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sickslimez · 2 days

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QUICKIE! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...toji just can’t keep his hands to himself after not fucking you for a week...which results in a quickie

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader and toji have kids, toji calls reader mama, doggy, groping, spanking, missionary (?), praise, cream pie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Hey do you have anything to wash?” You walked up to Toji holding the laundry basket in your hands as he played with your two kids.

He looked up at you from the floor. “Nah, I’m all set, mama.” He smiled, handing your son his favorite toy. With a nod, you walked away with the full basket, heading towards the laundry room. You sighed at the clean pile of clothes that you had to fold, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

You threw the dirty clothes in the wash before grabbing the detergent. You let out a small squeak at the feeling of your husbands hands snaking around your waist. “You scared me,” you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he responded, pulling you against his chest, sinking his head into the crook of your neck. He placed a small kiss on your skin, hands rubbing up and down your waist. “Should’ve asked me for help.”

You closed the detergent, placing it back on the shelf as you started the washer. “It’s fine, I got it,” you replied. Toji hummed in response, his hands moving lower and lower down your body. “Toji, what are you doing?” You giggled.

You tried to turn and face him but he kept you from doing so. “Uh uh, stay just like this for me,” he whispered. He pushed his hips against your ass, his cock semi-hard. “We haven’t been able to do anything for the past week. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little pent up, and you walking around with these shorts and tank top isn’t helping one bit.” He smacked your ass before giving it a harsh squeeze.

You bit down on your bottom lip, feel him grow more hard as you moved your against him. It was true, you and Toji haven’t had sex in the last week or so. Both of you so tired from work and the kids, running errands, it always got in the way of your sex life. You hadn’t really thought about it much before, but now that Toji brought it up, you were feeling quite pent up too. “So, what’re you gonna do about it, hm?” You asked, teasingly.

A low chuckle left his lips, his fingers grazing over your skin, making their way under the fabric of your clothes. His hands came up to your chest, cupping your tits and squeezing them, groping them. Your skin started to heat up and arousal pooled in your panties. Just his touch alone was enough to get you all hot and bothered. “We gotta be quick.” He hurriedly bent you over the washer, a swift hand pulling your shorts and underwear down. “I’ll never get tired of seeing this ass…fuck,” he groaned. He palmed himself through his sweats, admiring the view of your dripping cunt.

Toji wasted no time in pulling his sweats and boxers down, cock springing free and leaking pre cum. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, mixing his arousal with yours. He could already feel how warm and wet you were, cock throbbing at the thought, anticipating how you feel around him. Slowly, his head pushed past your entrance, your lips wrapping around him, sucking him in. “Ohhh fuck, baby—mmm shit,” he breathed. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back on him, going deeper to reach your sweet spot.

“Ah, oh my god.” The stretch was so deliciously intoxicating, sending your brain into a spiral and he’s barely moved yet. “Baby, we gotta be quick, please,” you begged, afraid that one of the kids might knock on the door and interrupt. You felt him thrust slowly, letting you get used to the feel of his cock before going any faster.

“Shhh, it’s fine. They’re watching a movie.” He began pulling you back against his hips so you met his thrusts, your walls clenching around him each time he threatened to pull out. “This pussy is so wet for me, goddamn,” he grunted, moving faster.

“F-fuck!” You stammered, feeling how hard and fast he was going. “Feels so fucking good!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hands gripping onto the edges of the washing machine as you tried to hold yourself stable. “Nnngh! You’re so deep! Oh my god!” You squealed.

Toji pulled you up, your back pressed against his chest as he continued to pound into you. “Shh, mama. I know it feels good, but you gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” He placed his hand over your mouth, his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Ohh fuck yes. Shit, this pussy feels so fucking good.”

Your muffled moans fell upon deaf ears, your legs felt like they were jelly. Pleasure clouded your mind, all you could think about was him fucking you until you came over and over again. Suddenly, he stopped. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and lifting you on top of the washing machine. He pulled you close to the edge, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Both watched as he slowly slid back inside, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he felt you wrap around him again. “Look at me, don’t take your eyes off me,” he demanded.

You stared back at him with lustful eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fought so hard to hold back your moans and whimpers. Your brows furrowed in pleasure, feeling how close you were to cumming. Your jaw dropped, head falling back as he grazed over your g-spot. “Oh fuck you’re gonna make me cum!” You cried, gasping for air. “Fuck! Fuck! Baby!” You whimpered.

“I know, mama. Let it all out for me. Cum on this dick.” He kept his pace the same, feeling you clench around him, a sign you were close. His hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, tongues messily moving against each other as he swallowed your moans. Finally, the coil snapped. You pulled away from the kiss, eyes rolling back, body quivering as you came. Toji covered your mouth again, muffling your curses and moans. “There you go, that’s my good fucking girl.”

He pulled his hand away, staring back at you with half lidded eyes, loving the cum drunk look written all over your face. “Cum in me,” you spoke.

“But, your not on—”

“I don’t care, cum in me,” you said with desperation.

“I fucking love you,” he chuckled with a smile, his thrusts growing sloppier. He was fixated the way his cock disappeared in you, each time he pulled back out he could see your cum at the base. It only drove him more crazier. “Nnngh, ah! Oh, baby I’m gonna cum!” His hips stuttered against yours before he buried himself deep inside of you, feeling him coat your walls with his sticky cum. “Fuck!” He grunted. “Ah, yes!” He breathlessly chuckled.

“I think we both needed that,” you laughed.

“I agree.” He smiled, pulling you closer to place his lips on yours. He slowly pulled out, his cum slowly dripping out of you. “We made quite a mess.” He looked down between your legs and then back up at you.

“We’ll clean it up—”

A knock on the door startled both on you, thankfully Toji had locked the door. “Mommy, daddy, the movie is over! We wanna watch another!”

“It’s your bedtime, sweetheart! Maybe tomorrow!” Toji shouted back. Both of you looked at each other, sharing a few seconds of silence before laughing. “I think we might have to start doing quickies more often, yeah?” He whispered.

“Once you put the kids to sleep, meet me in the shower.” You kissed his lips, entangling your fingers in his hair.

“I just can’t get enough of you, mama.”

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seventeenpins · 2 days

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knock him down a peg

pairing: QZ!Joel x F!Reader x Tess

word count: 4.4k

summary: A follow up to Never Pegged You For A Quitter. After a raid gone wrong, Joel's been acting out. Cue an attitude adjustment. Inspired by this ask! 🩷

content/warnings: threesome, pussy eating, anal fingering, Tess is 'daddy', sub!Joel, fucking with a strap-on, reader is injured, Tess is protective af about reader, Joel nuts a frankly concerning amount, references to fisting, Tess slaps Joel

a/n: uhhhh i've been working on this for MONTHS but i think it's finally ready?? shoutout to my co-writer @ozarkthedog without whom this wouldn't exist -- thank you for letting me scream about all of my horny Tess thoughts, helping me organise my brain, giving me about a million good ideas, and encouraging me the whole way thru, and to @sp00kymulderr for giving me the fic title (did you know you did that?? you did. thank you!!)

The three of you had been planning for weeks; maps spread out across the kitchen table. Packs filled with ammo and food and product. It was an immaculate plan, every variable accounted for.

It still went tits up.

Just that morning, FEDRA had changed patrol routes altogether, so your route out wasn't clear anymore. It was no matter, you'd figured. You could head south, through the old high rises, and hook around.

That's when you discovered why FEDRA changed their routes.

Swarms of infected like you'd never seen them had flooded the buildings, hissing and flailing and scrambling towards you. Tess nearly got bit. And then once you made your drop and collected your payment, you had to go back through again.

Tess and Joel had taken the rear, and you'd gone ahead, ending up face-to-face with a slimy FEDRA lackey who took all of the cards you had on you, half your new product, and still put you in lockup for three days.

All in all, bad.

Arguably better, though, than the noose.

Tess had been waiting for you when you got out and scanned over you as you limped your way out. Your shoulder had been dislocated, but she'd reset it as soon as you were let outside, cussing out the disinterested agents who were watching you, telling you to breathe deep and setting it on two when she made you count to three.

Now, you’re home, sat across from Tess, hissing as she dabbed iodine on the oozing cut beneath your eye. There was a gash on your abdomen that was just shallow enough to avoid the need for stitches. Small miracles. You watched her scan over you, head-to-toe, as if you were hiding some extra life-threatening wound that neither of you knew about yet. Her concern was firm and fierce; never sweet words, but warm hands and a careful touch.

Joel, however, wasn't handling things well. He was pacing back and forth, dangerously quiet. He wore a mean scowl, and his eyes were nearly black with fury. You could see all of his tells; the clench of his jaw, the flash of his eyes, the way his fingers twitched nervously and he refused to make eye contact with you.

The more he paced, the more Tess tensed till suddenly she snapped.

"Sit the fuck down, Joel. You're not helping, pacing like that," she scolded. He practically growled in response.

"It was fuckin' reckless," he spat, "Shouldn't've let her go ahead."

"Her?" you scoff, "We all decided I should go ahead. Someone's gotta do it, and I'm as much a part of this as you are."

He glowered.

"You think you're some kinda savior?” Your shoulder smarts, and the more Joel talks, the more you want to smack him. “Gotta protect me, is that it?"

“You’re more important here,” he argues, punctuating his point by jabbing his finger towards you, “Plottin’ out the routes, trackin’ product, inventory-”

“Joel-” Tess interrupts, “You know as well as I do that she’s been doing this just as long as we have. You wanna know why you weren’t the one going ahead?”

The guard dog reels, as if he didn’t know his place and his role were calculated. As if it weren’t something Tess would ensure.

“You’re talkin’ bout reckless? You’re the one getting reckless, Joel,” Tess hisses.

“It shouldn’ta gone like that-”

“Shit’s gonna go bad, sometimes. But we’re all here. We’re all okay.”

Joel huffs a sigh. “We nearly weren’t.”

Tess ignores him. “And you think being a martyr, putting yourself in danger ahead of us is gonna help us in the long run?”

“If I’d been up front-”

“If you’d been up front, right now we’d be cleaning your oozing face. Maybe you’d have some broken ribs, too.”

“But-”

“Nah. Shut the fuck up, Miller.”

Joel scoffs, nostrils flaring. Shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

The eye roll–that’s the final nail in the coffin.

Tess glowers. “You’d better fix your fuckin’ attitude, Joel, or I’ll fix it for you.”

He grinds his jaw, glaring at you both in turn.

But then Tess sees it; the way he’s starting to get hard in his jeans. You see it too, and you start to notice other things; the flush of his cheeks, his pupils dilated, blown black.

“Oh-,” Tess smirks and turns to you, “Look at that, baby. Looks like he wants a little attitude adjustment.”

You expect him to fire back, make some quip, talk some shit. Instead, he looks ahead. He avoids making eye contact with either of you. A deer in headlights.

“C’mon, Joel.” Tess soothes, stepping forward to rub small circles on his hips, holding and settling him with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Instead of letting you be a stubborn jackass, maybe we oughta fuck some good sense into you.”

Joel doesn’t groan, he just lets out a breath. You do groan.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to be good for us,” she taunts.

You’ve been on the receiving end of Tess’s mean streak before and it’s embarrassing how immediately it excites you. Whenever you think about it, your stomach flips and you have to actively restrain yourself from rubbing your thighs together. Her voice was then as it is now–gleeful and mocking. She made sure you learned your lesson- you fucked up, so now I gotta teach you how to act right.

The last time you’d seen her like that, the night had ended with your ass on fire, covered in raised handprints. Painful indents of bite marks bruised beautifully up along the insides of your thighs, and you’d come so many times you nearly passed out. These days when you touch yourself, you’re thinking of that; how Tess must’ve been wrist deep, fucking her whole fist into you as she opened her mouth, tongue ready and waiting, grinning when your release splashes her face and drips down her chin, telling you, “Now that’s better, baby.”

Now, fully back in the moment, you’re looking at her and you can see the fire in her eyes. Tess grabs you by the collar, kissing you hard. It’s a dizzying few moments as she licks into your mouth, tongue hot and sweet. You love how she tastes.

When she pulls away, you’re breathless and she’s smirking.

“Take a seat, honey,” she tells you, and pushes you back. You stumble and land in the armchair behind you. Then she turns to Joel. “You,” she fixes him with a stern glare, “No touching. Behave.”

She exits the room. You and Joel are left in silence.

You don’t know exactly what Tess has in mind, but you’ve got a pretty good idea.

Joel watches you, wordless. You can feel the energy, the urgency vibrating out from him, but he says nothing. Barely moves. Tess has him trained well.

You unbutton your jeans and lower your zipper. Shimmy them down your hips, past the swell of your ass, and kick them off.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and you know Joel’s just noticed you’re not wearing any underwear. You recline back, letting your legs spread. Letting him see every part of you.

The wound on your abdomen is hot, a burning pulse. Your shoulder aches. Your jaw stings. You’re pretty sure your face is a swollen, puffy mess, especially where the gash beneath your eye still weeps, and there are bruises in the shape of handprints all down your arms.

You need to feel good. Not broken or disregarded, and certainly not made to feel inadequate. You’d gotten your ass handed to you. Now, you need to indulge in some of your more hedonistic pleasures. And, you want to torture Joel, just a little.

Hoping Joel’s watching, but refusing to look up to see, you start to trace along your body. Your fingertips brush your lips first, trailing down your chin, your throat, your collarbone. It’s grounding. Assessing. You need to know what will make you feel good and what will cause you pain.

Slowly, you follow down your shirt, taking a moment to pinch your nipples, tracing a path along your belly, and then to the thatch of curls between your thighs.

You hear a restrained breath, and now you know Joel’s watching. You cup your mound, feel your own heat in your hand. You don’t want to go too far, don’t want to really start before Tess is back, but there’s no harm in warming yourself up.

A few minutes later, as you’re stroking your cunt, feeling yourself start to drip, she walks back in.

What a fucking sight to behold. Her own shirt is unbuttoned, harness secured at her waist and thighs, the firm silicone cock hanging heavy between her legs. She’s beautiful, breasts unconstrained by any bra, nipples hard, and legs so toned. She looks at you, your naked self, and her scowl softens.

She turns to Joel. “Now, that’s a good girl, huh? Look at that.”

Joel says nothing, just grunts a vague noise of affirmation.

Tess raises a brow. “Really, Joel?” she admonishes, “You had plenty to say earlier.”

He’s grinding his jaw, has been grinding his jaw for a while. You start to gingerly pull the shirt you’re wearing off and over your head, and Tess leans down to help, taking care to avoid your fucked up shoulder, all your cuts and bruises.

“This is what’s gonna happen,” she tells Joel, “I’m gonna fuck our girl, and you’re gonna watch. If you’re good, then we’ll fuck you, too. Got it?”

Joel grumbles an affirmation, but Tess is sick of his avoidance. She rounds on him, closing the space between them in only a few steps, and slaps him hard on the cheek.

“-The fuck, Tess.” Joel growls, and he’s mad now, “Goddammi-”

She smacks him again. “This isn’t a negotiation, Joel. You can leave if you want,” her eyes glance down to where his cock strains painfully against the fly of his jeans, “But I’m guessing you want to stay here and play with us.”

Finally, Joel looks at her. Directly at her. It’s like staring at the sun.

“Yes,” he admits, “I want to be here.”

“Good boy.”

Now, her attention turns on you. “How’re you feeling, baby?” she asks.

“Better every minute,” you grin up at her, fingers lazily swirling around your clit as you let yourself feel.

“Let me see,” she commands, and you let her spread your legs, opening your thighs wide as she examines your glistening cunt. She nearly gasps when she takes a look. “Oh, baby,” she praises, “Look at you-”, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

It feels so vulnerable, having Tess on her knees in front of you, looking at you bare. She breathes in deeply, groaning as her nostrils fill with the smell of you. The vulgar eroticism sends another surge of arousal through you and you’re almost embarrassed at how much it makes you drip.

Gently, she presses an exploratory middle finger against your opening and hisses out a breath when she slips in easily.

She turns her wrist, twisting the digit, letting you feel the width of her fist pressing against your mound. The pressure against you is delicious. It obsessed you, every time you considered it; the way she can make every time feel like the first time. You could never get bored. She’s a force.

You want to taunt her or tease her, rile her up just a little more. You love her rough side. But you know she wouldn’t go for it, the state you’re in, and besides–you’re tired, and the way she’s fingerfucking you feels so goddamn good you can’t even think of a single thing to say.

She goes from stroking your folds and covering you with your own slick, to slipping her ring finger in with her middle. It’s an easy glide, too, and she starts pumping the digits, thumb hard against your clit as she works you open.

“God damn,” she groans, “All beat up and you’re still fuckin’ gushing for me, pretty girl.”

The pressure is overwhelming but you want to endure, need to endure. That doesn’t, however, stop your body from writhing and shaking, and the combination of her words and her ministrations, you know Tess feels how hard you’re clenching around her, feeling yourself get too close, too fast. She winks at you before turning back to Joel.

“C’mon over here,” she beckons him. He obeys, kneeling down beside her. She leans over and narrates. “Look at how she’s taking my fingers. Barely any resistance. Slipped right in, see how wet she is for me?”

Joel hums in acknowledgement, something between a sigh and a growl.

“Good thing she’s this wet already,” she tells Joel, nodding at the strap between her legs, “Otherwise you might have to suck it first-”

His growl turns into something like a whine, desperate and beautiful. You know more than most how much effort he’s putting into not allowing himself to speak. How he must really be desperate to get fucked if he’s restraining himself like this.

“And we know that’s not a punishment for you, don’t we?” She swats him on the cheek, “We all know how much Joel Miller loves suckin’ cock, huh?”

She’s not wrong. His eyes somehow grow darker, and you’re so focused at watching his reactions that you barely even register Tess spreading your legs even further apart till the head of her cock presses against your drooling cunt, and she slides the entire length in, bottoming out in a single smooth thrust.

“JESUS, Tess,” you cry out.

She just grins and holds you by the waist. “Hold on tight baby,” she tells you, “I know you can take all this and then some.”

After a few restrained thrusts, she finds her rhythm and starts fucking you. The initial sensation of being filled starts to wane, and you swear your pussy is a starving entity of its own. It wants and it wants and it wants.

The ache is so good, and she’s deep, too. It’s a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure. With each cant of her hips, you sink further into a blinding euphoria. It’s exactly what you need.

“Taking me so fucking good,” she praises, “Like you were made to take me. Goddamn, baby, you’re dripping like a faucet.”

“Needed this so bad-” you mumble, “Fuck, Tess, I need you-”

“You got me, baby,” she promises, “You got me, I’ll give you anything you need.”

Every word is punctuated by another thrust.

“Tell me what you need, honey.”

“Faster,” you gasp, “Please, Tess, need it faster-”

With a growl, she shifts you, pulls out for a moment and grabs you by the legs. She drags you further down the chair but rests the back of your calves on her shoulder before plunging the strap back in, deeper and rougher than before.

You wince a little, the tender part of your belly stinging, and she notices immediately. Rearranges you, just a little.

When she slides back in, the pain is gone. Only pleasure remains.

“See?” Tess snarls, “She knows how to be good, huh?”

Still holding your legs with one arm, she wraps the other around you and lands a hard smack on your ass, grinning when she feels you gush around her again.

You buck and writhe, and you know you have the stupidest grin plastered across your face.

She makes you dizzy.

“That’s it, baby,” she tells you. “So good, telling me what you need,”

“Fuck–” you rasp, “I’m gonna cum, Tess, please-”

She keeps to the rhythm, letting her fast strokes and the snap of her hips undo you. You’re close, so fucking close, but you can see the way she’s trembling, so focused on you, you don’t think she realises she’s close to the edge too.

Now, the only thing you want is for you both to cum together.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tess, daddy, cum in me, please–”

A strangled moan leaves her, breathless, and she fucks into you and feels the way you tighten and pulse around the cock, feels the way you drip greedily down her thighs, and that’s enough; Tess comes with you.

As you come back out of the fog, your head is giddy with bliss. You’re tangled up, sweaty, sticky skin pressed together. You hold her close as she runs her hands up and down your back, soothing you. Your breasts are pressed together like a jigsaw puzzle, and the thought is silly, but it’s true.

The strength of your orgasm has knocked you numb, and it takes several moments for your vision and hearing to come back fully. Tess seems to be in the same boat, because it’s at the same time that you both hear it.

Slick squelches. Soft moans.

You both look over at the same time. Tess’s jaw drops. You feel another surge of arousal run through you as you focus on Joel.

“I’m- I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you, “Shouldn’t’a acted like that.”

You barely register his words. Instead, you watch how he’s stripped down near completely, barring his socks. That should make you laugh, but his legs are lewdly spread. With one hand he’s gripping his balls, clearly trying not to touch his drooling cock. With the other, he’s three fingers deep in his asshole, moving desperately. There’s a bottle of lube nearby and you can see its contents dripping down his wrist as he pumps his fingers hard and fast into his aching hole.

Tess looks stuck between telling him off for touching himself, and wholly impressed by his dedication to preparation.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she laughs, incredulous, “Someone’s eager.”

She’s still inside you, and you can feel another rush of your cum drip down the strap. An idea strikes you.

“Fuck him with it,” you tell her, looking down at the thick silicone as she glides out of you, “Fuck him with it, while it’s still dripping with me.”

Tess moves a hand to her breast, pinching and flicking at her own nipple, practically growling at your words. She stares at you for a moment. Then back to Joel.

He’s lost for words, too, it seems. He looks absolutely wrecked. His fingers are still buried deep, but they’re not moving anymore. Focus on the motion is forgotten, he’s just fixed on you both, eyes darting between you, waiting for a decision, any decision, to be made.

“Honey,” she smirks at you, “Why don’t you move over to the head of the bed there, that’s a good girl.”

You get up and scoot back, snorting a laugh as she swats at your ass while you rearrange yourself so your back is against the headboard.

“Spread those legs,” she orders. “Mmm yes, that’s it. My good fucking girl-”

She turns to Joel. “What a nice view, huh?”

Your lips are puffy and used, shining with slick. The room smells like sex, heavy and intoxicating.

“I think you’d better clean up the mess I made of her,” she gestures towards you and Joel doesn’t hesitate. “Hands and knees, Miller.”

He moves from his seat, crawling up the bed, wrapping his hands around your thighs and spreading them further.

The first stroke of his tongue feels like coming home. The hot, wet pass of it is intoxicating, and you’re already so sensitive you don’t need any focus on your clit to feel the build clutch at you again already.

“Good boy,” Tess praises him. He growls into you, the strokes of his tongue growing wider and faster, drinking up every drop of you.

He pulls away for only a moment. “Fuck me, Tess, please-”

“You focus on her and you’ll get what you need,” she promises, “But you’d better move fast, Texas.”

He sighs, but glances up at you. He nods, more weight to it than you’d expect, before he runs another lick up your cunt.

You shudder at the sensation, your legs turning to mush again. His calloused hands scrape against your thighs as he holds them apart, nuzzles at your pussy, dives back in, alternating between licking and sucking.

There are many things that can be said about the man worshiping between your legs, but no one could ever say he eats pussy with anything less than religious devotion.

He nibbles gently in a way that devastates, knocks you back and wears you down. Once you’ve hit one peak it doesn’t take you long to hit the next, and he has you on the edge so damn fast you’d feel embarrassed if you didn’t also feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,-” you breathe, “Fuck, Joel-! Can’t fucking stop coming- Fuuuckkk–!”

He blinks, dark brown eyes gazing up at you as he continues, relentless, barely impeded by the way your body is convulsing from the overwhelm of sensation.

You shudder on his mouth, legs shaking, involuntary whimpers turning into something more like panting whines and moans. You’re pretty sure the entire building can hear you. You really don’t care.

Tess has been watching the whole time, smirking but silent. Now she lines up her still-wet cock against his slick hole.

“Y’ready, Miller?” She asks, and you feel yourself melt at the tenderness of it. You fall in love just a little bit more, every time you see her soft.

He grunts an affirmation. His mouth is still on you but his movements slow and he buries his nose between your folds, nudging at you gently as Tess presses the head of her cock to his slick hole. The most beautiful whine slips out his mouth, reverberating against your cunt. You can feel the way his entire body moves, pressing up into you, as she lets herself loose, thrusting shallowly at first before snapping her hips in longer, deeper strokes.

With one particularly brutal thrust, he knocks forward. The curve of his nose hits against your clit and you come again with a shriek, soaking his face as he takes everything she gives him.

You’re worn out, spent and satisfied. You clutch him by the hair and yank him off of you, and now his moans aren’t muffled anymore.

He keeps his head between your thighs, breathing in your scent as the cum on his face cools and starts to dry. He’s loud, whining and grunting, taking Tess’s cock like it’s his only purpose.

“Fuck, Tessa-” he sobs, the heat of his breath on your used-up cunt. “Feels- so fucking- good.”

“Feels real fuckin good, don’t it?” she echoes, rhythm never ceasing, “Lettin’ your daddy fuck you like this.”

“Uh huh.”

“You wanna be good for me, say thank you?”

“I-” His words come out stilted, punctuated by each thrust. “Yes-”

“Say thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank- Thank- you- daddy-” he chokes.

“Thank you for what?” you prompt, and Tess grins. Joel looks up at you with a flash of something that could be fury or hunger.

“Thank you-” he hisses, “Thank you- daddy- for teaching me a lesson-”

“Good boy,” she soothes, “Say ‘thank you daddy, for teaching me how silly and childish I’ve been.’”

“Thank you daddy,” he echoes, “For teaching me how silly I’ve been. How childish. Ain’t been actin’ right. Not to you honey-” he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. Closes his eyes when he speaks to her. “Not to you either, daddy.”

“You feelin good, baby?” she asks him.

He breathes out a shudder. “Feels so fucking good, but–”

“But?”

“Need more. Need to be touched.”

“Poor baby,” Tess pouts, “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

He whines, but nods.

“But since you’re taking this lil attitude adjustment so well, I suppose we can let you cum. That sound alright to you honey?”

“Sure,” you beam, “He can rub himself up against the mattress if he likes. Cum just like that.”

“Mmm yeah,” Tess agrees, “You able to cum from rutting up against the bed?”

“Yes- yes anything, please-”

“Love it when he begs,” you sigh and Tess hums in affirmation.

She presses him down, keeps her cock in him as she knocks him so he’s flat on the bed, legs splayed, swollen dick rubbing against the covers as she holds him by the hips.

This whole time, she’s kept a steady pace. Not quite brutal, but certainly not leisurely. You see the way his own hips rock as he humps the bed, trying to find an angle that’ll give him the release he needs.

“I’m- fuck, I’m getting close Tessa– Gonna fuckin cum–”

“Good,” she smacks him hard and watches the flesh of his ass shake deliciously from the blow.

The masochist he is, it’s all he needs to tumble over the edge.

He comes with a shout, cum painting the bedsheets and pooling on the fabric, coating his stomach, his cock, his balls. Tess is still inside him, still hitting his prostate with every stroke, and it strengthens his orgasm to a point of almost overwhelming intensity. After a few moments, you’re not sure if he’ll ever stop coming, the amount of it verges on concerning as the pool of cum threatens to trickle over the edge of the bed.

Finally, his orgasm comes to an end, and Tess’s thrusts slow.

They both reel back, panting, Tess pulling out gently and Joel whimpering at the loss of sensation.

“Good boy,” she tells him, unbuckling the harness and letting the strap fall to the floor.

“Fuuuuuckkkkkk-” he sighs, and you giggle. His eyes snap up to you, but he’s laughing too.

He shakes his head and starts to peel himself up from the sticky mess he’s made. “Sorry I’m such a jackass.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “We know you’re a jackass.”

He nods, considering.

“And–” Tess joins in, “We know how to set you straight.”

He snorts.

“Just– I know you were scared out there,” you tell him, and he must’ve been fucked real good because he doesn’t even try to argue. “We’re always gonna have close calls. But we’re in this together, yeah? Don’t shut me out just because you’re afraid.”

He’s silent for a moment. Then nods at you.

“Okay, honey. And- thank you, Tessa. You know how t’ keep me in line.”

“Anytime, Texas,” she grins.

You get up and turn on the shower. The rest of the day, you’ll get clean. You’ll rest. You’ll let your aching bones start their healing. Just over the sound of the shower spray, you hear Tess speaking to Joel; “Now, unless I’m much mistaken, it’s your turn to change the sheets-”

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #joel miller x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x f!reader #tess servopoulos x reader #save me daddy tess #daddy tess save me

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penvisions · 2 days

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gone to the dogs {series teaser no.2}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Smuggler Partner! Reader

Warnings: adult content, sexual content, unprotected p in v, rough joel miller, canon typical language, joel is mean, reader is mean back

A/N: a little something from the series i teased forever ago, dunno if it'll make the final draft cut but i wanted to share something with y'all in the midst of all this craziness

series teaser || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You reached into the side pocket of your pants. Taking a pack of travel tissues out and took one out as you stood to wipe yourself clean of his drying spend. Behind you he got up to his feet as well, his thighs protesting the movement, his knees twinging at the weight of him standing. You turned around to offer the pack to the older man.

You tried to hide your smirk as he smacked it out of your hand, muttering under his breath that he 'didn't need no damn tissues' before pulling his pants back up and fastening them.

“What makes you think there’s gonna be a next time?” His hand came to grip around yours completely, his skin still insanely heated.

You went to pick the pack up from the ground, but his hand pulled you toward him, your legs were too weak for the sudden movement and you stumbled into him where he was leaning against the counter for support on his own shaking legs.

Rough movements for a rough man.

His hands came to rest on the curve of your ass, his palms wide over the soft give of it. He smacked his bare skin to yours, your own pants still shoved down enough for him to have his way with you. You looked up at him, his eyes waiting for you as he looked down at you.

He was smirking, eyes calculating as he watched whatever crumbs he could of your thoughts across your face.

“Because something tells me you have a few more commands for me.” You feigned over confidence, hoping he wouldn’t see how much he just wrecked any other person for you. You leaned forward and kissed him deeply, his lips bruising as they moved against yours.

He snuck a hand underneath your chin and nudged your face up more, he pulled away from you and there was a something different swirling behind his eyes that had your heartrate pick up.

“All you gotta do is ask and I’ll oblige.” You ducked your head, to hide the small glint of teeth that betrayed a satisfied grin. You could feel his eyes on you, always watching as they took in the way you jiggled a little to get them back up on your hips, the movement making your chest bounce in your tank top.

Once you were both fully dressed, he pulled you into a tight hold that you wouldn't classify as a hug, but for him it was. You huffed as the air left your lungs as his squeeze. You tensed for a millisecond before relaxing and bringing your arms around him, around his middle. You rested your head on his chest, his chin going to rest atop it. You squeezed him back, just relishing in the fleeting casual intimacy.

Knowing it was only a moment and the gruff commands and barks of words would resume the second you both stepped out from the abandoned building.

taglist: @jessthebaker @hiddenbabynyc @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute

@itsokbbygrl-library @littlemisspascal

#dev writes #fic: gone to the dogs #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #mean joel miller #qz joel miller #boston qz #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #smut #dark joel miller

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whatitshouldvebeen · 1 day

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as someone who has self harm scars i was curious. what do you think johnny would think if he saw his s/o (or victim) had some? also i love ur writing so much <3 hope ur staying hydrated and getting enough sleep !!

First tysm for loving my writing!! I have the type of ADHD where I forget to drink anything so unfortunately not but I do get decent sleep ty for asking ❤️ I hope you enjoy the fic and remember, Johnny is not a licensed therapist so please don't follow his suggestions 😂

Scars of the Past

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x reader

Warnings: self-harm, blood, local insane man is certain he can make a girl feel better via knifeplay, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 1,670

Maybe Johnny was stupid for hitting the same place twice after already having picked up a girl, but he had to see if you were still around. You, the girl who checked everyone into the nightclub. The girl he’d been following home for the last week. When you'd taken his hand to stamp it, he honed in on your wrists right away. Scars, and plenty of them.

You were accustomed to getting looks and were used to it by now, so all you did was smile at him and usher him inside. He left a few hours later with a drunk girl on his arm and that was that, or so you thought.

So when the club closed around twelve, you were surprised to see the same tall, dark, and handsome man from last night push himself off the brick wall and approach you.

"Hello, little miss," he drawled as he stopped in front of you while you put on your jacket.

"Oh, hey," you replied, not fully engaged.

"I'm Johnny. What's your name?" he asked.

You glanced up at him and shared your name as you finished fastening your coat.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he remarked.

"Thanks. Listen, I gotta get home now—" you began, but he interrupted by taking your hand, drawing your attention back to him.

"I couldn't help but notice your scars," he said, pushing your sleeve back to inspect the faded white lines. Your gaze shifted to his, noticing a large scar over his eye that you hadn't seen before.

"I doubt you did that to yourself," you responded with a half-smile.

"My ma did it," he said, catching you off guard.

"I'm sorry," you said softly.

He brushed it off. "It’s fine. But I'm curious, why'd you do this to yourself?" he asked, genuine interest in his eyes.

You looked into Johnny's dark gaze, surprised to find understanding rather than judgment. "My childhood wasn't the greatest," you explained with a shrug.

"Don't most people hide their scars?" he inquired.

"I don't care what people think. I'm in a better place now," you replied, trying to reassure both him and yourself.

“Are you?” He asked, running his thumb over your scars. You didn't know that he'd seen you through your bathroom window, curled up on the floor of your shower, sobbing. You didn't know he'd seen why you called out three days ago, because you couldn't bear to drag yourself out of bed.

Feeling uncomfortable, you pulled your wrist away. "Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, attempting to brush past him, but he blocked your path.

You then felt something that made all the color drain from your face. A knife, pressed against your abdomen.

“Nah, I think you'll be coming home with me tonight,” he hissed low in your ear.

–

He drove you to a hotel, and checked into a room, always keeping the knife at the small of your back.

“I'd take you home to mama, but she gets funny,” he said, gesturing to his scar.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked as he opened the hotel room door, pushing you inside before him.

“Tell me your favorite part about cutting,” he demanded, locking the door behind you.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

“You heard me,” he replied, removing his shirt and revealing numerous scars that crisscrossed his pale skin.

"Did you do that to yourself?" you asked, taken aback by the sight.

“I asked you a question first, missy,” he retorted with a cocky grin.

You sighed, sitting down shakily on the bed. “I just like to be reminded that I'm alive, okay? Shit hurts too much,” you mumbled.

“Well, you're certainly alive, darlin’. A whole club of people pretending to be happy, then there's you,” he remarked, stepping closer with a predatory gleam in his eye. “I can see you better ‘n all them. I see through the walls you built. You're not okay, but you could be,” he said, then turned his Bowie knife around, holding the handle towards you.

"What the hell?" you whispered, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion.

“Cut me. Tell me if it makes you feel alive the same way it does when you cut yourself,” he instructed, as if it was the most normal request in the world.

You took the knife, raising an eyebrow at him. He didn't move, he just stood and watched you with a gleam in his eye.

You stood, holding the knife so tightly your fingers hurt. You could've slit his throat, or tried to anyway. Why did he kidnap you just to hand you a knife? Did he have a death wish?

Adrenaline made your heart pound in your ears. He wasn't moving… he must be serious. You raised the knife, took a deep breath, then sliced it across his chest.

“Ooh,” he winced, hissing through his teeth, “got me good. Must be all the practice,” he said with a laugh. All you could do was stare as crimson cascaded down his torso.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, the knife still limply held in your hand.

“Same thing as you,” he responded simply, running his hand over his abdomen and bringing his fingers to his lips, staining them red.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked anxiously.

“Why you askin’ me that, you're the one with the knife!” He laughed.

You looked down at the bloodied knife in your hand and realized something. In this instance, you look guilty. If you were to try anything, he could very easily claim you assaulted him.

“Guess you're in a pickle, lil’ missy. Let me help you outta it.” He stepped forward, leaning toward you. “But before I do, tell me how it felt.”

You took a deep breath, watching as the blood continued to seep from his wound he wasn’t bothering to stifle.

“It felt the same as when I cut myself, I guess,” you admitted. “I felt alive.”

“Knew it.” Johnny grinned. “In that case, I have a proposition for ya.”

He set one bloodied knuckle under your chin, angling your eyes to meet his. “There's someone who's stumbled onto my property, you see. Trespassin’. I could use some help teachin’ them a lesson. Might help you feel the same way you did cutting me.”

“I don't know, I'm not a bad person,” you said, your heart still pounding like mad.

“You aren't, but you felt that thrill, didn't ya? The world ain't black and white sweetheart.” He shrugs, moving to the bathroom and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his abdomen. “Far as I see it, trespassers need to be punished. Come with me. If you do, I'll let you go without a fuss. But I can promise you that you'll be back.”

“And if I don't?” You asked hesitantly.

“Well then, either you escape and I tell the cops you cut me open… or I kill you before you get the chance,” he said matter-of-factly, his demeanor chillingly calm.

You held up the knife, pointing it toward him, a futile attempt to assert some control over the situation.

“If you try it, I know how to survive, darlin’, and it only makes you look more guilty,” he said confidently, approaching you and allowing the knife to dimple his stomach when he reached you.

“Come with me,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours, which was still gripping the knife.

You continued to hold on, but deep down, you knew you stood no chance against this man. So, you let go.

“There ya go,” he said, his face lighting up. “Oh darlin’, we're gonna have so much fun.”

#johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #tcm #texas chainsaw massacre game #tcm game #tw self h4rm

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thew4nder3r · 2 days

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mutual masternation with percy jackson plzzz??? with the reader being a daughter of zeus and percy tells her “all u gotta do is breathe, ima handle the rest baby” or “are u still with my baby?” omgg i would meltt if he said that to mee

an! TEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHE LY

| don't like it - don't bite it. don't complain, just scroll |

| if you see a typo... nah, you didn't. |

"Shhh, baby~" he whispered sweetly in your ear "just relax, 'kay? I've got'chu..." his hand trailed further down to the small of your back before back up to the back of your neck. His other hand probed at the wet hole between your legs, occasionally letting the tips of his middle and ring finger move just past the rim before pulling back out and smearing the liquids around your pussy lips. "Just breathe, okay? I'll take care of the rest, princess." *he grabbed one of your hands by the wrist before bringing it down to your pussy. As foggy as your brain was, you understood what he wanted. You began to smear your juices against your clip before pressing down on the nerves, gaining a hiss from your lips.

"That's it..." he bit his lips, his dark hair falling over his blue eyes before he pushed it away with his hand. He used the liquid arousal that remained on his fingers and spread it on his thick cock, giving it a few strokes before throwing his head back with a groan. "Fuck, lovely..." he looked back down at the way you jittered and whimpered as your fingers drew tight circles on your clit before he forced them to stop with his hand around your wrist. He brought your hand to his dick while his went to your clit. He began to press onto the bundle of nerves and you began to stroke his dick, two moans coming from both of you in sync. The torture continued for hours, both of you on the brink or release but not enough to come undone. After what felt like an eternity, he lifted your chin with his free hand.

"Y'still with me, pretty girl?" He asked in a husky voice, intentionally applying more pressure to make your mind fuzzy.

"Wanna skip to the good part?"

#This sucks #I hate it #smut #percy pjo #pjo smut #percy smut #percy jackson smut #percy jackson

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audisive · 1 month

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♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.

tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon

Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself.

Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.

"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."

(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)

Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!

He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable.

Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.

"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.

"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"

Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."

It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.

It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.

"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.

"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.

Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?

Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.

When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.

divider by @cafekitsune !

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 months

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✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #my writing #I’m not sorry for this #this was super self indulgent 😂#enjoy the new goofy Luci face!#a goofy face is my calling card lol #I was writing a lot of this in a public area I hope y’all appreciate the risks I take lmao

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yunnuys · 4 days

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When it’s too big

How jjk men act when their cock is just too big ^-^

Incl (^_−)−☆ Nanami Satoru Choso Suguru Toji

Nanami Kento:

He’s so sweet and patient with you, he’s a gentleman but he’s also a man with needs. No but seriously he knows that he’s above average so of course it’ll hurt at first. He takes his time with prepping you, making sure you’re wet and stretched enough for him. He presses soft kisses to your forehead as two of his fingers rub your already puffy pussy, occasionally moving up to gently circle your clit. When you let out a small whine and say how you’re ready and need him now, he just shakes his head and shushes you.

“No not yet gotta make sure you’re all ready for me sweet girl, just hang on for me okay? I’m gonna give you want you want.” He thinks you’re so cute all needy for him, one finger prods at your hole, slowly entering. He loves the way you basically suck his fingers in, always so easy to rile you up but he still takes his time. Once he’s able to slip two or three fingers in that’s when he knows you’re ready for him. Swiftly removing his fingers he replaces the emptiness with his cock.

“See.. told you.” He smiles down at you, his hand now wrapped around yours. “You’re so wet it slipped in easily.” Nanami slowly starts to thrust his entire length in you, making sure he’s gentle.

“You’re so… fuck… good girl you’re too good to me.”

Satoru Gojo:

Cocky cocky man. He’s very prideful of the fact that 1. He’s the strongest and 2. He has big dick (^o^). He likes that he’s bigger and stronger than you, it really turns him onnn. He knows he’s big so he doesn’t really make you take him all, but you want to.

“Oh babyyy you don’t have to take me all the way if you don’t want to, I know it’s hard for you.” He coos at you at he rubs his thick cock through your folds. At this point you’re too far gone and needy, you just need him inside if you or you just might cry. “Ohh you can take it huh? You’ll let my fat cock stretch you out.” In which you just nod and whine, he’s so annoying with he teases you but you go along with it since you’re too needy.

“That’s my girl, knew you could take it..”

A bonus if he lays his dick on your stomach to measure how deep he’s going to be in you (*^▽^*).

Choso Kamo:

He was way more hesitant than you were at first. I mean he didn’t want his cute girlfriend to be uncomfortable :( but you insist that you can. You think it’s cute how he’s worried for you, but you’ve never been one to back down.

So that’s how you end up on top of him, his hands on your hips as you slowly push yourself down on his cock. “Shittt… so big Cho.” You say as your brows furrow from the slight stretch, it hurts but at the same time it feels so fucking good. On the other hand Choso’s pupils are blown, already looking fucked out just only from his tip entering you.. so cute.

“O-oh.. so.. you feel so good,, you sure you’re okay baby?” You nod as you bottom out, the both of you moaning in unison. When you start to move your hips Choso can’t even stop the sounds that escape from his lips.

“Holy fuck… you took me so well… please.. keep going.”

Suguru Geto:

Gonna switch it up with Suguru and how much he loves to watch your mouth around him…. Suguru loves to have his dick in your mouth, he loves the way you seem to struggle to fit him all in your mouth. When his pre and your spit mixed together dribble out your mouth is enough to make him bust in your throat right then and there. You’re just as eager as him though, always willing to take him even when you’re just straight gagging.

It all starts with a heated make out session to his fingers being stuffed down your throat. “Gotta make sure my baby is all ready for me yeah, open wider.” He does this every time before you down on him to “prep” you but he just loves the way you suck on his fingers cause he’s a FREAK (lovingly) like that. He makes sure to praise you when you finally take him in your mouth, slowly inch by inch till the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. Halfway in and it’s already at it’s limit :0 so you use your hand to stroke what’s left of it. You’ll be sore by the morning but he always takes care of you!

“Yeah you look so pretty when you’re gagging on my dick like that.. just like gonna swallow it all for me?”

Toji Fushiguro:

Mean mean mean meannn man. He loves the fact you’re smaller than him, bullies you even. But that’s only cause he loves you so much, you’re his girl. His to please. His to touch. His to break (≧∀≦). You’re just so cute when tears escape your eyes when you struggled to take him, but you’ve been begging and teasing him all day so you’ll be good and take it right?

Toji have had enough of you teasing all day, the subtle touches all day while you two were out. It’s just funny seeing him getting all riled up and annoyed. But it’s way more entertaining to him once you’re under him, eyes glazed over as his tip slowly enters and exits your pussy.

“Oh look at you…. all teary eyed and shit and I’ve only put the tip in. What happened to that tough girl act you were putting on earlier hm?” You let out a whine as you struggle to keep your eyes out, causing him to shake his head. “Oh cmon you wanted this princess, the way you kept testing me earlier.” His words causes you to squeeze down on him, earning a low grunt from his lips. “Just relax ‘kay? I know you can be good for me.”

“That’sss it yeahhh fuck.” Toji mumbles as soon as he sinks his whole cock in, walls basically sucking him in. “What a fucking slut you are taking me like this.”

Um tried something new (*´-`) hope u enjoy! (^-^)v

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merakidoll · 16 days

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i’ve been having insane thoughts about nerd!geto and what immediately came to my mind was ball sucking. also - of course the readers a bimbo 🙈

i imagine his balls to be so sensitive. let me paint the picture, his pretty bimbo princess looking so pretty, and so lost, as he explained you how to do calculus. your eyes wide already knowing the answer but wanting him to tell you because he just looked so good in his glasses, and getting a tad bit frustrated. “you gotta pay attention princess. i can’t stand next to you and give you the answers during your test,” he brushed back the bangs that fell from his ponytail going over the answer again. and when you finally decide to be good and say the correct choice - he praised you.

“that’s my girl!” he kissed your cheek which made you moan because you were just soooo needy. your pretty sound went directly to his dick- and balls. and you saw the very obvious print in his ironed khakis; so you had to help! “n-no baby- shittt,” while hallowing your cheeks you too notice on how his balls looked so lonely, you of course wanted to fix that. so taking him out, that granted whines; you scooted down on the bed so you were between his legs better.

engulfing one set him over the edge, his balls so sensitive that your warm, wet, mouth had him seeing starts and saying incoherent words; glasses fogging up by his heavy breathing. cum flew everywhere, coming down on your face. it didn’t help geto that you still kept him in your wet tunnel while he came. your feeling‘s were hurt at how you barely got to have any fun with the big ball - how it being your first time getting to play with them; so instead you moved to the other. “enough princessss! g-god you’re gonna b-be the deathofmeee FUCK!”

starting to swirl the round body part in your mouth: you, yourself began to moan. you felt like a slut - well you are one, this was different. how you could feel the prick the small hairs made to your tongue. or how they pumped in your mouth, you gargling them; spit dripping from you at how were eager to please. geto subconsciously started to jerk his cock, his body shaking when he would squeeze himself, pre cum pumping out and falling all over himself making a mess. when the second orgasm came you both were just so dumb.

you so into rotating both balls trying feel the pumping sensation, it making you go - dumber that you hadn’t registered the rain of cum again. geto hands instantly letting go, his cock hurting by how hard he came; glasses falling off of his face as he pushed you away backing up on the dorm room bed. he took deep breaths looking at you like you were insane; stray tears falling from his pretty eyes slowly.

what could you say? you reallyyyy liked balls.

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gamermattsgf · 25 days

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“Cool spider…” // Tattoo artist Chris

Warnings: sextape / colleague relationship / favour for a favour trope / riding / petty Chris x reader / nose piercing!Chris / spanking kink / mommy kink / slight breeding kink / tattoo!Chris / praise kink / ownership kink / degradation kink / ��good girl’ / creampie / unprotected sex / hair pulling / exhibitionist kink / scratch kink / tit play / overstimulation

Summary: you and Chris both work in a tattoo & piercing gallery, and your toxic ex just won’t leave you alone… so Chris decides to shut him up and put him in his place.

Author’s notes: I’m baaack. someone’s seriously got to stop me from making up fics on stuff that I’ve just randomly yapped about and blogged for fun. Me: posting about tattoos I’d think Chris would look good with. Also me: ‘-now hang on a sec that’s actually given me a great idea…’ *pulls out a notebook and starts vigorously writing shit down*.

“Gotta know, I ate her, she's so sweet, now or later. I want that all the time, all the time I'll make you all mine” - Toes Down, Loukeman

. ♱ .

You sigh, checking your phone once again before flipping it back around to face the desk. You shake your head and put it into your hands to rub it slowly in exhaustion. This is the fifth time he’s texted you today and your patience with him was slowly thinning.

‘You good?’

Chris mumbles absentmindedly from his hunched over position at the counter. He has his shirt off - as he usually does - to keep himself cool as the ceiling fan whirls above your heads. You look at his back, and the way his light wash blue jeans wrap around his lean waist lowly.

His right arm moves languidly as he sketches out a stencil for one of his clients, the graphite of his lead pencil scratching against his favourite sketchbook soothingly in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the tattoo parlour.

You admire the jet black ink adorning his torso, that stretches from the bottom of his spine to cover the expanse of his shoulder blades in jaggedly aggressive patterns, the back tattoo attractively sat over his otherwise soft skin.

The muscles wrapped around his shoulders move as he draws, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of them.

‘Yeah… I’m fine’

You reply, not at all convinced by your own weak attempt of trying to mask your obvious distaste for the sight of the messages on your Lock Screen whilst you shuffle about trying to clean a needle gun.

‘Oh really? Cos’ I’m hearin’ a great deal of sighing for your corner of the room and not alotta action…’

Chris sarcastically snorts back, his voice containing buckets of care masked within the joking manner. He doesn’t even bother turning his face, far too absorbed by the current drawing of a tiger he was doing on someone’s chest in a couple of weeks time whilst he expertly shaded in the small black stripes of its rippling body.

You pause for a minute, debating on whether or not you should actually tell Chris about what’s been going on. It’s your ex. And Chris doesn’t like him at all. So how is he going to react when you tell him he’s been quite literally harassing you for the past couple of weeks?

Not well is your guess…

Even though you two are co-workers, you share an extremely close relationship and tell each other practically everything, which sometimes readily blurs the lines between your strictly professional work ethics.

‘Ugh fine, it’s Max, he’s just sort of been bothering me lately…’

This catches Chris’ attention, and his head perks up. Craning his neck he looks back at you with narrowing eyes of suspicious icy blue.

From this angle over his shoulder you can see the gleam of his silver nose ring, and his torso twists just enough to reveal a new tattoo. One that you actually did on him yourself.

It was a delicate but bold patchwork tattoo of a large black widow spider, its long spindly legs stretching across the expanse of his ribs and looking like it was using them to scale up his chest. You struggle to hide a smile at being able to remember doing it on him so well.

You can easily recall the faint buzz of the needle gun and Chris’ soft occasional groans as you punched in the bulbous back of the widow’s body onto his skin that rose and fell to the rhythm of his exhales.

It must have been a sensitive part of Chris’ body because his breathing had been raggedy and his eyes had been squeezed shut for a majority of the tattoo. You had faintly mumbled ‘cool spider… you draw it yourself?’ To which he had responded with a grunt and an affectionate ‘duh’.

Whenever his eyes had opened to look at you they had been dilated heavily, with either pain or pleasure, you’re not quite sure.

He glares over at you and shakes his head. ‘Not this fucking idiot again… what’s he done this time?’.

Chris’ patience for Max has never been there, and he’s often one to be petty about every single move your ex boyfriend makes.

Chris has never liked him and so rejoiced when he heard from you that the break up had been messy on his side of the bargain.

Max was trouble, and so you had done the right thing when breaking things off with him. However, Max wasn’t one to easily let go, and he had been pestering you to take him back ever since.

‘Just being his normal asshole self I suppose’.

You’re deliberately vague with Chris, because you don’t want him to get all riled up like he usually does. He had given up his sketch now and had fully turned to lean his back and elbows onto the counter, knowing that you telling him this information was far more important than the task at hand.

His eyes then flick to the door of the studio, where the welcome sign hangs in the centre of the glass window pane. All around the door are frames of hundreds of different tattoos, all in the different styles of each of the employees that work here. No one else is working today though, it’s just Chris and yourself maning the store.

Chris is a primarily black work realist, and so his designs take up quite a lot of time, their lifelike splendour forking cash loads of money into his bank account whenever a piece is completed.

Multiple clients of his have been here for months as Chris prefers to take his artwork in sessions so the healing isn’t as tenuous.

Quite a few of his previous works have been photographed and framed about the waiting area, just to showcase his impressive ability.

Your area of speciality is more in line with fine line tattoos, you prefer delicacy over all else and likewise, some of your bigger works have been photographed and framed about the shop.

‘You got any more scheduled clients with appointments today?’ Chris spontaneously enquires, and you can tell simply by his face that he is pondering some form of idea within his head that makes you nervous. You hesitate with your response.

‘…Emm- no, I don’t think so?’.

Chris nods mischievously and smirks with his mouth open and his tongue pushing against the side of his teeth playfully.

‘I’m gonna need a little bit more of an explanation than just ‘he’s being an asshole’ then, cherry…’ Chris sing-songs as he pushes himself from off of his slouched position and starts to exit from behind the counter.

The nickname ‘Cherry’ had caught on fairly quickly between the two of you, because Chris had thought that you honestly looked way too sweet to be working in a downtown, grungy tattoo shop. After his first usage of the fond name it had just kind of stuck and now always sounded like molten amber honey dripping from his mouth.

He puts ‘he’s being an asshole’ in knowing quotation marks because he already knows how much of an asshole Max is. He’s experienced it before whenever your ex has decided to show up to your place of work and be a nuisance.

You’re pretty sure you almost had to hold Chris back from planting a right hook into his jaw one time because he had knocked over a bunch of new inks the store had just purchased for everyone’s clients.

Chris’ jaw had clenched immeasurably and you had quickly veered in front of him to plant your palms onto his collarbones after he had taken a large stride towards Max.

You had held him back gently, telling him to take several deep breaths and keep cool whilst you dealt with it.

Well… your version of dealing with it was calmly escorting him out of the shop and reassuring him that you’d see each other later before meekly returning back into the reception area to face a fuming Chris who immediately rolled his eyes and spat a quick ‘I’m gonna ban that bitch from coming in here next time he shows his ratty lookin’ face…’

You had simply sighed, shook your head, and tenderly patted him on the shoulder.

At the present, you squirm nervously when you see the way Chris walks right up to the door, before twisting the heavy duty lock on it and flipping the welcome sign to the side that displayed a big ‘closed’ on the front that was visible to passing strangers.

‘Chris it’s not that big of a deal honestly!’ You try and laugh it off as Chris spins back around. He then walks right up to you.

Grabbing one of the other chairs at the desk you were sitting at, he turns it around so that he can comfortably straddle it.

‘Uhh, well that’s where you’re wrong because it just so happens that my favourite girl’s ex is bothering her, and if she’s gotta problem with it… then so do I’ he sassily bites back, referring to you in the third person as he rests his taut forearms onto the spine of the chair, which gives himself something to lean on.

You have to ignore the way your stomach flips when he calls you his favourite girl, and you shyly flit your eyes to the floor whilst still fumbling around with the tattoo gun.

‘Well um… he just- he just keeps uhh’ you start, stuttering and having to sigh in utter frustration at not even being able to articulate your words properly.

Suddenly your eyes feel hot, and they sting a little. You are not going to cry in front of him. You panic when your voice wobbles and try to regain your composure as Chris looks at you with a worried expression.

‘Hey- hey… s’okay cherry, s’alright. Take your time, I’m here’.

Chris notices your flustered state and coos gentle reassurance at you whilst stretching one of his hands out to softly stroke the ball of your shoulder, right on the section of naked skin where the fabric of your top straps don’t quite reach.

You want to say that Chris is just being friendly, but somehow, the way he touches you tells a different story. It could have just been a harmless pat, but instead he had curled the knuckles of his hand and used them to soothingly skim up and down your skin, slowly, repetitively… almost sensually.

Chris liked any excuse to touch you. You were so soft and supple, a major contrast to his own skin. And he hated seeing a man like that crumple you up like a simple ball of paper and toss you into the trash.

You take one last stuttering breath before continuing.

Gazing at Chris’ soft smile and focusing on the calming gleam of his nose piercing, you find yourself relaxing once again as you take your time to look at each of his individual statement pieces whilst relaying your story.

His silver nose ring, his two lobe piercings that were decorated with spiked metal hoops, and his helix piercing, that came in the form of a small snake charm. It shone in the natural light of the room as it slithered up the expanse of his cartilage and provided a nice distraction for you.

‘I don’t know… h-he’s just saying these disgusting things about my body, and- and how I’m never going to find someone that will treat me better than him in bed. Just general filthy shit like that…’ you mumble, feeling absolutely humiliated and degraded at having to tell Chris about what Max has been saying to you as you sniffle and rub your nose.

As you explain yourself, the motion of Chris stroking your arm slows up significantly, and his little smile fades with every word you speak to him. His eyes narrow, something you noticed he does whenever he’s seething with rage.

‘Gimme your phone, I wanna see these texts’ Chris quips demandingly, using the hand that was once rubbing your skin to unfold itself and silently ask for your phone.

You sigh and hand it to him without much of a fight. You know that there’s no use in trying to argue with Chris when he gets like this. He’s driven, and once he has an idea there’s rarely anything you can do to deter him from it.

He unlocks your phone, already knowing your password, and starts to scroll through the endless shower of sexually abusive messages. You bite your lip as you look at him reading them over.

He sits on the backwards chair with his jean-clad thighs casually spread out, still one arm resting on top of the spine whilst the other one holds the phone and vigorously scrolls downwards.

You then flick your eyes to his face, and the way his rosy lips wet themselves as they quietly announce some of the words that he reads back to himself. The further down he goes the more furrowed his brows get.

Suddenly he shakes his head with an angry tick and slams your phone face down onto the table. You jump slightly at this, and blink at a Chris that had immediately shot to a stand.

‘That’s it, m’not dealing with this shit anymore. If he can’t leave you the fuck alone then I’ll make him.’

You look at him in confusion.

‘What’s that supposed to mean…?’ you shyly trail off but your question is shortly answered as soon as Chris bends down to level with you and seamlessly digs his palms into your thighs so that he can pluck you up from off of your chair.

You yelp a little in shock, your heartbeat thrumming against your ribcage before you quietly recover as Chris curls your legs around his hips. Upon touch, your hands instinctively fly to grip onto the back of his neck, his skin being warm and tepid.

The scruff of his long hair feels like satin tickling over your fingers and Chris groans in achievement as soon as he feels your thighs tense against his waist.

He’s been waiting for an excuse to do this.

‘Max is tellin’ you that you’re never gonna get a better fuck than him? Well I’m about to prove him wrong, s’that okay with you, cherry?’ Chris asks, not really expecting no for an answer as he starts to walk over the squeaking floorboards to the backrooms of the shop.

He knows exactly where he’s going and something deep within your core flutters at this assertive kind of attitude.

Chris has always been the extremely blunt and forward type of guy- if you looked pretty that day, he’d tell you, and make it obvious that he was attracted to you.

Today was no different, you could tell he had every intention of fucking you and making it extremely clear to Max just how good he was going to do it.

‘Y-yeah’ is just about all you can muster in your shaky state.

As you look down at Chris’ face, his chocolatey waves tussle in a rather wild-looking way whilst nestled about his pierced ears. Your fingers timidly skim about his neck, and one of them draws nervous patterns over the black bat tattoo situated behind his right ear that he had gotten for his brother a year ago.

‘That’s my girl’ he praises cockily as he barges through the beaded entrance way into one of the client operating rooms. There’s a black leather stretcher in the centre of the room and a stool sitting idle right beside it where the artist sits.

Chris goes straight for the client table though.

He smirks a toothy grin as he plops you down onto the spongy leather and you find it within yourself to crack an equally as excited smile. He nudges open your legs so that he can stand in between them and weighs his hands down onto your hips, pressing his thumbs into your bones and rubbing them fondly.

‘Did Max kiss you at all when you two fucked?’ He asks breathlessly with his cerulean eyes lilting down to your lips hungrily.

He’s itching to get all over you. He’s been dying to taste your tongue on his for ages and it just so happens that this posed as the perfect, sneaky way to do so.

‘Well, hm… not that much, but I guess a-’ you start to explain, but ‘not much’ is enough of a pathetic answer for Chris to fall forward and engulf your lips in between his before you can finish anyway.

Your little muffled whine of shock is swallowed by a Chris that attaches himself to your bottom lip quickly.

Winding one of his hands behind your back, he uses that - and the other one gripping your hip - to yank your body towards his. You two stay flushed together, and you can feel Chris’ throbbing prick against the seam of your pants already. He’s hard, and clearly pent up for you behind his low-waisted jeans.

‘That’s not good enough’ he mumbles, almost in a tongue-drunken stupor against your lips, criticising Max so that he can subtly defend his choice to kiss you.

Really, he had no need to, but fuck did he want to.

You don’t complain, in fact, you simply sigh at how close Chris is. You can feel his nose delicately skimming against your cheek the more he twists the side of his face to gain better access to you, and you can’t help but lust for the way his dewy lips wrap around your own.

The contrast between his cold fingertips brushing against your body and his hot tongue leeching out to slip into your open mouth makes you shiver.

‘N-no you’re completely right… that’s not good enough’ you coquettishly add on to the conversation you two have in between kisses. As you shit talk Max together, you only encourage Chris to take further jabs at him.

‘And what about these pretty little things here…? Did he touch these enough?’.

Chris’ nose trails down the line of your jaw to dip and run along the jugular vein of your neck whilst he pants desperately. He holds your sat figure into his standing leant one with one hand gripping your ass whilst the other one trails up to squeeze against one of your braless tits.

Wanting Chris to play with them, your blushing figure shakes its head and you swallow thickly. ‘No…’.

Chris hums a casual ��huh’ in playfulness before the hand playing with it decides to slip itself under your shirt for better access. You heavily hiss and arch your back as soon as skin on skin contact is reached and Chris gingerly touches your peaked nipple.

‘You make me feel like such a pervert when you don’t wear a bra to shifts we do together because I stare at them all the time…’ Chris confesses as he gently kneads one of them within his big palm. Whilst he does this, his face buries itself into your neck to pepper sprinkles of sloppy kisses all over your skin.

‘What if I told you I do it on purpose… I like it when you look…’ you breathe with your head knocked back in pleasure. Chris stops his assault on your neck to gaze at you with raised eyebrows of shock.

‘Fuck. Max was an idiot for fumbling you…’

This makes both your heart flutter and your core drip. You like Chris’ praise a lot more than you like Max’s degradation, and make sure to let Chris know this by giving him another kiss.

‘S’mommy gonna let me suck on her tits?’ He ponders in a feigned babyish voice against your lips, the sweet lilt of his sensual tone almost making you melt into the client’s table.

Your needy reply of ‘yes’ is soon followed by an immediate response from Chris, who slowly reaches into his back pocket for his phone.

He slides it out and then presents it in front of your face with his brows raised.

‘And is mommy gonna let me film it so that I can send it to Max and let him see me having my treat?’.

Your eyes flick to the phone, then to Chris’ expectant face, absolutely drowning in lust at the thought of Chris wanting to film himself sucking on your tits. You nod without hesitation, and Chris smirks in victory.

He’s definitely using this to touch himself later.

Chris quickly fumbles around with his phone in excitement, scrubbing his home screen into his camera roll before he’s pressing the small red button to record himself propping it up onto the counter right next to where you were sitting.

You watch within a trance as Chris feeds his hands into the bottom of your top to sensually slide it right up your ribs. He then runs it over the top of your tits and leaves it to rest above them with a purr of ‘good girl’.

You feel your knees get physically weaker at the sight of Chris veering his face down into your tits, his mouth almost feathers against them as both of you look at the camera at the same time.

Chris has a little victorious smirk on his face, that he smugly flashes to his phone before turning back in and gently kissing your nipple.

He can’t stop his conniving smile as you seal your eyes shut and throw your head back, whimpering with your fingers combed into the back of his hair and tugging on it. Chris makes a show of poking out his tongue and licking you before he fully kisses one of your tits into his mouth to suck on it.

He moans a little starved whimper at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth whilst his tongue rolls and his teeth clamp down onto you.

His hands get grabby as you pant, listening to the way the microphone of the camera absorbs the sloppy sounds of him sucking on your skin whilst he kisses and licks wherever he can.

‘That feel good huh?’ Chris mumbles into you, and you whine in response with a stuttered ‘so- so good’. He nods cockily, eying the camera with your second tit already in between his teeth. ‘Yeah? This the best mouth you’ve ever had?’.

Struggling to fight off his smile at the comment he completely stole from Max, he knows it’ll make your ex’s blood boil, especially when you reply with an instantaneous shout of, ‘fuck- yes, I- I need more baby!’.

‘You want more?’ He drawls temptingly, pulling away from your chest that was now red and glistening, some sections littered with subtle teeth marks and some with purpling hickies.

‘I’ll give you more baby’ he laughs through his teeth before pressing his fingertips onto your core.

‘Hope you’re soaking for me, you’re gunna need it’ he quips before lightly trailing his hand up to the button of your zipper.

Your core clenches again when he pops it open, the insinuation that you need to be extra wet for him because of his size making you want to pass out in horniness.

He opens the front of your jeans before feeding his hands underneath your thighs so that he can pull you towards him and also force you onto your back to tug your jeans down.

After that, he watches the way you squirm when he sticks his fingers into the side of your sheer panties. In view of the camera, the pad of his thumb swipes up your slit as he checks your sensitivity himself.

‘Awe angel you are soaked… what a good girl for me’.

His sweet praise melts over you in the best way possible, and you can’t help but get shy and cover up your eyes to smile.

Sometimes you forget that the camera is there, but Chris never does, and he glances over at it constantly to smirk as if Max is already watching on the other end of the line before turning his attention back to admire you.

‘I’m gonna make that pretty pussy feel so fucking good momma’ Chris boldly states as he starts to fumble around with his chunky and glamorously rhinestoned belt buckle. The leather of it flaps and his buckle gives a metallic jingle whilst he undoes it, his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the downwards slant his head holds.

‘Please- I really need you’ you mumble breathlessly, spreading your legs even further in reaction to seeing the stretch of his cock against his white Calvin Klein boxers as soon as he lets his jeans drop to the floor with a heavy crumple.

From here you can see his thigh tattoo of a crooked spiders web, done in extremely fine ink, delicate but dark.

‘I know you need me baby I know- be patient alright?’ He shushes you with a reassuring coo, before sliding to the side of you and hopping up onto the table himself. He positions himself right in front of his still recording phone so that he can get the best angle for this.

‘Why don’t you go ahead an’ take off those panties for the camera sweet girl… do it for me?’.

Chris’ whiny sounding voice is just so sugary and compelling. You’re pretty sure you would do anything he asked if it really came to that extreme because along with his voice, his lips and eyes really did the trick for you.

Chris stutters a breath as soon as he pushes his hand down his boxers to take ahold of his hot, silky cock, it’s skin already wet with precome at just how divine you had sounded whilst he was attached to your tits.

He tightens his fist to squeeze himself and throbs in his hand, his mouth dropping open and his shoulders heaving as you slide off the table and strip from your clothes fully.

As soon as you’re done, you can feel your wetness trickling and sloshing about your folds, and so you squeeze your thighs together when looking at Chris for his next instruction.

Chris hungrily gazes down to your panties that lie in a messy heap on top of your jeans. ‘Gimme those?’ He commands and gestures for you to grab a hold of your panties and give them over to him, which you do obediently and without question.

Chris grasps ahold of them and balls them up into his fist before smirking at the camera once again. ‘These are mine now… so’s your pussy’.

You turn red at this low and beastly remark, trying hard not to pounce on top of Chris for saying it. He talks so smoothly. It’s as if every word his mouth forms puts you under a lemony haze of pleasure and you just can’t get enough of it.

You just don’t understand how he can keep this up when you yourself already look like a fucked-out hot mess.

‘I’m all yours Chris’

You practically flee into his awaiting arms, and he hoists your bare and pink centre over his lap.

Kissing your tits again, he grips onto your fleshy thighs and moans a whimper whilst side eyeing the camera in ultimate possessiveness, just to make a show of it being him who’s sucking your tits, and not Max.

He’s going to feel so smug and proud of himself as soon as he sends this his way.

‘Can I have your cock Chris, please?’ You beg, stroking his waves of hair once again to butter him up - not that you’d really need to work all that much to have his cock in the first place…

‘Of course you can Cherry, you’ve been so good for me’ Chris replies as his fingertips stroke against your stretch marks, before he leans in and whispers ‘help yourself…’.

You glance down to the tent in his boxers with your lip bitten and a giddy little smirk on your face. After Chris invites you, you waste no time in pulling his weeping cock from out of the restraints of his boxers.

The hip tattoo he has of a Cupid with angel wings, a halo and a winking face soon makes itself known to you after you tug his underwear down a little further. The ink of the little boy’s heart-encrusted bow and arrow cheekily point right to the base of Chris’ cock, and so you crack a smile, shaking your head fondly at Chris’ inappropriate but witty humour.

He’s thick and throbs in your hand, his tip sticky and slick as it pulses a light pink taffy colour whilst a thick blue vein pokes itself out from the side of his length to travel right down to his base. ‘Fuck’ you breathe. Chris looks at you cockily and is very much pleased with your wanton response.

‘Want you to sit on it till it hurts and you can’t no more precious girl’ he mumbles as he hitches your hips up into his hands and lifts you above him. You nod with a little ‘Uhuh’, your stomach flipping and oozing to feel the stretch of him. He’s bigger than Max, and the thought makes you careen in pleasure.

You almost forget that you two are both supposed to be at work, because all of this feels so private and intoxicating, and the implication of Chris making it into sex tape gives you life.

As soon as you’re placed on top of him, you hold his base so that you can sink down properly, and both of you choke out whines at how fucking amazing it feels.

‘Shit… still tight honey… has Max really been using you properly or is his cock just that small?’.

Chris can’t help it. He gets off on criticising your priggish ex boyfriend because he truly fucking hates his guts. And damn does it feel good to be fucking you with the intention of letting the man himself know through the recording of it.

‘Fuck, I feel so full’ you speak into the air.

You then have to bite your hand so that you don’t draw tears because of the burning stretch Chris gives you. It’s almost unbearably uncomfortable for the first minute of bottoming out.

But then it stops being uncomfortable and starts making you squirm again at needing some form of friction to move yourself.

So you do.

Lifting your hips slightly, you slip back downwards and grind forwards at the same time whilst Chris looks up at you with star-ridden irises. They twinkle in the light and he pants heavily after every time you move.

He soon starts to naturally move himself, needing to respond to you in some sort of way.

He loves watching your tits bounce whilst you rise and fall onto his cock, the sticky slickness of it slapping within his ears and making him want to come all over your insides already. You squeeze him so fucking well, and he equally stretches you out to the limit.

The rough skin of his prick steadily rubs against your walls and ignites an explosion of sensitivity within your centre whenever Chris pushes himself far enough to hit your g-spot. He’s so big he almost bulges from your stomach.

‘Who owns this pussy, who does it belong to?’ He barks as you squeeze your eyes closed and scrunch your nose up, having to slam your head onto his shoulder because of your overstimulation in pleasure.

You stutter out a quick ‘ugh- y-you’ as you feel Chris’ fingers grab onto your hips because of their slowing roll. He digs them into your skin and starts to move you himself at an even faster pace which makes you whine even louder.

‘Sorry… not quite sure Max heard you- can you say that again for me Cherry?’ Chris meanly rebutts and makes your cheeks flame red after he actually takes his palm and harshly swats it against the side of your thigh. You yelp at the brash cracking sound the sweaty skin-on-skin contact creates, but nevertheless still cry a humiliated ‘you!’.

Chris praises you immediately after with a soothing ‘that’s right… good girl’, before starting up his sly and conniving antics once again.

‘And whose name are you gonna be screaming from now on hmm?’.

Chris’ little taunting hum is fucking petty. But also, just what you need to finally cum.

‘Yours Chris! Fuck- all yours!!’.

You’re almost shouting as you arch your spine and throw your head back in ecstasy whilst your legs quiver and an almighty wave of euphoria rushes over your whole entire being.

‘Awe baby… cumming already? I was just getting started…’ Chris coos cockily as he lets go of one of your hips to soothingly stroke against your back with a pretty pout on his lips.

However that pout doesn’t stay for long because it struggles to fight the smirk that quickly overtakes his facial expression at the thought of how quickly he had made you cum.

He glances at the camera once more, to admire the position the both of you were in with dilated eyes, before focusing back onto you and speedily forcing your hips up and down a couple more times to finish himself off.

You squeak and claw at him in overstimulated pain, whining for him to slow down, but all he does is gently hush you in comfort. ‘I know shhh, I know. Wanna make sure I fill you up nice and good though baby’.

His voice is so gentle, and in lulls you into a drooling stupor with tears in your eyes as you claw at his tattooed back with your sharp nails. That’s going to leave heafty scratch marks.

Chris is tempted to wipe them away, but doesn’t have enough time before he’s groaning loudly and his tip is uncontrollable squirting out thick ropes of cum.

He bounces your hips a couple more times to get rid of as much as he possibly can. He wants to see it practically leaking from out of your abused hole. After he thinks you’ve milked him dry, he lets go of your bruised waist and you crumple back down into his embrace.

He rubs your back as you try to desperately regain your breath with your core raw, stinging and slimy with Chris’ cum.

‘There’s my good girl… taking all of me like that. Swear I’ll give you my babies next time you take me that well.’ He absentmindedly praises you for the last time, and you find it within yourself to laugh in disbelief, shaking your head before you slap his shoulder and lean upwards to look at him in the eyes once more.

‘Okay… you’ve proved your point. Now stop recording so I can kiss you a little more.’

Your thumbs stroke the bags underneath his eyes, and his smile is so sunny that you’re sure it could have opened up flowers on a dewy spring morning.

‘Yes ma’am…’

. ♱ .

Later that evening, Chris had sat alone in the tattoo parlour.

He had told you that you could go home early and that he’d sanitise the rooms and lock up as a special treat for you.

You had done as you were told and left a while ago, which left Chris to watch back the sex tape that you two had made earlier with a mean and satisfied smirk slapped over his lips.

He had rewatched it about 3 times, admiring the way both of you had moved with the volume all the way up to listen to your heavenly sounding whimpers. He had replayed his favourite bits a great deal and was fucking obsessed. He couldn’t help himself.

He had then exited the camera app and went straight into Instagram, searching up Max’s account profile to slide into his DMs.

With one final smirk, he had bitten his lip victoriously and selected the video of you and him together before attaching it and typing one final thing before clicking the send button and locking his phone.

Might wanna think next time you make bold allegations about how she’ll never find a better D x

. ♱ .

Author’s notes p.2: guys I’m actually so sorry for disappearing off the face of Tumblr for fuck knows how long without an explanation. Truthfully there isn’t really much of an explanation apart from the fact that I’ve simply been too busy to write (and have also had major writers block atm- hence me and @luv4kozume collab taking so long lol). BUT I’m back with something that has actually turned into one of my favourite pieces of writing on this blog, so I hope it’s been worth the wait!! I love all of you guys for asking where I’ve been and equally as much for missing me. I’ve missed writing for you guys so much and am absolutely obsessed with tattoo artist!Chris, also don’t worry you guys, you’ll get cherry popper 3 one of these days lmao… Anyways, until next time cherry pies!! 🍒

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#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader

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servicpop · 2 months

Text

NOW STARRING : deliquent (almost) bf (Adrien) x good student reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤAdrien gets a bit lonely and pulls reader under the staircase during break!

✙ warnings — semi-public sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, reader isn't 100% submissive, dirty talk / like 2 sentences of degradation and praise / not actually dating / slight internalised homophobia / mentions of bisexual Adrien

notes ,, first smut, hope I did well -> part 1 | not proofread!

"Fuck— keep quiet alright?"

When Adrien left a cryptic text message saying to meet underneath the staircase, you at first thought you had done something wrong and he was going to beat you up for whatever you did. But, turns out — it was a really silly reason — that Adrien saw this couple making out underneath the tree they had and he wanted to experience something like that with you. Obviously because friends help friends right?

Underneath the staircase was quite dim and almost eerie. It wasn't as romantic as kissing underneath a cherry blossom tree but when have you two ever been the cheesy romantic type? When you arrived, he pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you like he had been reunited with his long lost lover — which wasn't too far off since he truly believed that you two dated in a previous life. When he hugged you, you tried to act nonchalant, you tried to ignore the warmth that his chest gave off or how safe you felt in his stupdily built arms. Friends aren't supposed to feel like this to eachother, especially if both parties are men!

"Did you call me over just to hug?" You chuckled softly, fighting every bone in your body to not hug him back. You gotta be strong, you can't fall for a deliquent bad boy, it's too cliché.

"I called you over to fuck."

"Wait, what?"

You felt Adrien's hand grip the back of your head, pulling your hair hard enough to tilt your chin up but not hard enough to hurt (he can't be hurting his precious boy). His chapped lips met yours, it was obvious that he didn't take very good care of his lips but that didn't matter, you'd help him out later. The kiss was rough and almost experimental as if Adrien had never kissed another in his life — which was wrong seeing how he's had multiple girlfriends in the past — he seemed almost hesitant, unsure.

Fuck it. Just this once you'd give in to Adrien, but that doesn't mean you were dating him!

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you prod your tongue against his lips, you figured you would demonstrate how to kiss properly to him, he was a hands on learner after all. His eyes widened slightly and his hands dropped to your waist, supporting your balance as he hesitantly opened his mouth, letting your tongue explore. It was weird because usually he'd be the one always taking control but your occasional leading was a breath of fresh air.

After awhile he pulled away with a smirk, "I got it," he replied before picking you up and forcing you to rely on him for stability. A small squeak left your throat as you were hoisted up in the air and pressed against the wall, your legs instinctively wrapped around Adrien's waist. He kissed you again except this time he took dominance, roughly exploring your mouth, poking and prodding at anything he could find. He was so rough that you hadn't noticed his belt come off until the metal clinked on the ground, then you realised what was poking at your ass.

Shit, he was big. Not necessarily in length but girth and thickness, it was practically the perfect all-rounder.

"Wait— Adrien, condom?" You stuttered, the fear finally settling in now. Its not like you were a virgin, just that you've never had someone like... Adrien. His eyes met yours in slight disappointment but he didn't want to go too far on his first time with you, plus, he wasn't even dating you so why would he go so far? Shaking off his thoughts he nodded, rummaging in his pocket for one while keeping you pressed against the cold wall.

"Jerk me off first? The latex gets uncomfortable to put on," He put on a fake pout, letting you stand as he held his throbbing cock out for you to see. You huffed, he was definitely lying but you'd humour him. Just for today.

You reached down, your warm palm engulfing his tip and he let out a low grown in response. Your thumb rubbed against his slit and a smile cracked onto your face when you saw the pre-cum leaking out already. His forearms caged you in as his head hung low, you could see his eyebrows furrowing and the way his face contorted in pleasure. Adrien's hips grinded up into your fist, matching your rhythm as you stroked his cock, gripping tighter at the base before swirling your thumb on his tip. It was almost like you were massaging his climax out.

"S-shit how are you so good with your hands," He sucked in air between his teeth as he hissed, groans and low moans slipped out of his mouth like water. Eager hips bucked up into your fist, chasing his release. "Close, fuck—" He cursed under his breath, his hips almost slamming into your hand, his body trembed as he was so close. His eyes flew open as he looked down to see your thumb covering his urethral opening, denying him of an orgasm, "Wh–?"

"That's enough isn't it? It should slip on easily now," You grinned, taking the condom from his hand and ripping it open with your fingers, rolling the rubber over his now overly sensitive dick. He stared in disbelief, you just... denied him? Him? Oh you were getting it now.

"You little pervert," Adrien chuckled darkly as he whipped you around, pressing your chest against the wall and holding your arms behind your back. It wasn't the most comfortable position ever but your uncomfort was interrupted when he pulled your pants down with your boxers. It was embarassing to say the least, showing off your ass like this to another guy, you were glad you had to face the wall, otherwise you might’ve crumbled from embarrassment if you saw how hungry Adrien looked.

He was teasing you. Edging you. Slipping his cock along your entrance but never actually pushing in. You were dying of anticipation because from your position, it was hard to see anything other than the walls. A surprised and embarrassingly loud moan slipped out and you'd cover your mouth if it wasn't for Adrien's hand binding your wrists together. Adrien had slammed his hips into you, his cock buried deep inside you. No warning no nothing, he was truly cruel. One hand was gripping your hip while the other hand let go of your wrists, you were finally able to stabilise yourself against the wall but long fingers thrusted their way into your mouth. Well this was new.

You gagged slightly around his fingers as you tried to say something about it but your words were blocked by Adrien's middle and ring finger. His hips also began to pick up speed, pulling out almost fully before slamming back in. You were kind of thankful for his thick fingers blocking and muffling your moans or else people were sure to catch you two fucking like bunnies underneath the staircase.

He leaned down so that his chest was flush against your back and the hand that was gripping your hip turned into his arm linking around your waist as he held you close. Adrien's breath fanned your ear before he spoke, "You know those– puppy bandages you gave me yesterday?" His question was broken from panting and groans as he kept thrusting. "Where did you buy them? I– fuck– want them," Adrien chuckled.

You would answer if you didn't have two fingers stuffed in your throat. "You know... good boys don't gatekeep, you don't wanna be good for me?" Fuck. You were never the one for praise but that? That made you cum on the spot. Your knees gave out as your poor cock spurted out white but Adrien was already keeping you up right. He laughed, his gravelly laugh travelled straight through your ears and to your cock. He smiled against your shoulder, almost like he was hugging you from behind, he quickly came after you. Shame that it wasn't inside you but it would do for now.

You both panted, and he took this opportunity of vulnerability from you to sink his teeth into your skin, eliciting a small gasp from you, "What the fuck Adrien?" The bell rung, indicating that break was over and you whined, fixing your uniform before pulling your boxers and your pants up, wincing from the weird sticky feeling from not cleaning up. Adrien was already dressed and he waved you off, quickly running off to a spot where he could skip the next few classes with his friends. You'd have to fix yourself up in the bathroom later.

BONUS

"Did you seriously cum from my praise?

"No, it's just a normal reaction."

"Who's a good boy?"

"Fuck you..."

"Nope! Never letting you top."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

♡

notes ,, the smut wasn't as detailed as I wanted it to be but I get fics done in like a day so I didn't want it to be so long, anyways! That's adrien, I'll be working on a fic for my next oc "

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top character #oc x male reader #male reader #male x reader #male x male #mlm #semi public sex #oc x reader #servicpop — fics/drabbles

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 9: Save Me

Summary: You find yourself confronting feelings as you move past the events that caused your distress, and as your heat begins looming closer and closer.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, mention of weapons, slight suggestive content

A/N: I feel like a broken record but I really don't like this one either, but I'm so ready to just get to this point in the story lol. I feel like I've dragged it on long enough. We're definitely reaching a point where things are shifting and changing and things might seem like they're moving kind of fast. Sorry for all the choppy time jumps too, I just wanted to get to this point in the fic 😭

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

A knock on the door pulls you from sleep. You groan quietly, wrapping your arms tighter around the pillow you're cuddling.

That pillow lets out its own groan, moving slightly.

“Gotta get up, love. Answer the door.” Your pillow grumbles, shifting in your hold.

You're wrapped around Gaz still, clinging to him tightly. You vaguely remember an alarm going off and Gaz rolling over to turn it off before you slipped back into sleep. Gaz had apparently fallen back asleep as well, or at least had stayed with you after both of your alarms going off.

Gaz carefully untangles your limbs from around him, slipping a pillow into your arms before rising from the bed. He stretches his arms over his head, a sliver of skin visible as he does so. You stare at it until he lowers his arms, your eyes already slipping closed again as he opens the door.

You hear quiet voices, the words lost on you as you slip further and further into a daze of sleep.

Until the smell of food hits your nose. Your stomach growls loudly, and you lift your head, squinting sleepily as you search for the source of the delicious smell.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Price's voice rumbles through your ears, his hand warm as it brushes over your head. “How do you feel?”

You let out another groan, leaning into his touch as his hand strokes your hair. You’re still sore, muscles aching like you had spent the entire day yesterday training. You feel less emotionally drained, not quite so overwhelmed to the point of near numbness now.

“Dr. Keller wants to see you after you’ve eaten.” Price says, pulling his hand back.

You let out a quiet whine, trying to chase his hand. He chuckles, gently nudging you back so you don’t topple off your bed. He slips his hands under your arms, moving you so you’re sitting on the bed. Your cheeks warm at how easily he does it, that warmth heating to an inferno as he sits on the edge of your bed with the bowl of porridge in his hand. You’re suddenly very awake as he holds out a spoonful to you, and you feel as if your face might burst into flames. His eyes are focused, lips turning up in a small smile as you let him feed you. You know it’s appeasing his alpha, just based on the pride practically beaming from him.

You hold his gaze as he feeds you the porridge, skin prickling from the attention as you cling to the stuffed strawberry in your lap. You can imagine him in your nest, holding you against his chest, feeding you in your heat-induced daze, making sure you eat and get plenty of fluids.

“You alright in there?” He asks, scanning your face.

You nod, trying to calm the inferno under your skin. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

The content smile on his face shifts, morphing into a smirk. “Must be some good thoughts, then.”

You nod, taking the glass of water he offers you and downing it.

“Get yourself dressed, then we’ll go see Dr. Keller.” He says, pushing himself up to stand.

“Yes, sir.” You nod again, letting out a yawn.

“If you’re not up in ten minutes, I’ll be forced to make you get up.” He says, giving you a playful smirk before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Your face warms again at his words. You’re half tempted to burrow back under the covers, if only to see if he’d follow through with that threat.

Dr. Keller said it would be a good idea.

You tell yourself that as you stand in Price’s office. The door is closed behind you, sealing you both inside together. His scent is heavy in the air, making your head spin. You wonder how long he’s been sitting at his desk, how long he’s been shut inside today.

“Grab a pillow.” He says, his voice thick and heavy. He sounds tired, and you wonder how much he slept last night. If he slept at all.

Your slippers make a scuffing sound as you shuffle over to the couch, grabbing the pillow you had used last time. You move over to him as he leans back in the chair, taking your spot next to him. You sit back on your heels, letting out a breath as you try and relax. His hand strokes the back of your head, giving you a moment to adjust to his touch before he slides it down to the back of your neck.

You fight the instinctual urge to protect yourself, stopping your shoulders from lifting to try and force his hand away. You’re still not quite used to it, the vulnerability making your omega squirm, especially after the events that took place yesterday.

You know you can trust Price, but your omega wants to bristle at everything right now. Perhaps you’re picking up on Price’s own exhaustion, his own stress bleeding into you.

His fingers press into your neck and your body relaxes almost immediately. Your mind begins to clear, and you feel as if you’re floating away from your body. All the emotions and the stress and the soreness in your body fades as you relax into Price’s hold. Warmth begins to flood your body as your omega finally settles, nearly preening as your alpha takes control, taking the weight of the world off your shoulders.

You can’t see Price’s gaze on you as he watches you kneel for him, lost in his own thoughts. How easily you relax for him, how trusting you are of him in this moment. You’re putting your entire being in his hands and trusting him with it, even though you’re practically still strangers. It hasn’t even been three full weeks since your arrival in their lives and already so much has happened. It feels like things are moving so quickly, but he knows they could move faster.

If he were a worse man, a worse alpha, he would have claimed you already. Taken what was his to take and cared little for you and your needs.

He’s not going to be that kind of alpha. He decided that a long time ago, long before you came into the picture.

You fall into him limply as he eases his hand from your neck, letting you rest against him and breathe in his scent. Your nose presses into his neck, your warm little breaths causing goosebumps to form on his skin. A quiet sound rumbles in your chest as you press closer to him, getting louder as you breathe him in.

You’re...purring.

Pride wells within him again. You’re comfortable enough to purr around him. He did that. He made you feel safe and comfortable enough to open up that much.

He slips his arms around you, rising from the floor to move to the couch. You continue to purr, the sound vibrating through you and straight to his inner alpha. The sound begins before he can stop it, his own chest vibrating as he answers your purr with one of his own.

He holds you close to his chest, purring contently as you slowly drift off in your relaxed state. Eventually your purrs die off as sleep takes you, but he continues to sit there, his own purrs vibrating in his chest as if they can reach through and soothe you even in your sleep.

“Too tight?”

You move your wrists, pulling slightly at the restraints. “No.” You shake your head.

“Good.” He runs a hand over your head, tugging at the vest, making sure it’s secured before he steps back. “Alright?”

You nod, shifting slightly in the wooden chair. “Yes, sir.”

“Remember, it’ll be fast and intense, but they’ll take good care of you. Don’t forget to play it up a bit. It’s good to know if they can focus in this situation.” Price says, running his hand over your head again. “And I’ll be watching the entire time.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he leaves the room, the beta outside the door pulling it closed behind him. You tug at the restraints habitually, even though you could get out of them easily. Just like you could get out of the vest strapped to your chest and the chair you’re sitting in easily.

Hostage rescue training was not how you expected to spend your Thursday morning, but you suppose there are worse things you could be doing besides being restrained in a chair with a fake bomb strapped to your chest.

Price had told you about their training yesterday. You hadn’t expected to hear about how you were going to play hostage when he summoned you to his office, but it had been far too formal a request to be something simple. You had been hesitant when he explained, but the risk was small. They weren’t using live bullets, and the bomb strapped to your chest was hardly more than a bunch of wires and a timer counting down. Price had even ensured the restraints weren’t too tight, and had shown you how to slip out of them easily.

The worst part had been your mind running rampant while he secured the rope around your wrists.

You hear the distant sound of the helicopter dropping them off, the entire mood in the house shifting. The betas outside have a role to play, and so do you.

The sound of the door outside getting kicked in makes you jump, your heart rate kicking up. You know it’s them, you know it’s fake, yet you can’t help but let the emotions in the moment get to you.

They don’t know it’s you they’re rescuing.

Price hadn’t told them you were involved. He wanted to see if they could keep their heads in a situation like this. It’s important to know. Gives them something to work on if they can’t.

You hear the pop of the fake guns outside the door before two solid thuds shake the door in front of you. You hold your breath, your fingers shaking in the excitement and adrenaline as the door flies open. You flinch out of instinct, blinking at them as the three enter the room. It suddenly seems smaller with them in it, their surprise not lost to you, even in the tenseness of the situation. You know you’re scent is thick in the room, cutting through the trained laser focus in their minds as they run through a drill they’ve probably done countless times.

Something they’ve probably done in real life situations as well.

“Easy, sunshine.” Soap says, kneeling down in front of you. “Gonna get ye out of here.”

“You can defuse that, right?” Gaz asks, standing behind him. You know they’re both trained in demolitions. You remember that from their files.

“Course I can.” Soap says, looking at the wires.

The timer starts beeping in warning, your heart rate picking up instinctively. There wasn’t anything that would actually explode if he failed, but you can’t help the chill of fear settling in as he messes with the wires.

“Come on, Johnny.” Ghost says from behind you.

“I got it.” Soap growls out, sweat beading on his forehead.

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Time seems to slow as he studies the wires, the timer continuing to beep as it counts down. Even though you’re not in any danger, you still feel the fear welling inside you. He does know what he’s doing, he wouldn’t be in this position in the first place if he didn’t. Yet you can see the struggle, the hesitation, the uncertainty in his gaze.

He wouldn’t let you die, right?

“Ten seconds.” Gaz warns.

“Johnny?” You breathe, voice cracking as you meet his bright blue eyes.

He mutters a curse before cutting one of the wires. The tenseness in the room is palpable for a moment as all four of you hold your breath. The silence is loud, the timer on the fake bomb sitting still at six seconds. Soap’s head falls forward to rest against your chest as he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re shaking, fingers trembling as Ghost cuts the rope around your wrists.

“Hostage secure.” Gaz says into their comms.

“I wasnae gonna let ye die, sunshine.” Soap says, removing the vest from your body.

“Kinda felt like it.” You murmur as he helps you out of the chair, your legs shaking a bit from the adrenaline.

“Come on.” Ghost says as soon as Soap has you on your feet. “Captain’s waiting.”

Your legs still feel unsteady as you follow them out of the building and across the grass, hand clutched tightly in Soap’s. The fabric of his glove is rough against your skin, but you can still feel the warmth of his hand in yours. You lean against his side as you reach Price across the field, not missing the way his gaze scans you head to toe quickly before he addresses the others.

“Not bad,” Price says. “And the hostage is in one piece.”

You’re still shaking a little, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “Was kind of fun, actually, getting tied up and stuff.”

Soap and Gaz both let out groans at your words, Ghost rolling his eyes at your cheeky smile. The corner of Price’s lips twitch, and you can’t help but beam with pride at eliciting such a reaction.

“Let’s get back to base, and we’ll go over the specifics.” Price says.

You wind up in the back seat of one of the cars with Soap, his arm draped across the back of the seat. You’re leaning into his side, his fingers brushing your arm every so often as the car drives down the bumpy road.

“Ye called me Johnny.” He says quietly, leaning in closer to you.

You stare up at him. “You were going to let me explode.”

“I was not.” He says, looking offended. “I knew wha’ I was doin’” His brows pinch together, his hand cupping the back of your head. “I would never let anythin’ happen to you.”

“I know.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “At least I hope so. Blowing up is kind of a shitty way to die.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, if it happened that way, ye wouldn’t be goin’ out alone.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Ye can call me Johnny anytime you want.”

You smile, snuggling deeper into his side. “Okay, Johnny.”

Your smile only widens as you pick up the subtle rumbling purr sounding from his chest.

“How are things?”

“Fine.” You shrug, sinking back in the chair.

“I heard you took part in the hostage training. How did that go?” Dr. Keller asks.

“It was fine, kind of intense but also kind of fun.” You shrug again, a smile tugs at your lips. “They didn’t know I was the hostage, so that was fun to see their reactions.”

“Was that reassuring to see them in action and have them pretend to rescue you? I know we’ve talked about that fear briefly.” Dr. Keller says.

“In a way, I guess.” You say. “At least, I know they could do it if they had to. I mean, not that I don’t trust that they couldn’t, but...it’s different.”

“It’s different when it’s someone you care about.” Dr. Keller says. “How are you feeling? I know we talked earlier this week, but distressing is a serious thing to go through.”

“I’m alright.” You say, picking at your jeans. “Not sore anymore. Price called off training for a while to let us both kind of figure things out.”

“Have you spoken to Lieutenant Riley since Monday?” She asks.

You nod. “Yeah. A couple times. I didn’t accept his apology, not that he really said sorry directly, but he at least...explained some things.”

“And it is totally within your right to not forgive him.” Dr. Keller says. “I applaud you for putting up that boundary. I know it’s not easy, but sometimes people need to work to prove themselves again.” She makes herself comfortable on the couch, staring at you. “How have you been aside from all the excitement? Have you started nesting yet?”

You shake your head, biting your lip. “No. I-I feel more comfortable now that I have things for my room, but...I still don’t feel like nesting.”

Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she writes something down. “What do you think is causing this hesitance in your instincts?”

Your mouth opens in surprise at her question, not quite expecting it. You had spoken last week about things you might be able to do to help if you weren’t nesting by now. You had expected to start throwing out ideas in that regard, not that you would be digging into why.

“I’d like you to be honest with me. Remember this conversation will only ever be between us. No one else is going to hear this, no one else will ever see my notes. It’s just you and me.” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees as she stares at you. “Would you have chosen to be in a place like this, if it were up to you?”

“It wasn’t up to me. It never was.” You say, starting to sweat nervously a bit. It’s getting warm in the office.

“I know, but hypothetically speaking. If you had the option to choose, would you have chosen a place like this? A military pack?”

You stare at your hands, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You wouldn’t have. You know that, you’ve thought about it over and over. You wouldn’t have put yourself in this position. You would have gone as far from the military and politics as you could have, had it been up to you. You want something quiet and easy with an alpha that loves you and takes care of you. Not...not this.

You’re crying. You can’t stop the tears that are trailing down your cheeks. You feel guilty for thinking that way. It’s not your choice, it would have never been your choice. You’re supposed to be a good omega and be okay going wherever you’re told to, with whatever pack picks you.

They hadn’t chosen you.

They hadn’t wanted you here. Price had fought against your addition to their pack up until you arrived. You know Ghost has his own opinions about your presence here. They had been told they were getting an omega and you had been told you were going to be that omega.

Would they have chosen you?

You wouldn’t have wanted them to.

Dr. Keller says your name quietly, her tone sympathetic as you sit there and cry. You’re crying for the life you were supposed to have, the life you could have had, the many things that would have been different had you just been a good pup and presented like you were supposed to.

“I don’t want to be here.” You sob, burying your face into your hands.

You feel guilty, admitting it, even if it is the truth. Your pack has been nothing but kind and supportive, aside from the incident earlier this week. You like them, all things considered. You can imagine yourself being happy with them. Was it what you wanted, though? Was this where you would have elected to spend the rest of your life?

No.

“Can you tell me why?” Dr. Keller asks softly.

Her question only makes you cry harder. You could. You could tell her exactly why. You don’t want to bring up those feelings, those memories, those emotions. You want to leave them behind in the past, buried under everything you learned that made you such a good omega. It would ruin everything, if that got out, if those feelings came to light again.

Your breaths are coming in gasps as you sob, Dr. Keller rising from the couch. She grabs a stuffed animal from her closet, walking back over to you. She eases it into your arms, pressing it against your chest.

“Squeeze. It will help.” She directs you, dropping to a knee beside you. “This has something to do with the military, doesn't it?” She says softly, putting a hand on your back. “I know your father served and you spent most of your childhood on bases. Was there something that happened?”

You take deep breaths, squeezing the bear against your chest as tight as you can. “I can’t.” You sob, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

“Okay.” She says, gently rubbing your back. “That’s okay. Deep breaths.”

You continue to breathe, trying to calm the tears. Dr. Keller continues to rub your back, trying to ensure you don't slip into distress again. The calming beta scent floods your nose, reaching back into your brain to calm the turmoil.

Slowly your breaths begin to even out, and the tears slow to a stop. You’re still clutching the stuffed bear to your chest, arms wrapped around it tight.

“You’re doing a good job.” Dr. Keller says, grabbing a box of tissues for you. “You’re handling this whole situation better than I think a lot of omegas would. But, that doesn’t mean you have to be okay with it. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t struggling a bit. You don’t have to tell me everything, you don’t have to tell me anything. It’s all up to you. I just want you to know that I’m not going to judge you for anything, and I’m not going to tell anyone anything. I’m here for you, and you alone.”

You slowly release your grip on the bear, your hands still shaking a bit. Dr. Keller moves back to the couch as you stare down at the plastic eyes, running your fingers over its soft fur.

“I do think it would be a good idea to address the nesting issue sooner rather than later.” Dr. Keller says, still speaking softly. “We don’t have to get into the why until you feel comfortable enough to, but you need a nest before your heat starts. I have a couple exercises in mind to help maybe jumpstart those instincts, but we’ll need Captain Price in on this issue as well for them to work. I can speak for him on your behalf, if you’d like. I won’t tell him any details.” She says as your eyes dart up to look at her. “Only that there’s a nesting issue and there’s some exercises I’d like the two of you to try.”

You let your gaze drop back to the bear. You know you need to start nesting, and with your heat rapidly approaching, you’re beginning to be pressed for time. Your heat could start as soon as next week and if you don’t have a nest...

“I guess that’s fine.” You say, staring back down at the bear in your hands. “If you think he can help.”

Dr. Keller nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think he can.”

“Thank you for meeting with me, Captain Price.” Dr. Keller says as they take a seat in her office. “I just wanted to preface this conversation by saying I was given permission to discuss this with you, because we both agree you should be made aware of what’s going on.” Dr. Keller shuffles her notes as Price sits there, back straight in the chair. “Frankly, if I’m being honest, I’m starting to get a little concerned about my patient.”

“Concerned about what?” Price asks, brows pinching.

“She’s not having nesting instincts.” Dr. Keller watches Price’s face as she speaks. “Even with what you did for her, buying her things to make her more comfortable, she’s not getting that urge to make a nest. I know you’re aware that’s a crucial piece of a successful heat, and with that looming ever closer, I’m worried about her.”

“What do you think is causing it?” Price asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’m not sure, yet. I did promise I wouldn’t reveal any details about anything, but I do feel comfortable saying, as I’m sure you have figured out, there’s a lot of trauma behind that institute taught, if I may be so frank, bullshit.”

The corner of Price’s mouth twitches. “Not a fan of institutes?”

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “No. I’m not. There’s many professionals that share the same sentiment. They’re hardly the nurturing and cultivating places they present themselves to be, though I’m sure you’re figuring that out yourself. It’s always been about control and profit. The current model most of them use is outdated and has been proven in study to be highly ineffective. There are some places here in Europe that are beginning to reform institutes and what they teach, taking a more omega-centric approach, instead of just priming them for future alphas and packs.”

“Can it be undone, the things she was taught?” He asks, purely out of curiosity. “The way she thinks about herself?”

“I think so, to a degree.” Dr. Keller answers. “You’re already seeing it a bit. She’s already having her beliefs and understanding challenged. Supporting her through that will be an important step in your bonding. The best thing you can do is support her and prove her institute taught beliefs wrong. I think you’re doing a fantastic job already, as is she.”

“What can we do about the nesting?” He asks.

“I have a couple exercises in mind I’d like to try. I’ve used one in practice before in a different situation. It was at one of the institutes I worked at after I was certified as an omega specialist. Two omegas were brought in off the streets. I can’t give too many details but they’d been through something very traumatic and had bonded intensely with each other. They couldn’t be separated at all without slipping into near distress. Of course, institutes don’t allow those kinds of bonds as it’s hard on the omegas when they reach selection age. So, we did an exercise where I had both scent a stuffed animal and then gave them each other’s so they’d have something tangible to focus on. Then we started slowly working on separation, using those stuffed animals so they could keep the scent of the other close. It worked, eventually they were able to be apart. I’d like to try the same thing, but to the opposite effect. I’d like you to scent a stuffed animal so it can be used as a sort of symbol, something tangible she can use to represent you.”

“A way to introduce me into her nest without having me there invading her space.” Price says.

“Exactly.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Having an alpha’s scent around her might help induce not only that feeling of comfort she needs, but may also help induce those instincts to nest. Doing it this way prevents the risk of discomfort by having an alpha invading her space directly, while still allowing for the introduction of an alpha’s scent.”

“Alright. What else do you think might help?” Price asks, running his hand over his beard.

“Another exercise, this one more tactile in nature. This particular one she can do herself, though she may choose to involve you later as she gets more comfortable doing it. I know she’s kneeling for you already, which is fantastic. Some omegas don’t kneel until after being claimed. That she feels comfortable enough to do it already is a good sign. She’s already had these exercises explained to her, but I would like to meet with you both to walk through them again, and in the end, it’s her decision what happens.” Dr. Keller gives him a small smile. “Do you have any questions?”

“What can be done if these exercises don’t work?” Price asks.

“There are a couple other things that can be done, though they’re far more invasive. I wouldn’t even suggest them unless she’s showing clear signs of pre-heat symptoms and still hasn’t nested yet. They have their risks, and that’s not something I’m willing to gamble on unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Price hums quietly. “Is there anything I could be doing differently to help?”

“I think you’re both doing fantastic jobs with the hand you’ve been dealt. It’s not an easy situation and the fact she’s made as much progress as she has is remarkable, honestly. My job’s been fairly easy so far. I was expecting a lot worse when Laswell briefed me. That being said, there’s still a long way to go.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Price says, shaking her hand. “You’ve been a big help.”

“It is my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Remember, I’m always here if you have any questions or concerns. I may be an Omega Specialist, but that also includes the omega’s pack as well.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Price says, giving her a smile. “And I’ll be sure to tell your brother you said hello.”

Dr. Keller smirks, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah, remind him to call his sister every once in a while, while you’re at it.”

You run your fingers over the soft fur of the teddy bear. Your eyes flutter closed as you let Price’s scent wash over you. You clutch the bear to your chest, wrapping your arms around it tightly as you lounge on your bed. You bury your nose in its fur, breathing in Price’s earthy scent from it.

A quiet sound begins to rumble in your chest as you hug the bear tightly. A small, content smile pulls at your lips as you curl up in a ball around the bear, purring quietly.

It’s been so long since you purred.

You haven’t since you were a pup, still young enough to find safety in your home, before you really understood much of anything that was going on. You only ever purred with your mother, snuggled up in the nest with your siblings, warm and content and safe.

Your dad never purred. Or, you never heard him do it. You remember the deep growls that rumbled through his chest, the scent of ozone. The warning that made you bristle, even as a pup, that tickling feeling at the back of your neck almost like your brain knew years before you even presented.

You wrap your arms tighter around the bear, letting Price’s scent flood your mind and wipe away the fear, the feelings, the emotions mixing together. Price isn’t like that. He was so willing to help you, to jump in and do what it took to make the best of a situation that neither of you had a say in. Just an alpha and an omega bound to duty, forced to follow what someone else says. How very much alike your lives are, and yet, so vastly different.

That’s why you’ve found comfort in him so quickly, you think. You understand him. He may be a captain, he may be pack alpha, he may be a leader, but he’s not in control. Not completely. There’s still someone behind the scenes, pulling the strings, telling him where to go, what to do. Someone’s pointing him in a direction and it’s his duty to follow.

You were never going to be in control. You were born a subordinate, and you had been cursed to always be one by your presentation. Your entire life would be dictated for you, by someone telling you what to be, how to act, where to go, what to do. There would always be expectations for you, someone behind the scenes pulling the strings.

Your presence here is full of expectation. You weren’t just bonding with a pack as your duty, there was expectation for it. You had been sent here with a purpose, leading an initiative that could shape the future of many omegas to come. You’re not just an omega chosen by a pack that wants one.

You’re part of a government initiative. Your whole purpose is to see if adding an omega to a pack of highly trained soldiers really will improve their effectiveness and proficiency.

Falling in love with them is just a side effect of your own mission.

Love might be a strong word for it. It wouldn’t matter to those watching your progress if you hated them. You’re supposed to bond with them, be their omega. Prove that it’s worth it, that the strengths weigh out the potential vulnerabilities. Then hundreds of omegas stuck in institutes will be trained to follow in your footsteps.

You wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

You’re lucky they’ve been so good to you. You’re lucky you’re beginning to feel it, those spaces in the back of your mind that have been empty for years beginning to fill as your omega comes to accept her pack. The betas anchoring your omega, the alphas surrounding and protecting.

You'll do your duty. You'll bond with them. You'll mate with Price. You'll allow him to claim you. You'll be their good little omega.

It won't be the worst life.

They at least care about you. Gaz and Soap have shown interest in you and mating with you themselves. Ghost...you've got a long way to go with him still, but you're beginning to make some headway into earning his acceptance.

Price...Price has begun to show some interest as well. You've knelt for him, kissed him, allowed him into your space. He calmed your distress, bought you items to help make your space more comfortable. He scented a stuffed bear to help you nest.

He'll treat you nicely, or at least you hope he will. He'll lose himself to his rut when you go into heat, and you've heard plenty of horror stories. You know what to expect, from the best to the worst. You could come out the other side mated and content, or you could come out half mauled to death. There's no way of knowing. Price will be a slave to his instincts just as much as you will be.

You don't want it to be like that.

You don't want your first encounter with the opposite sex to be lost to the haze of your heat, something that could potentially put your life at risk. How long has it been since Price has had an omega? You know he has. He's too calm, too collected around you to never have had experience with one before.

Will he treat you well? How will he touch you? You can't imagine him as being a selfish lover, but you won't know. You won't know until you're dazed with lust as your body yearns for release, for an alpha's knot.

You could find out beforehand.

The thought has you sitting up in your bed. You could pursue that with Price before your heat starts. There's no rule that says you can't before your heat. You know there's omegas that don't wait. There's alphas that don't wait when omegas join their packs. Price could have taken you that first day if he really wanted to.

Would he have bent you over his desk? Done it in his room or yours? Would he have done it in the meeting room in front of the rest of the pack? Staked his claim like some primal alpha?

The thought has warmth pooling in your stomach. The mental image of Price taking you in front of the others, sinking his teeth into your neck as he stakes his claim, marking you as his.

“Fuck.” You breathe, clenching your thighs together.

You could ask. What's the worst he's going to say? No? You'll just retreat in shame and hide out until your heat begins in embarrassment. He was so willing to do what you wanted, what you asked of him. Would he say yes if you asked him? If that's really what you wanted? Does he want it? Does he want you?

All you have to do is ask. You're allowed to want things, to desire things. Everything you've asked for so far, you've gotten.

The heat between your legs only confirms it. You want this.

You want Price.

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door handle. He had given you permission to enter already, but your nerves make it feel like you’re moving in slow motion as you wrap your fingers around the nob, turning and pushing inwards. His eyes are on you as you slip in, closing the door behind you. You can’t read his face as he sits there, staring at you in your baggy shirt and leggings.

“What’s eating you, pup?” He asks as he stares at you, watching you fidget nervously.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You say, shifting your weight between your feet.

He reaches out a hand, motioning you closer. You approach his desk slowly, taking his outstretched hand. He guides you in front of him, lifting you to sit on the desk. He leans back in his seat, staring up at you. “You can ask me anything.”

You bite your lip, staring down at him. His hands come to rest on the edge of the desk on either side of you. It’s comforting, supportive, instead of constricting as it might have felt just two weeks ago. It only furthers your belief that you’re making the right choice, that this is what you want.

You stare down into his eyes, your hands coming to rest just beside his on the desk. “I want my first time with you to be before my heat.” The words come spilling out quickly, almost so quickly you’re not sure he caught them.

He stares at you, surprise flickering across his face for a moment before he’s back to the straight-faced captain again. “You’re sure?”

You nod. “I want to remember the first time. It’ll make me feel better after we...have to do it. I think...it’ll help me feel less like...I had to.”

Price moves just slightly closer to you, understanding shining in his eyes. “If that's what you really want.”

You nod, sliding your hands until they're resting on top of his. “It is.”

He turns his hands so can hold yours. “Saturday, then. Let me make you dinner and then we'll go from there.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, skin tingling as his thumbs rub the backs of your hands. “You want to wine and dine me first?” You ask playfully.

“Call me old fashioned.” He smirks.

“Maybe just old.” You mutter, shrieking out a laugh as he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into his lap. The chair creaks precariously but you know he'd break your fall.

“You want to take that back?” He murmurs, your face inches from his.

“Depends on what my punishment will be.” You say, your nose almost brushing his.

He chuckles deep in his chest, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “You'll have to wait for Saturday to find out.”

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod fic #poly tf 141 #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #x reader #tf 141 x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 days

Text

deliveries

words: 1.2k

warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr

“can i say no?” you sigh.

“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.

“i didn't. my- my ex did.”

“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.

you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.

you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.

you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.

you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.

you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.

“stop sending me things.”

“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”

“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.”

“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”

you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.

“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”

“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”

“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.

“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”

you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.

“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”

“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”

“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”

you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.

you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.

“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.

“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”

“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”

the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.

you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.

“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.

it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.

rafe

p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months

you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.

“you know you can't buy my love, right?”

“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”

you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.

“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”

“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.

“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”

“ill go wherever you want.”

“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.

you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.

you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.

rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.

“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.

“i am.” you nod.

“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”

you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut.

“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.

“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.

“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.

he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.

“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.

“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.

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mariespen · 3 months

Text

I know ⋆ ﾟ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader ₊✩ˎˊ˗ summary: your eldest daughter, Ellie, gets into a fight at school. warnings: mention of slight injury

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You checked the time on the kitchen clock, looking over your shoulder and making sure that you were on schedule. You needed to leave to pick up your two kids from school by 3:25 to avoid traffic. You wanted to go shopping before picking them up because your oldest, Ellie, needed some new winter clothes. No one told you that picking up your kids would need this much planning, even after your husband insisted on sending them to a prestigious private school.

Speaking of your husband, at 1:15 he pulled into the garage. You rolled your eyes, only half annoyed.

“Hi, baby.” He said with a smile, walking into the house with his dress clothes, straight from work.

“Late lunch?” You asked as he came up to you, holding your hips and pulling you closer to him.

“Just left early.” He said, grinning and kissing you gently.

“Rafe..” You said, kissing him back.

Your husband, Rafe Cameron, was the CEO of Cameron Enterprises, so he was pretty lenient with his duties. The surprise visits had gotten more common after he hired a new assistant, which freed him up time to be with his wife and two girls.

His body towered over you as he kissed your neck and down to your shoulder, his hands moving to grab your ass.

“So perfect..” He mumbled the compliment, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“Baby.. I gotta get to the shops. Ellie needs a new coat.” You said, pulling away and looking up at him with a sad smile.

“I’ll go with you.” He announced, setting his briefcase and coat down on the kitchen island before walking to the door.

You giggled, grabbing your purse and the keys to your white Porsche SUV. Rafe waited for you at the door, smiling and holding it open for you as you walked out. He gave you a look as you got into the driver's seat, hesitantly sliding into the passenger’s seat beside you. You rolled your eyes playfully and started the car, driving off.

About 15 minutes later, you turned into a small outlet mall. Putting the car into park, the two of you got out. He started to walk to the more designer stores and you rolled your eyes.

“Rafe, she’s 11. The last thing she needs is designer.” You said with a giggle, pulling his arm to an Urban Outfitters. Rafe looked at you, a confused frown on his face as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. After picking out a nice coat to keep her warm enough, the two of you started to walk back to the car. You looked around, seeing a small cafe and looking at Rafe with doe eyes. He looked at you expectantly, smiling at your face.

“Rafe can we-“ You started, interrupted by Rafe intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Of course, m’lady.” He said, smiling and kissing the top of your head as the two of you walked.

Your phone rang from your purse and you stopped, confused. Your personal phone doesn’t normally ring unless it was Rafe or your girls and your face knitted with concern as you rummaged for it. After pulling it out, you saw that it was the school. You frowned, looking back at Rafe’s equally confused expression.

“One second..” You mumbled, picking it up.

Your eyes shot up when the administrator requested your presence at the school office.

“Why? What happened?” You asked and Rafe leaned down, trying to hear as much of the conversation that he could through your phone.

“Ellie had an.. incident with a boy in her grade.” The woman on the phone said cautiously.

“Is she okay? What happened?” You repeated, worry and anxiety growing in your chest for your eldest daughter.

“Mrs. Cameron, Ellie got into a physical altercation with another boy in her class.” Rafe looked at you with an equal, but more subtle, amount of worry.

“I’ll be right there, thank you.” You said quietly, hanging up the phone.

“What? What happened?” Rafe asked and you turned around, heading away from the cafe and back to the car with him close on your heels.

“Ellie got into a fight, they want us there.” You said, your breathing picking up.

Rafe held your hand, trying to sooth your incoming panic. He was still a bit confused, but he took the keys from you and opened the passenger side door, insisting that he would drive the two of you back.

“What did they say?” He asked, his eyes flicking back from you to the road every so often.

“She got into a ‘physical altercation with a boy in her grade.’” You said, quoting it directly with a lightly mocking tone.

Rafe’s face was still serious, but his facade was cracking with his concern for Ellie.

The two of you pulled up to the school about an hour before the final bell would ring. Rafe walked in first, storming into the office, preparing to demand answers. His face dropped when he saw his precious girl with a bloody nose and blossoming black eye. Your gaze followed his and you gasped, beating him to Ellie.

“Baby what happened?” You asked, touching her eye gently as she winced.

“Who did this, Ellie?” Rafe’s booming voice asked from behind you, his expression deep with anger.

You watched your daughter’s eyes glare across the room. You turned, seeing a young boy with an ice pack to his head, his condition significantly worse than hers. You looked at her, eyes wide. Rafe sprung up, demanding answers right as the woman you spoke to on the phone came out of the principal’s office.

“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron.” She said, showing you to the principal’s office. You left a quick kiss on Ellie’s cheek before walking behind Rafe and entering the small room.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron.” The principal said, his face pale at the sight of your husband’s outrage.

“What the fuck happened?” Rafe asked, nearly yelling. You put a warning hand on his knee, silently telling him to take it down a notch. Naturally, he eyed you with a quiet ‘no.’

“According to the witnesses, Ellie started a fight with a young boy in her class during lunch.” The principal said with a sigh, shuffling a few pages of paperwork to the top of a stack.

“That can’t be the full story.” You said, leaning forward, as if to urge him on.

“That’s the part that I need to look at. Unfortunately, there are some severe consequences for this-“ You rolled your eyes, listening to him talk before Rafe got up suddenly, leaving the office.

You started to hesitantly stand up after him, sitting back down and trying to stay calm. You watched the door as it opened again, Rafe walking back in with Ellie’s hand in his.

“Let’s hear the full story.” Rafe said, gesturing for Ellie to sit in the seat that he was in previously as he resumed a stance at the door of the closed office.

You looked at your daughter, putting a gentle hand on her leg as you waited for her to start explaining. Her gaze met the principal’s, staring him down.

“Gabe said that my mom was a gold digger and that she doesn’t really love my dad.” Ellie said, her little voice raising as she continued, “And I told him to shut up and he said ‘do something about it.’ So I did.” She finished with her arms crossed.

God, she had so much of Rafe’s attitude that it almost made you wince.

You were astonished, your mouth wide. Rafe was quiet at the door and you didn’t make eye contact with him, not wanting to see how this would turn out.

“What?” You asked her, looking at Ellie and then the principal, “Did she tell you this?”

“I did!” Ellie interrupted and you gave her a knowing look and she slumped back into her chair.

You heard Rafe moving closer to the desk and you looked up at him as he stood behind you. His face was red with anger as he looked at the principal.

“What consequences will you have for him, huh?” He asked, his stance intimidating as the principal collected himself while Rafe kept going, “My kid got beat up too, what’s going to happen about that?” He said, pointing to the blood drying on Ellie’s nose.

Ellie nodded, her little arms still crossed. Rafe shifted so he was between you and your daughter. The three of you looked at the principal expectantly.

“From what we know as of right now, Gabe was simply defending himself-“ “Bullshit!” Ellie interrupted and you looked at her, warning her to be more careful. Of course, Rafe nodded along with her.

“We will review the classroom footage and determine an appropriate punishment.” The principal stated, eager to get this over with. Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I will give you a call. Thank you.” He said and Rafe helped you up and out of your chair.

His arm protectively wrapped around Ellie and the three of you walked out without another word. When you passed through the office, you could see both Rafe and Ellie staring daggers into the little boy, still holding an ice pack to his head. Rafe’s protective hold on Ellie didn’t let up until he opened the door for her to get into the car, opening yours as well. He got into the driver's seat and you sat quietly, knowing one of them would say something soon.

Without a word, Rafe turned and looked back at your daughter who was fidgeting nervously. He smiled slightly, holding his hand up for a high-five. You rolled your eyes playfully, watching as her face lit up and she high-fived him without hesitation.

“Rafe!” You said, trying to stifle your smile.

“What?” He said, putting his hands up in surrender. He put the car in drive as Ellie smiled to herself.

“Ellie, you shouldn’t get into fights at school. Especially not over dumb things like that.” You said, trying to sound serious and stern.

“Mom, that's not fair!” Ellie said, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“Your mom’s right, Ellie.” Rafe said, knowing you desperately needed backup. You listened expectantly, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. He offered you a shrug and kept driving the way back to the house.

You got out, watching as Rafe opened Ellie’s door and picked her up, grabbing her backpack. You smiled, walking ahead of them.

“Just like your dad.” You heard Rafe say quietly to Ellie, hearing another high-five between the two of them.

You rolled your eyes, giggling at Ellie’s prideful smile.

“Go get changed, love.” You told her as Rafe sat her down.

She went upstairs to her room and you looked at Rafe, watching him try incredibly hard to stop himself from smiling.

“She’s too much like you.” You said with a huff, trying to play off your smile once he breaks and starts laughing.

“Looks like we’re raising them right.” Rafe said, kissing you softly. You rolled your eyes as you felt him smile into the kiss.

“I love you.” You said, your fingers tracing his cheekbone.

“I know.” He said, kissing you again and then pulling away with another breath, “I love you too, pretty lady.”

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