knew that was an unfair question. He never expected you to be comfortable with his presence.

But the shift between you both was tangible.

“Am I right?” The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, desperate and vulnerable. An offering, an olive branch an extension of trust.

Something washed over the man before you, something you’d never seen before. His gaze was ferocious, jade fire burning beneath those lashes as it scorched your skin. Determination tightened his jaw and his thumb brushed across the skin of your arm like a promise.

An unspoken response.

Yes.

Your breath left your chest as you took another step away, suffocating in his presence. König inhaled heavily, his hands falling back to rest at his sides.

“I still-” You began, twisting your fingers anxiously.

“I know.”

You still hadn’t forgiven him.

There was a long way to go, but now the path had changed. Rather than there being a straight road, shrouded in hatred, there was a fork. A split in the path that required a decision, one that you weren’t quite ready to make yet.

König cleared his throat, softening his stance with conscious effort. It was as if he remembered that he was meant to be disarming. Watching the huge man try to shrink himself for your comfort was surreal, nothing like what you’d imagined when you’d first laid eyes on him after your recovery.

Ghost had never made himself smaller for you when you came out of hospital. He was slower, gentler, as though dealing with a frightened animal- but he never pretended to be something that he was not.

“Do you think they heard us?” You changed the topic as your mind fell back to Ghost and Sunshine. “How would we explain that?”

König blinked, clearly glad for the break in intensity. He shifted backward, moving to make his escape as your interaction came to a close. For once, he was the one running from you.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” he muttered, an ironic smile playing at his lips. “They won’t have a hard time believing that given our history.”

The man offered you a nod, fingers tapping against the door with finality- his own farewell. You were glad that he hadn’t said ‘goodnight’, that he hadn’t bothered with niceties. You were not friends. Not allies.

You weren’t sure what you were.

When he disappeared around the door, his footsteps retreating down the hall, you finally let yourself relax. Jitters skittered across your body, the remnants of electricity from your confrontation buzzing beneath your skin.

Wrong place, wrong time.

The words struck a chord of discomfort within you.

They followed you through your night routine, plaguing you in the shower, lingering as you made a cup of tea, whispering sickness as you laid in bed. They made you nauseous, they made you dizzy, they were disconcerting.

Wrong place, wrong time.

The whole accident had been such a tragic coincidence, a monumental mistake. Almost impossible in an environment where communication is key, everything working in perfect tandem to ensure your demise.

Throughout the length of your military career, you’d always been taught to never take anything as chance. If a bush rustled beside you, there was a possibility that it was an animal- but also that it could be an enemy. If there was a light beneath a door, it could have been left on or there was someone waiting for you on the other side. You were taught not to trust coincidence.

The failure of comms, the false intel of a sniper on a roof, the unexpected of KorTac, the largest soldier of their team being sent to find you- all of it was a perfectly timed but tragic coincidence.

You tossed in your bed, trying to drown the thoughts from your crumbling mind. It seems you didn’t need a nightmare tonight to bring on terror. Your resolve began to slip, the sudden sense of dread gripping you by the throat.

Wrong place, wrong time.

You wanted to rake the thoughts from your brain with your bare fingers. You wanted to rip out the connection you’d made and go to sleep in bliss ignorance.

Wrong place, wrong time.

The way König had brought it up, the way he’d said it, maybe he was feeling it too. Maybe you weren’t as insane as you felt. Maybe your thoughts weren’t as unreliable as they seemed. You clenched your jaw, nails digging into the skin of your palm hoping that the pain would pull you back from the edge you teetered on.

Wrong place, wrong time.

Wrong for both you and König … but, as you lay staring at your missing door, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it was all just right for somebody else.

#könig cod #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader

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nouearth · 8 months

Text

an internship at wayne interprises. (part ii)

bruce wayne x male reader headcanons

part i.

warnings: smut, age gap, bottom reader, breeding, virgin!reader, top!bruce, established relationship, lowkey kind of fluffy, bruce is falling in love.

a/n: aaaand it's finally here! i hope you all enjoy the long awaited part two! i was watching american psycho recently and bruh, i forgot how hot he looked in it. like. i want to run my tongue all over him.

—as intimidating as bruce was, he never found the courage, or time really, to isolate you from your responsibilities.

—was it cowardliness that he was faced with? or was it that returning feeling that churned in his stomach, swelled in his chest, until it made him rethink the thoughts he’s had of you?

—guilt. he never felt it when he was jerking off to your pictures, which have become a daily routine now.

—but it returned in powerful marches, ached at the center of his heart, ridiculing him for thinking about his employee in such a crude, exploitive way.

—he always felt it when he saw you first thing in the morning, working quietly, mindlessly as your body had begun to become used to the caffeine.

—like wind chimes, you moved around people - around the wind - not with them, as you made your way to the break room.

—three packets of sugar and two spoons of creamer normally kept you awake, but the frozen pocket pizza in the toaster oven was the real source of your energy.

—bruce winced as he silently watched you from afar. you yawned, rubbed your eyes as the heat from the toaster oven warmed the surrounding area.

—jesus, no wonder you’re always so tired. look at the shit you’re eating.

—the march of soldiers, rioting against guilt, roared, and he was reminded of his privilege immediately after. a butler that had been providing him three nutritious meals a day since birth, and a garden of wealth that allowed him to afford a home gym with the best equipment; it was all handed to him and while he did his best to give back to the city, it was never enough to pacify the war zone of his chest. he was a person, a wealthy person, but a person nonetheless.

—you were a person.

—though ironically enough, he came to the the image of you hungrily licking the grease off your fingers when you were finished with breakfast later that night.

—there was always something new about you that he would fixate on when his hand met his cock, stroking it with a glorious amount of lube until it dried.

—though he never fretted, because your lips, your face, your nose - everything about you - milked him until the fresh stock of cum had become the only slime that layered his softening erection.

—like bruce’s nights, you’ve begun infiltrating the routine of his mornings now.

—or rather, bruce began infiltrating yours after he visited you in the break room for the first time.

—good morning, mister wayne…

—oh, new intern, right? your name was…?

—he always feigned his disinterest because he liked hearing your name come out of your handsome mouth.

—(m/n), sir…

—it sounded beautiful. the softness of your voice kindled a tenderness in bruce and it could’ve cradled him to sleep had the coffee from the break room not been so disgusting and cheap.

—the third time, he memorized the pattern you spoke in. your voice always trailed off at the end of a sentence as if it had been stolen by a criminal.

—it’s (m/n), sir…

—he wished he could be that somebody.

—the fifth time, he’d gotten used to the watery aftertaste of the coffee.

—wait, don’t tell me. your name rhymes with…

—and when you laughed because bruce was completely off by a mile, he saw a glimpse of your soul that had been sheltered by intimidation and anxiety.

—he learned he wanted to become a part of your life when he took you out for lunch.

—long overdue, but i usually take my interns out for lunch.

—bruce usually didn’t.

—oh—mister wayne, i don’t think that’s necessary… i already packed lunch.

—great! you don’t have to pack for tomorrow then.

—wait, but i haven’t set up the meeting with—

—i’ll get someone on it—already made reservations, c’mon.

—he’d learned so much about you that day, then the following, and the next; your upbringing, your hopes and dreams, your downfalls, it felt like he was walking on water with the way you willingly opened more of yourself every consecutive day.

—he could listen to you talk for hours, become poisoned by it if your voice was liquid, and bruce accepted that risk when he made another routine to invite you for lunch.

—previous nights were as followed: he stroked his cock to you, breathing heavily into the memory of your cologne, the wrinkles of your shirt, the curl of your lips when he made a joke.

—since he’d gotten to know you as more than a stained selfie, more than the meek statue that stood in the corner; instead of feeding himself with the thoughts of you that derived from pure lust, the reality of his nights had shifted.

—he stroked himself, that never changed. but he closed his eyes, breathing until he could see the ghost of you by his side.

—your shared bodies tensed into one another as his body curved forward into the arc of your back when he pushed in for the first time. you reached back to hold his thigh, pausing his thrusts because you needed to adjust, because you wanted to feel all of him in complete comfort.

—it was intimacy.

—it only melted - your body - when bruce kissed the shell of your ear, telling you that he’ll continue once you were ready. you let him in, sprouted for him like a bud in spring, and felt all of him swell larger inside of you with a whimper.

—it was vulnerability.

—he made sure you were touched, palming your erection as he rocked his own into your bud. from the nape of your neck to the hill of your back, he blessed you in the wet of his mouth, battling the sweat that had gathered on your body to see who would claim the vacancy of your body.

—he made sure to make you feel safe, drowning you in affection with his low voice, with the bridge that had constructed between your soul and his as he thrusted deeper, connected into you when he pressed into a spot that had the heavy air memorize every letter of bruce’s name.

—and finally crossed when he filled you with all of his endearment towards you, heavy and thick in combative sequence. he never pulled away in fret of losing the sentiment—in fret of losing you.

—it was love.

—from then on, bruce was devoted to melt the frost that had shielded you, just as you had melted his.

—because he was going to protect you now.

—the guilt that had been egging the shelter of his heart wilted in the pit of his stomach when he kissed you for the first time.

—and then completely died when you kissed him back.

—your arms were around his neck, and his were around your waist. you and bruce slow danced to the tune of his favorite song, in the middle of his living room, and so did your lips when he leaned in again.

—it never progressed further than that, despite the ache in bruce’s pants yelling at him to. he wanted to savor every moment with you, in case he happened to chase you away like he did with the others.

—you were special, and bruce held you like the rarest gem on earth for the first time that night.

—again, when he visited you in mornings to drive you to work.

—again, on nights where you were too tired to drive back to your apartment.

—again, after morning meetings were over and every businessmen and women left the vicinity upon the announcement of food catering a few floors down.

—and then again, when bruce’s thoughts had become a reality.

—b-bruce, ngh…

—you reached back to his thigh like in his thoughts, carefully maneuvering and pacing his thrusts into you. your breath stained deep into the cover of his pillow when bruce applied his weight into you, fitting his broad body to the dip of your back.

—i got you, hm? —nice and slow…

—his voice tickled your nape, soothing it with chaste kisses when your muscles tensed, and you breathed harder into the pillow when you let his thigh go, freeing him to do as he pleased. the warmth of your breath fogged your skin as his girth opened you to a profound feeling you’ve been too intimidated to discover

—faster, please…

—he was humored, not because you were embarrassing like the flush of your skin thought, but because you were still the same person he’d met months ago, appeased by it. you were calmed by an assurance, a kiss to your shoulder then your lips, yet your body only continued to bloom with roses.

—you’re still so polite even when we’ve done so many things together…

—bruce pressed deeper into you, panting in your ear as he delivered on your timid demands. he knew you now—read you like a book. you were too afraid to ask for anything despite becoming so vulnerable with each other, and he made sure that you were safe with him.

—your requests were silent sans the moans that have escaped, but he heard every single one of them. his hips drove into you harder for a few rhythms, then excruciating slower to coerce a plea out of you—to pull your beautiful moans along with desperation.

—he wanted to hear you, pulling himself completely out of your bud.

—f-fuuuuck, bruce! please—i need you, please.

—more, he needed to hear you want him as much as he’d been wanting you. his arms wrapped around your waist, and his fingers curled over your cock. it provided a friction, a hole for you to press into as his fist was sandwiched between your body and the bed, and you took the opportunity to desperately thrust into it.

—secretly, you’d hope to thrust yourself back onto his cock.

—but again, he knew you; silently observant and logical, and he raised his hips back, avoiding the desperate grinds of your bottom.

—how badly do you need me, hm? —how bad do you want me?

—bruce needed to hear it, to compel a truth to his prophecy. his hand unwrapped around you and you were left desperately grinding into the soft fabric of his sheets with a whine. they were music to his ears, and the drips of his cock dribbled over the curve of your bottom as if they were notes to a stave, to the sound of your torment.

—i-i need you, please…

—he exhaled.

—so bad.

—he gulped.

—so fucking bad…

—he throbbed.

—mister wayne… —please…

—bruce’s two worlds had collided: his previous thoughts of you rocketed into the current with a cloudy explosion, and he succumbed. you looked back at him with glassy orbs, sweat running down the side of your face, and bruce was overwhelmed by the beauty our deepest desires. how quickly it could destroy the barrier that we’ve built, how quickly he could destroy yours and unfurl your vulnerabilities when he finally drove himself back in one long and smooth thrust.

—f-fuuuuck...

—it was continuous. you wouldn’t admit it, but he knew you preferred being filled like this. he notified the curl of your fingers, clutching at whatever you could to fulfill the aching need to grasp onto something.

—god—

—hard when bruce came down, but slow and affectionate when he pulled out. you felt every thick inch sliding in and out of you. at times, you would purposely tighten in fear of losing bruce, but his thrusts reminded you that you wouldn’t.

—bruce reminded you again when his lips suckled on your shoulder.

—i’m close, (m/n)…

—when his hand stroked your aching cock.

—m-me too…

—and when bruce pushed all of his sweaty weight onto you with one hard thrust.

—shit, shit—

—the boiling feeling in his stomach unfurled inside of you to release his devotion in heavy, white loads. they filled you with heat, spreading thick within you as bruce slowly rocked himself weakly, squeezing every ounce of his love into you until you could feel it yourself.

—bruce—

—your eyes rolled back and you could feel the thick of his cum dripping out of you and down your legs the more he plunged into your hole, and it didn’t take very long for you to come undone yourself. the seam of your mouth kept your moans contained as you blasted bruce’s fist and the sheets with your affection, and it wasn’t until his hand came down to pump you that you exhaled a staggered, breathless groan. the drips came out heavy, sticky, and you rocked into bruce’s fist until they spread themselves thin onto your pelvis, over your cock, and stained deep into the sheets.

—as you both lay breathless, bruce remained on top, puzzled into you as he found comfort in your muscles loosening like the flaccid of your length. he continued playing with your soft flesh, squeezing and spreading the layer of seed that covered his hand, and chuckled when you silently squirmed.

—not away from him like he’d thought, but back into him.

—because he was your guardian now.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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randomperson3736 · 10 months

Text

Favouritism- Batman: Wayne family adventures

Paring(s): Batfam x child! Reader, Bruce Wayne x daughter! Reader

Warning(s): none

Genre: fluff, kinda funny

Word bank: Y/N- your name

Notes: I think I may start a mini batfam x child reader series 🤔

It was an average day for the batfamily. Bruce was sitting om his brown chair in the living roomreading the newspaper. He saw Dick come in with a large box. Bruce looked up from his newspaper, "Hey, Dick. What's with the box?"

Dick smiled and turned to Bruce. "There was this huge sale of justice league memorabilia yesterday. So I picked up stuff for everyone!"

"That was nice of you"

"It was no big deal" Dick waved goodbye and headed out of the living room. "I'll catch you later B!" As he turned around, Bruce saw the superman logo on the back of his blue hoodie. Bruce looked back at his newspaper, "Superman. Figures"

As dick turned the corner, he saw Y/N pass by with a children's book in her arms. "Morning Mini B!"

"Morning Dickie"

Y/N looked up curiously at the box in his arms. "Dickie what's with the box?" She asked. Dick kneeled down to Y/N'S height and placed the box down so she could she inside. "A bunch of justice league memorabilia"

"Memoa?"

"Memorabilia! It's a bunch of cool stuff dedicated ro the justice league. Check it out" he put his hand in the box and pulled out an object. "See, this one is the flash!" It was a bright red boomerang with the flahs logo on it.

"Here. I'll let you take first pick" Y/N looked down into the box and moved her arms around. "I'll take this one" She pulled out a doll and rubbed her finger over its white eyes. Dick let out a annoyed huff. "Are you okay Dickie?"

"Yea, I'm fine. I'm gonna give the rest ro the others, bye baby bird!" He made a peace sign with his free hand as he picked up the box with his other.

"Bye"

~timeskip~

Jason headed up ro the Manor and passed by Y/N in the living room. She was laying on the floor with a white pillow under her elbows (courtesy of Alferd) drawing on a sheet of paper with her coloured pencils. "Hey baby sis, got this for you!" He put a wonder women crown on her head. It was too big for her, so it fell down onto her face, covering her eyes.

She let out a giggle. "Jay Jay I can't see!" She took the crown off and put it in front of her. Jason crouched down next to Y/N. "What'cha got there?"

"I'm colouring"

Jason looked down at the drawing, his finger places under his chin, as if he was inspecting it. It was crude drawing of a man standing in a garden holding hands with a little girl. "Nice. Very nice" he pointed at the person in her drawing. "You know I have a white streaked in my hair right?"

"I know. I'm drawing daddy"

Jason slumped backwards and pouted. He then turned his attention towards the object Y/N picked from Dick's box. "I thought I was her favourite" he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"It's nothing. So how about you squeeze me in there?" He grabbed a red coloured pencil and pretend to draw on the paper.

Y/N started pushing him away and giggled "Jay, I'll draw you later"

~timeskip~

The next day, Bruce walked down to the batcave holding case flies. "Trust me Duke. The tech stuff is just important as the punching stuff when it comes to being a vigilante" Bruce looked over at Barbara and Duke, who were conversing. "Besides, I can do things as Oracle that I could never as batgirl"

Bruce looked down at Duke's new sneakers. They were red with the flash symbol on the right side. "Hmph" he felt his hands tighten into fits as he hunched over. Barbara and Duke overheard the noise and turned to Bruce. "Everything okay?" Bruce, still looking down at the crumbled papers in his hands and muttered, "Fine, it's all fine"

~timeskip~

It was dinner time and Bruce finally lost it. Stephanie was sitting across him, slurping loudly out of her green arrow water bottle. Bruce slammed his fits on the dinning table. "GREEN ARROW, STEPHANIE! REALLY?!"

"What? He's cool! He's a Justice league member who fights crime without any powers. Game recognises game" She flaunted her cup. "But I do that!"

"Yea, but do you use a bow? Are you blonde? I don't think so" Bruce covered his face, he had enough.

~timeskip~

At the watchtower, the justice league were having their usual meeting. Superman sat down next to green arrow and whispered in his ear. "Does batman look grumpier than usual today?"

He turned to Batman who was sulking in his seat. Wonder women and flash looking on both his sides concerned. "Seems normal to me"

~timeskip~

After a hellish week, Bruce slumped in his study's chair. His ego batter and bruised. From the corner of his eye, he could see Y/N peaking her head through the study's entrance. "Y/N" He jumped and sat up straight. He gave a twitching smile. She looked concerned. "Daddy? Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine. Daddy's just tired"

She moved to the front of the study and fumbled with the helm of her dress. "Can I come in?"

"Of course you can" She walked over ro his chair. Bruce lifted her up and places her on his lap. He smiled contently. That's when he noticed she was holding something. The item she was carrying the whole time. It was a batman doll. His eyes widened in surprise. "What's in your hands sweetie?"

"Dickie brought over the memor- memora-... stuff from the justice league" He laughed at her attempt to say memorabilia. "And I picked this"

"Is batman your favourite superhero?" He asked genuinely. She answered quickly, "Yep"

"And why is that?"

"Cause he's you daddy! And your my number one hero" She gave her father a toothy smile. He felt his eyes welling up with tears but he blinked them away and pulled his daughter into a tight hug. "I love you so much Y/N"

Y/N hugged him back just as tight. "I love you too daddy"

#batfam #fypツ #dick grayson #x sister reader #x child reader #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x child reader #x daught reader #fluff #batfam x reader

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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Five- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Throat Fucking, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Begging, Spitting, Gagging, DubCon, CNC.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Yes, Wednesday stays the same, but I've added Friday evenings for potions." You said, shutting the creaky wooden door behind you as you trailed inside the empty classroom after Mattheo. "I've already informed Professor Dumbledore."

"But, Raven...Friday nights are for the fucking boys." He grumbled, a playful yet frustrated pout on his lips as he practically threw himself into the chair. "You've absolutely sewered me here."

You cocked an eyebrow. "Sewered?"

"Yeah, you know...you sewered me...it's the clean version of 'you fucked me'," he said, staring at you as though you were an alien with three heads. "I would have just said that but we both know you've never fucked anything..."

You rolled your eyes. "No need to be so crude, Riddle."

"Crude?" Mattheo smirked, his eyes widening with sheer amusement. "What's going on with you, princess? You finally get into the club of your dreams and now you're back to being all uptight? Trying to impress someone, perhaps?"

You were on the verge of scoffing, ready to roll your eyes so far back that the inside of your skull would be your view--but then, he stood up, advancing toward you with an electrifying intensity in his eyes--a look that effortlessly stalled your breath, seizing your lungs and making your heart race without the slightest effort--and you already knew you were doomed, your defiance cracking more with each one of his footsteps.

"Guess that just means I'll have to loosen you up a bit, yeah?" He purred, gripping your jaw and directing your eyes up to meet his. "After all, my pretty little slut still has a job to do..."

Your mind reeled. My pretty little slut. The first two words were almost enough to make your stomach wind up in your goddamn feet. Not only did he call you pretty, but he fucking called you his.

"Yours?" Your voice was a mere breath as it left your lips. "Did you just call me yours?"

"I did, Raven...because it's true..." A smirk curled upon his lips, his eyes deepening into pools of darkness as he pulled you closer by the grip on your jaw. "You know it, and I know it."

"N-no..." You stammered. "It's not."

Mattheo paused, his gaze fixated on yours, a flicker of something primal dancing behind his eyes, sending a shiver down your spine that seemed to reverberate through every inch of your body.

"You sure?" He snickered. "Who else do you get on your knees for every fucking week?" His tone dropped into a low whisper, tilting his head slightly as he scanned your face, free hand finding purchase on your hip. "Who else touches you like this?...or kisses you like this?..."

With a tenderness previously unseen, Mattheo tilted your chin up, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours--once, then twice, and finally, a third time before he pressed the plush entirety of his mouth to yours--his movements so gentle, so incomprehensibly tender they made everything around you fade into insignificance, your lids fluttering shut as his mouth worked over yours. The sensation in your chest grew stronger as his hand cradled your jaw, ensuring your lips remained connected to his while his free hand traced a path around the small of your back, pulling you snug against his frame.

And as you melted into the kiss, your mind reeled with the reality of the situation. You couldn't deny the whirlwind of emotions inside you as the two of you continued this potentially perilous game; a game where the line between obligation and necessity blurred into an indistinct haze.

You knew you fucking despised this boy, but you weren't naive enough to deny that the line between love and hate was a very thin one to begin with. You were well aware that your heart was teetering on the brink of destruction, and caution was your only lifeline--so with trembling fingers, you gripped the wrist to the hand holding your jaw, exhaling a shaky breath as he pulled back, dark eyes searching your face.

"Please, don't do that, Mattheo..." you whispered, swallowing the lump of anxiety in your throat. "If you have even the smallest ounce of respect for me, you'll stop that."

His brows pinched, his hand falling from your face. "What am I doing, exactly?"

"Complicating things." You said, trying with everything in your power to keep your voice steady. "When I agreed to this, I agreed to helping you get your release and that's it...I didn't agree to whatever the hell is this is...whatever this has become..."

Mattheo huffed, seemingly amused. "And what has this become, Raven?"

"I-I don't know...you're acting weird...being possessive, calling me yours...I think you know exactly what you're doing, and I think it needs to fucking stop..." your voice was trembling, your brain telling you to stop fucking talking, but of course your mouth had other ideas. "This is what you do to every girl, I've heard your story countless times. Your little act won't work on me."

"My little act, huh?" He sneered, not even attempting to hide his arrogance. "All of that sounds like a you problem, Raven...maybe you need to be honest with yourself..."

Your brows furrowed, heart pounding. "What are you talking about?"

"You're falling for me," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I see it in your eyes...you know you can't fucking resist me..."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes until you were seeing white. "Please, don't you dare flatter yourself..." you said, sharply--the words simply flowing from your lips without even a mere second of consideration. "I would never fall for the likes of Mattheo fucking Riddle...the schools best-known delinquent who blackmailed me into becoming his little pet, only for him to harbour some obsessive need to bloody own me and keep me as his with nothing but selfish intentions...I know I'm just a body to you, and nothing more."

"What did I tell you about denial, Raven?" He sneered, his eyes darkening and jaw tightening, seemingly dismissing your last sentence. "It's highly unusual for the schools most uptight little good girl to spew such amusing lies like that...guess I really have rubbed off on you, huh? Wonder what Dumbledore would think if he found out?"

"Get out of my fucking head, Mattheo," you hissed, anger searing your skin now, kinking your neck back and leaning in until you were as close to his lips as you physically could be without touching. "You think you are possessing me...but what you fail to realize is I've already sunk my teeth into you...you're as much mine as I am yours."

"Mm." He murmured, leaning closer. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?"

"Go to hell," you breathed, your mouth brushing against his.

"Only if you come with me." He whispered against your lips, before shifting toward your jawline and grazing up toward your ear. "Someone's gotta suck me off while I'm down there."

Amused, you couldn't suppress a laugh, shaking your head at him. "You have no right having such a smart fucking mouth, Mattheo Riddle."

Mattheo's smirk deepened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "My tongue makes up for what my brain lacks, princess...perhaps you'd care to find out?"

Your lungs stalled, fingers trembling. You knew what he meant by that, and almost instantly your body was torn in half--one half of you screaming excitement, the other half screaming in nerves.

You exhaled, ignoring the tingling in your cunt. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Undoubtedly, but I'm certain you'd like it more..." he purred, voice a low, seductive murmur. "And about yesterday, don't mistake my possessiveness for weakness, Raven...I still can't bloody stand you, but I will admit that I have a clamouring need to fucking ruin you."

"I can't stand you either, Riddle." You said, without hesitation; breath hitching as his teeth grazed your ear. "It pleases me to know that the feeling is mutual."

"It's settled then." He hummed, tugging on your earlobe, hands slithering to your hips. "I hate you, and you hate me. Let's see who hates best, yeah?"

Your stomach twisted, leaping with excitement. "Oh, Riddle...I promise you, you won't win..."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, princess..." he whispered, head tilting. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Your breath hitched, a potent surge rushing through your veins, a blend of anticipation and something far more primal. Your hands instinctively left your sides, fingers finding the cool leather of his belt, and with a bold tug, you pulled him closer, feeling the tension in his body as he stiffened against you. His reaction confused you slightly, but when his eyes locked onto yours, there was no trace of hesitation--only an intense, unbridled hunger that mirrored your own.

You tilted your head, your voice a sultry, whispered invitation. "Why don't you fucking show me, then?"

Mattheo's eyes darkened, his grip on your hips tightening like a vice, pulling you fiercely against him. "Salazar fucking save me, Raven..." your hands glided up his chest, finding solace on his shoulders. "You are one hell of a fucking mystery..."

You smirked, a hint of challenge in your gaze. "Am I?"

"You should have never come near me...you should have ran the second you heard my fucking name..." he whispered, his stare penetrating yours, deadly and serious. "Now look at you..."

"Yes..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath, "look at me..."

His chest heaved in shallow bursts, synchronized with your own erratic breathing as he inched closer. His long lashes danced as he blinked, his gaze lingering on your lips, each glance feeling like an eternity passing in mere moments. Your lungs seemed to stall, captivated by the profound depth of his eyes--which, despite their rich brown hue, held a mesmerizing quality akin to the brightest hazel you'd ever seen.

And as you lost yourself in the depths of his eyes, it was there that you found the essence of the sea--deep, mysterious, and boundless--drawing you in like an irresistible tide. This is how people drown, you thought. Stupidly diving headfirst into eyes like his.

"I warned you that I was bad for you..." he murmured, one hand slithering up your side, finding your chest and softly grazing over it; forcing a small whimper from your lips. "But here you are...the sweet little angel...unable to take her fucking eyes off the devil."

As he teased your nipple through the fabric of your shirt and the sheer lace of your bra; you gasped, a low, needy sound escaping your lips while your nails dug into his shoulders, your body arching toward his with an insatiable hunger.

"Mattheo..." your voice came out as a soft plea.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips parting in a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Raven..."

"Please," you implored, your tone laced with desperation. "Just fucking kiss me."

Without a fraction of hesitation, Mattheo's hand seized the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he captured your mouth in a kiss so fervent and scorching that your teeth clacked together. A guttural groan reverberated from his chest, mingling with your own soft gasp, while your fingers found refuge in his unruly chocolate curls, tugging him closer. His lips moved against yours with a possessive hunger, as if he sought to devour you entirely through the kiss--the intensity surged, amplifying as he skillfully shifted your position, pushing you back against the desk until your ass met its edge, urging you to perch on top of it.

The cool wood raised gooseflesh over your bare thighs, but Mattheo's hands quickly worked to soothe them, one slipping under your skirt and gripping your hip, tugging you closer to the edge while the other kneaded your tits, his grip possessive and needy; turning the kiss primal and hungry.

Long fingers circled your nipple, groaning as he felt it harden under his touch, and you mewled into his mouth at the foreign sensation, your entire body engulfed in flame as his mouth moved to attack your neck, tongue tracing heat as he nipped at the sensitive skin, another aggressive shiver rippling through you.

You were trembling, hardly able to withstand the collective sensations of his teeth on your neck and his fingers toying with your nipple--your thighs screaming with need as you moaned, head absentmindedly falling to the side to give him better access to your neck.

"Mhm...so good for me..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat. "You like that, princess?"

Your lids fluttering, heart pounding, fingers trembling as you gripped the fabric of his shirt for dear life. "Y-yes..."

He hummed, nipping your ear. "Yes, what?"

As he pinched your nipple between his fingers, you yelped, the pain eliciting an intoxicating mix of sensations that made your eyes roll--desperately wishing you could press your thighs together in desire of sating the insatiable need between them.

"Yes, Mattheo..." you whimpered. "Please..."

At your plea, Riddle stopped everything, his body turning to stone as he pulled back--brows pinched, throat knocking as he swallowed, eyeing your features with enough intensity to scare the breath from your lungs.

"What are you asking for, Raven?" His voice was a low, almost imperceptible rumble, despite his lips being mere inches away from yours.

Your lungs stalled, words fleeing you. "I...I-"

He seized both your hips with a commanding hold, pulling you tighter against his chest, his lips crashing back into yours in a momentary, fervent kiss. As he pulled away, he inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes locking onto yours with an even greater intensity than before.

"I'll ask you one more time, Raven," he whispered, his voice threaded with both desire and restraint, the aggression in his tone doing inexplicable things to your body. He inhaled again, slowly releasing it. "What are you asking for?"

Trapped within the depths of his stare, you sat there, a battlefield of emotions raging within. The yearning for his touch was an overwhelming tide threatening to drown your senses, yet fear clung to you like a vice, squeezing your heart with icy fingers. Each heartbeat echoed with the dread of consequences, the turmoil of what could happen if you succumbed to this raw desire.

The unspoken tension between you two hung heavy, an electrifying charge in the air that crackled with unfulfilled longing. Both of you stood on the fragile edge of control, teetering between surrender and restraint--wanting to give in, but afraid of what might be lost in the aftermath.

Yielding to him using your mouth felt transactional, a physical act detached from any emotional involvement. He might have been your first in that aspect, but the experience held no sentimental value. He was merely exploiting you. However, the second his hands ventured into uncharted territories, bestowing upon you a pleasure unprecedented and unimagined, you both knew that moment marked a line crossed--a point of no return.

"I...I don't know," you whispered, your voice a mix of vulnerability and desire, eyes locked onto his with unwavering intensity. "I have no idea what I'm asking for."

In a heartbeat's pause, Mattheo's world seemed to hang suspended--his eyes, intense and filled with desire, blinked once, then twice, betraying a flicker of vulnerability before he swallowed audibly. His gaze, magnetic and hungered, fell to your chest, tracing the curves beneath fabric as one hand shifted to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his pants. His eyelids fluttered like the wings of a trapped butterfly, a deep, slow exhale escaping his lungs as if he were attempting to regain his unraveling self-control, time stalling until he seemingly collected himself and met your stare.

"For both our sakes, I hope you figure it out soon..." he said, taking a step back, fingers working at his belt. "Now, stand up for me."

Your heart thundered in your chest, an adrenaline-fueled symphony as you complied with his command, the sharp click of his belt being undone resonating in the charged atmosphere. Rising to your feet, you barely had a moment to react before Mattheo lunged, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse with a fervent determination, a hunger you had never witnessed from him before. The second your skin was bared, his eyes met yours, a mixture of desire and possession burning in his gaze--and with a gentle yet forceful grip, he cupped your jaw with one hand, and shoved two fingers past your teeth with the other.

"I just want to make one thing very fucking clear here, Raven..." his words dripped with intensity, his hot breath washing over your face. "In moments like these, when I tell you you're mine, I fucking mean it."

His tone was as dark as the midnight sky, a promise of dominance lingering in the air.

"Right here, right now, you belong to me--you answer to me, you listen to me, you are obedient to me...and this perfect little mouth," he emphasized, waggling your jaw in his hold, "...is fucking mine to command. Do you understand?"

Under the strength of his grip, you attempted to nod, desperate to convey your understanding, but your attempts faltered, leaving you vulnerable. An amused, devilish grin spread across his face as he witnessed your struggle, and in response, he shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth, eliciting a gag from your throat, his expression one of twisted pleasure.

"What was that?" He sniggered, relishing in your vulnerability. "Couldn't quite catch that, princess. Try again."

You struggled against his grip, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of desperation and desire. You couldn't believe the control he had over you. Although you'd never admit it, not to him, that is--you fucking loved it.

"I understand," you managed to say, your voice slightly muffled around his fingers.

"That's it..." he praised, his voice a low purr of satisfaction. "Show me your obedience. Stick out your tongue."

With his fingers still in your mouth, you struggled to comply, but somehow managed. He tilted your head back slightly, leaning down to spit into your mouth before he straightened your head and pushed his fingers deeper, the intrusion leaving you gasping for breath.

"Good girl." His lips parted as he watched you. "Now do your job and suck.”

With unwavering determination, you enveloped his fingers, your tongue dancing around the coarse skin, lids fluttering shut as you lost yourself in the submissive act. As you hollowed out your cheeks, your head moved along their length, following the rhythm dictated by his desires. Mattheo's hand, which had been gripping your jaw, released its hold, traveling down to his crotch--his face flushed with heat as he watched you, captivated.

"Fucking hell, Raven..." he breathed, tugging his pants down his thighs, forcing another gag from your throat before he pulled out his fingers and cupped his hand in front of your mouth. "Spit."

When you did, he hummed, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into the smooth skin of his shaft as he eyed your exposed chest; which was heaving rapidly in attempt to gulp down air.

Mattheo snatched your hair, bringing your mouth dangerously close to his, his hard cock pressing against your belly. "Are you going to be my good little slut and let me fuck your throat as hard as I want? Hm?"

You swallowed, nerves tingling. "Yes, Mattheo."

"Yeah?" He exhaled, you could tell he was testing his self control. "You like being used like that? My smart little Raven likes to be throat fucked like a dumb, mindless whore?"

Your stomach twisted, your thighs fucking screaming for his touch. How the fuck does he do this to you. "Yes, Mattheo..."

"Fuck..." his grip on his cock tightened, stroking his length with increased motion as he watched you. "You want to beg for me, baby?"

Your heart palpitated, your knees nearly giving out from under you. That nickname fucking did something to your cunt. Something so disgustingly dirty you could only hope the four founders couldn't hear you now.

"Gods, yes...Matty, please..." you whined, practically throwing yourself against him, ignoring the pain he was inflicting on your scalp. "Please, let me suck your fucking cock."

Mattheo's entire demeanour shifted, and if you thought he was possessed before--that was nothing compared to this.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" he growled, his voice so deep it scared your bones from your body.

Your heart plummeted to your feet. "I...I'm-"

"No, no," he hissed, cutting you off, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that left you breathless. "Say it again."

"Oh..." You were utterly speechless, your voice barely a whisper. "Matty...please.."

"Fucking hell..." he groaned, immediately shoving you down to your knees by the hold on your hair, stroking his length in a slow, languid motion as he waited for you to settle. "Open up for me, princess."

Both hands shot into your hair, holding you still while he rocked into your mouth, and you hummed, peering up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at his exasperated appearance. Your tongue pressed to the underside of his dick, earning a growl from his chest, and he jerked your neck back, sliding in deeper.

"Yeah, that's it..." he breathed, voice strained. "Take this fucking cock."

Groaning, your lids fluttered while you drooled onto him, slicking your saliva down his length, bobbing your head while you struggled to keep your attention trained on his face. His cock filled your mouth, the tip poking your soft palate, and you sucked, revealing in his sharp intake of air as you pulled back for a moment.

He adjusted his grasp, urging you back and forth on his cock, making you gag. "Mhm. Choke on it, fuck-"

You moaned against his shaft, hardly even realizing that you did, but the sound awakened something inside Mattheo, and without warning he yanked your head back further, shoving his cock down your throat in one aggressive thrust.

You retched, choked, vision flooding with tears, but with him handling your hair like reins, he trapped you there, your mouth a helpless hole for him to fuck. He snapped his hips, his dick bulging in your neck, his breath labored with the pace of his thrusts. Sweat spilled down your back, and you retched again as his cock twitched on your tongue, cranked your jaw wide, plunged in and out of your throat.

"Fuck..." he said, sighing your name.

The sound of your actual name leaving his lips did something indescribable--you couldn't remember the last time he's actually said your name, actually addressed you by anything other than the Raven nickname he seems to love so much. Your lids fluttered, and admittedly, so did your heart--with this realization, you moaned again, and his hips bucked hard, earning a stifled retch from you.

Without warning, he crushed your nose against his skin, sinking into you, cock pulsing between your lips as he shot his cum down your throat. He groaned--low, deep--head bowing and breath sputtering as he watched you take his release.

"Swallow it," he hissed, chest heaving, eyes feral. "Swallow my fucking cum, slut."

You winced when you swallowed around him, and he twitched and cursed with every ripple of your throat.

Finally, his breath stilled, and he pulled out, moaning when his cock slipped between your lips. Able to finally catch oxygen yourself, you devoured the air, wiping your puffy lips and saliva-slicked chin on the back of your arm. Riddle hovered over you for a moment, gaze roaming your figure while he tucked himself away, not daring to look away as you pulled yourself up to your feet and started re-buttoning up your shirt.

"Good girl," he mumbled, switching focus from your eyes, to your breasts, to your lips. "Come here."

The instant his words left his lips, his powerful grip snaked around your wrist, pulling you towards him. Time seemed to freeze, your lungs momentarily forgetting their function as you stood there, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. With a deliberate gesture, he tenderly brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes scrutinizing your face intently, searching for something elusive that you couldn't quite grasp.

"You okay, Raven?" He whispered, not blinking as he met your eyes.

Your throat was more arid than the desert, your fingers trembling against his chest, but you nodded. "Yes, Mattheo..."

"Good." He exhaled, releasing you. "When do you meet with my brother?"

An inexplicable fear twisted your stomach, a sense of foreboding you couldn't put into words. You felt his shift in demeanor, waiting for your response, and despite the fear gnawing at you, you tried to conceal it. Summoning a halfhearted smile as he pulled out your chair for you, and sat down in his.

"Tomorrow night."

Mattheo's jaw tensed, and he nodded, flipping open the textbook as he remained silent.

——————-

Here’s chapter six so you don’t have to scroll back to the top. Xoxo :)

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jjwantsme · 1 year

Text

trouble is my middle name

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x girlfriend!pogue!reader

summary: in which y/n decides to leave her boyfriend alone for just a few minutes, and it results in nothing but chaos.

warnings: psychical fighting, an angry but HOT jj, bestfriend!sarah, cussing, mentions of sex, fem reader, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: jj is so boyfriend for this. you’re welcome

masterlist

“Dude,” JJ laughed, an arm tight around y/n’s waist as he laughed at something pope said, “you’re so full of shit!”

“No, i’m not! What makes you think I can’t do a backflip?” Pope argued back as he rested his forearms on his knees.

“Uh, you were on the math team?!” The blondie laughed in the other boys face, getting distracted when he felt his girlfriend move away from his arm.

He was always like this at parties, always keeping an arm around her or a hand holding hers.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her when she wasn’t around him, of course he trusted her- more than he’s ever trusted anyone before.

He just knew that there were weird people out there, perverted people. And he didn’t want his honey to become a victim to their perverted ways.

“Hey, babe, where you going?” JJ quickly asked y/n before she could get too far. “Oh! I was gonna go hang out with sarah, she texted me and told me to meet her in the bathroom. Is that okay?” She smiled up at him with her sweet eyes, wrapping one of her hands around his.

JJ returned the sweet smile, “of course, baby.”

He leaned in to give her a lingering goodbye kiss, y/n humming lightly into it when she could taste the beer on his lips.

She giggled as she pulled away, “on second thought , maybe i shouldn’t leave you alone. You’ve obviously had too much to drink…”

JJ immediately scoffed, “Pft, I’m fine. Go have fun, pretty girl.”

Y/n grinned and gave him one last peck on his red lips, before walking towards where she knew sarah would be.

JJ smiled as he watched her go, just admiring his little angel. He still couldn’t believe she let him start dating her.

In his mind, y/n was 𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 out of his league.

She was too pretty, too smart. He was sure she would be valedictorian by the end of the school year- she was the most intelligent person he’d ever met, outdoing pope by miles.

It’s not like JJ was an insecure person, he was definitely over confident. Before he fell for y/n, people described him as a player, being able to kill with his looks.

He just knew a good thing when he got it, and y/n was one of those things.

His state of admiration was cut short when he heard a whistle from behind him, one that he hoped wasn’t towards his girlfriend.

“Damn, look at that ass!”

JJ’s face became red with rage, steam practically coming out of his ears as he turned around.

“Oh, shit.” Pope mumbled, preparing to call y/n back as he knew a fight was about to happen.

Typical party with JJ.

JJ grabbed the ignorant kook by the collar of his shirt, gripping it tight, “What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend?!”

“Chill, man, i was just saying, it’s a nice-“

He didn’t even get to finish his crude sentence before JJ clocked him right in the face.

Meanwhile, y/n stood in the bathroom doing sarah’s hair, still oblivious to the perverted comment that was previously made towards her.

“Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like a fight…” sarah spoke as she heard commotion from the other side of the door, making y/n pause her movements.

Oh, fuck.

“Goddamn it, J,” y/n mumbled before heading out already knowing the fight would somehow involve her drunk boyfriend.

And she was right, immediately seeing her boyfriend getting separated from some random kook as he spit out blood from his mouth.

For a mere second, as John B and pope held him back, he caught her eye and smiled at her; making her weak in the knees, despite the fact she was mad at his aggressive mannerisms.

“2 minutes,” y/n spoke sternly as she wiped off blood from JJ’s chin with a makeup wipe, “I left you alone for 2 minutes, JJ!”

JJ probably shouldn’t admit this, but man, did it turn him on to see his girlfriend get all feisty on him like this.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry, okay?” JJ sighed, “But i don’t regret what i did! He was being a total jackass.”

“I don’t care what he did, JJ, violence isn’t-“

“He talked about you! In a…weird way. Like, about your body.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s eyes softened as she bit her lip, “you got into a fight over me?”

JJ scoffed, “Damn right, and I’ll do it again!”

Now, y/n probably shouldn’t admit 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, but knowing her boyfriend gave someone a bloody nose for her, was definitely turning her on.

She didn’t need to admit it, though, instead she just kissed him, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

Boy, were they in for a long night.

#jjwantsme #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks

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devilmademewriteit · 11 months

Note

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

#javier peña x you #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier pena x you #javier peña x female reader #javier pena smut #javier peña narcos #javier peña fic #javier pena x y/n #javier peña x y/n #narcos fanfiction #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x you #em’s answering machine <3

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