#smut writing

[honeyed-hedonist]

SFW:

Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness

Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate. 

Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways. 

Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways--whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.

Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length

Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.

Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.

Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.

Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”

Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.

NSFW under the cut 18+ NO MINORS.

NSFW:

Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top. 

Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”

Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.

A vocal lover--he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princesa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”

His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him--again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t. 

Big on marking you--with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.

Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel--when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah--you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”

Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)

To be continued…..

#miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #sipderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #smut writing #spiderverse imagine

[gh0vtzb1og]

Me after I pour my heart into a writing for it to get 3 likes

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#cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #gh0vtzb1ogz #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #smut writing #writers on tumblr #writing

[bunnysbrainrot]

Unspoken Rules

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU

Content: Angst, protective Joel, kissing, sexual themes, make out session, size kink (kind of?)

Summary: The day after the town dance, Joel doesn't seem so sentimental for your time together. The emotional rollercoaster leaves you confused. Something is off about him now, and it's taking everything in you to not leave yourself to blame. Finally, Joel tries setting a boundary, but will he hold to it?

[ A/N: For this series, I invite the reader to make up their own backstory for how they end up in Jackson. I'll keep descriptions in the chapters vague, as I didn't want to assign a backstory when it's something people can have such fun with! ]

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep

The gentle chirping of your watch pulls you from sleep, but not without some protest. You groan softly at a headache taking form and begin to regret last night's decisions. Prying an eye open, a green 6:31 AM shines back at you, though the sun hardly shows it through your curtains. A dim lavender sky peeks through instead.

What a nice start to the day, you think to yourself, sighing loudly as you shift to sit up; the rush of movement swells your pesky headache, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Shit," you grumble, rubbing your eyes, "fuckin' mead, man... never again."

And especially never before patrol day.

The thought of riding your horse through rough Wyoming terrain doesn't excite you. Instead, you get the gift of an unsettled stomach, but pull yourself out of bed nonetheless.

••••

"Good morning!"

Your neighbor's cheerful greeting rings in your head, but you know she means well. She'd been at the dance last night, too, but you didn't get a chance to talk, from what you remember, at least. Giving her a small wave, you force a smile you hope is genuine enough to sell the 'I'm not hungover' act.

The food stall is desolate, to your relief, save for the man running it. You seem him every time you stop by, though neither of you have exchanged names, but he has memorized your order already. His eyes shine genuinely when he hands you your food.

"It's good to see you again," the man says, "welcome to Jackson."

You smile appreciatively and take the sandwich, giving him a brief thanks before heading off. He provides breakfast for the patrol groups, but never wants anything in return. Maybe you could repay him, somehow, you think. Mulling it over, you tear into the sandwich while you make your way to the stables. The thick, earthy smell of hay wafts past, and the sputtering of horses sounds ahead.

Rounding the corner reveals today's patrol group - it's evidently much smaller than last time.

Joel doesn't turn when your footsteps approach. You spot the beautiful mare you'd ridden last patrol, Belle, occupied with a bucket of hay. She huffs loudly when you meet her, angling her head to look at you, before resuming her breakfast. Joel silently adjusts a hefty saddle onto his horse nearby. Clinking of metal clasps fills the silence before Joel breaks it.

"How's the hangover?"

There's a terseness in his tone, as if forcing a conversation he doesn't want to have. He doesn't turn to you when he asks the question.

You pause for a beat, "Kicking my ass a little."

Joel nods once, "Been there."

This Joel isn't the same man you danced with last night, this version doesn't remember, or simply doesn't care. Nothing from last night was special enough to hold onto today. Shame starts to sink in your uneasy stomach. So he really did mean it, when he called himself a fool for dancing with you.

"Where are we meeting up with the rest of the group?"

A casual tone masks the pain blooming in your chest, and the tears that prick your eyes. You wouldn't dare let them fall in front of Joel. He shouldn't know how much last night meant to you, even if he wouldn't bat an eye at your tears. It seems like last night's biggest mistake was thinking that he, somehow, was true to his actions. When his lips were brushing against your neck, hovering over your ear, before his tone had gone seductively darker.

"Just us today. Smaller groups help cover more ground."

It feels like an invisible string is pulled between you when he speaks, growing more taught with each bated breath and expressionless comment. You come to notice that Belle is already donning her saddle and gear, a task you hadn't done yourself.

Glancing at Joel, you hesitate, "Thank you for getting Belle ready."

Finally, he turns from his horse's saddle and shifts attention to you. A steely look in his eyes reprimands you without words. It didn't seem like a favor. He'd done your work for you.

"Saddling up is the boring part. Not as tricky as it looks, though. I'll ask Maria to show you how," he offers dismissively.

It’s a nice gesture, but the Maria part begins to register. He won’t show you, or doesn't want to spend time alone with you after what transpired last night. Confusion lingers in the back of your mind - Joel invited you to dance, and now it's as if you've never held a conversation before.

You nod, "Sounds good to me."

Even though it was not, in fact, good at all. Maybe last night really was some drunken mistake, but it wouldn't make sense of Joel's demeanor now.

Why did he look like he had something else to say?

••••

"Pretty day today," Joel states.

Sunlight streaks between distant mountain peaks, painting the morning fog with a breathtaking display of orange and yellow. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how it casts a golden halo around Joel's salt and pepper hair, highlighting its warmer browns. He turns to his saddle bag, giving you a glimpse of his face; the sunlight works wonders. He's warmer and brighter... there's more life to him.

Joel gestures to one of the peaks ahead, "See that mountain over there? The shorter one to the right - we stop at the base of it. On the way out there, we're on lookout, gettin' rid of any stragglers. At the turn-around point we'll rest, and the trip back is supply pickup, in case we find anything."

You clear your throat, carrying on, "Got it... Must be a long route, hm?"

"At an average pace, 'bout two hours or so. If you're bookin' it, you could do it in less than one."

The talking is helpful when it's useful information, but anything else reminds you of last night, of that version of Joel. When he was in such stark contrast to this gruff personality, and if you were being honest, it had intrigued you. Pulled you in deeper.

In fact, from the moment you saw him, he caught your eye. On that chilly morning, where you stood timid and anxious amidst the crowd, something clicked in place when he'd briefly turned to you.

A certain roughness in his look told you that something, many things, has roughed him around the edges over the years. You couldn't tell his age, but you could assume that he witnessed the fall of everything. Back then, the world crumbled with the rise of the infection, its haunting mortality rate, and there was no hope of it being stopped after it had begun. You wondered what Joel's life had been before he ended up in Jackson - how his 'regular life' was, back when the world made more sense.

His accent is distinctly and seductively Southern, one you could listen to for hours. Clearly he isn't from around here - any kind of travel across so much terrain isn't an easy task, and it would take months at a steady pace.

So how the hell did he wind up in Jackson?

Joel reaches for a canteen of water, unscrewing the top and tossing his head back, taking in a few deep gulps. His jaw twitches as he drinks greedily, and follows it with a low, satisfied sigh when he's finished. The sound casts you into a void of unholy thoughts. Something tightens in your core, a feeling that, you now realize, you haven't had in months. Years, maybe.

Effortlessly, Joel shines light on an emotion you hadn't addressed to even yourself: a primal need for something.

••••

With the exception of picking off the straggling infected, the patrol is continuing quite smoothly. The sun is slowly inching its way across the sky, keeping you comfortably warm in a gentle breeze that relieves your dull headache. Now, Joel leads you down a path veering toward an open stretch of pasture at the base of the mountain. Peering ahead, you see the trail reach its end at the start of the field, and beyond spans into a sea of rolling hills that takes your breath away.

"How you doin' back there?" Joel asks.

"Still good," you reassure him.

He nods his head toward a fence far off in the pasture, "We go to the edge of the perimeter, then we loop around. We'll take a breather first, though."

You follow in his stead until he reaches the old wooden fence, dismounting his horse, and carefully tying its reigns to a nearby fence post. Dismounting Belle gives your hips and thighs a wave of relief to get some blood flowing again. You head to the fence on unsteady legs, leaning against the weathered wood as another gust of wind rushes by. The cool wind across your skin makes you turn to face its source, tossing your head back to invite its presence at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and the world melts away for a while.

He wishes he could burn this image in his mind. You throwing your head back as the wind blows, entangling itself through your hair, your clothes. That soft smile tugging at your lips has him completely distracted before you let out a happy sigh. A soft, breathy sound that makes his imagination wander, against his better judgement.

After all, last night was a mistake.

The moment Cara had called for your attention, inviting you to join his group, Joel knew the night would end differently than he expected. You wore a shirt that accentuated every area his eyes shouldn't have wandered to, but they did. Across the lot, he'd watched you dance for hours, spinning and twirling and laughing and really, truly, living. He could see a light in you, a fire that couldn't be put out.

But if you're a fire, Joel is gasoline.

"Listen," he starts. He already knows where this is heading, that he's ruined this moment, and that there will be nothing in his power to make it any better.

But he can't let you fall into a delusion. This idea that you want him, yet you have no idea of what's underneath. He can't have you focused on him when there's a whole community to serve. He's doing a service by telling you now, he assures himself.

Nipping it in the bud.

You turn to face him quickly, knowingly. He can tell by your fidgeting hands that you might know what's coming. And he can see it in your wide-eyed expression, still somewhat hopeful. He braced himself to see that face fall.

"What happened last night... ain't my best moment. I didn't hold myself back when I shoulda have, and I..." he straightens, "it can't happen again."

The words come out meaninglessly. Joel speaks, but can't hear himself, his words come from some far-off mental script he'd prepared when he'd gotten home last night. He can see it hit you - the realization, the way your body goes completely still. Your bottom lip trembles slightly, yet you hold a solid smile despite the hurt he sees in your eyes. Your hands have frozen in place, knuckles growing white from gripping them together so tightly.

"I-I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away," you explain.

Your apology is a blow to his gut. Have you been blaming yourself this whole time? As if you could even be at fault. Joel asked you to dance. You were about to go home, and he asked you to stay out of his own selfishness.

He needed that light, that fire. A brightness that only you've possessed, and it had him hooked from the first time you'd spoken, at last patrol. You had strayed away from your position in the party and had wound up next to him. It hadn't registered who had joined him, and before he had the chance to issue a harsh 'stay back', there you were, in complete awe.

Joel remembers it clearly: the way your eyes shone with delight, an infectious smile that for a moment, lifted his spirits. Every patrol was the same. Same people, same routes, over and over and over again with exhausting mundanity. Until you came along.

There was a light about you he could not touch.

In every way you are his opposite. On one hand, Joel is harsh, serious, and doesn't care much about his impact on others, let alone their feelings. You, on the other hand, represent everything Joel could've had for himself - kind, flexible, and you naturally cared for others.

Joel can't seem to remember when he lost that side of himself. He doesn't understand your capacity for kindness in a world this dark.

"You shouldn't be apologizing for anything," he says.

You pause and look toward the ground, wringing your hands again, "I should've just gone home."

If you had, you wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now.

A surge of regret fills his chest. Someone as kind as you doesn't deserve the pain of rejection; you should have someone who cherishes you, who can appreciate your softness without tainting it.

"Why'd you stay?"

There was no use for excuses now.

It's harder to meet his eyes this time, but you want to see his reaction to your answer.

"Because you asked me to dance."

Confusion knits Joel's eyebrows together when he asks, "And that was so special?"

"Yes. Was it not that way for you?"

He opens his mouth to answer, yet he hesitates. The long pause doesn't much to help your confusion, you truly want to know, to hear it from him first. If it wasn't important, it'd be easier to forget it happened in the first place.

It would certainly be easier than an unrequited love. Anything is easier.

"That's not what I said."

"It's implied," you state. Joel averts his gaze to the fence, idly picking at a loose piece of wood. "It's alright if it wasn't, I just... I need to know."

Another beat passes before he gives his answer, at long last. Joel matches your pose from earlier and leans with his back against the fence.

"It was. Special, that is," he says gently. That softness in his voice was greatly missed, and it's a breath of fresh air to hear it once more. "It's just... you're still new here. I don't want you getting distracted-"

"Are you calling yourself a distraction?"

Joel's eyes dart to you, "Am I not?"

You press your lips into a thin line, making his question ultimately rhetorical. He nods once, then turns his head to you. The intensity of his stare demands it to be met, so you meet his eyes and find a playfulness there, a hint of the Joel from last night.

"Am I one?"

"Telling you would just give you ideas," he teases.

You smirk, "So I am."

"The worst kind."

Shifting your weight on your feet reminds you of the soreness in your legs, so you lift your arms, and push yourself onto the top of the fence, dangling your legs over the side. The silence between you now isn't as uncomfortable as earlier. No, this is the silence of anticipation, wondering what or who will give a resolution.

"What about me is so distracting?" You ask.

In place of words, Joel makes his way to you, positioning himself in front of your swinging legs, which now shook a little more than you'd like to admit. He closes the gap with hands on either side of you, gripping the wood beneath his rough fingers.

There's no way to place his expression when he looks at you again.

He replies, voice low and strained, "Everything."

You can't miss it when his eyes wander to your lips, hovering there a moment longer than he needed to. Taking the opportunity you look at his as well - you knew they were soft, but hadn't felt much of them. Need and hunger are all you can feel as you stare.

When his lips meet yours, there's something that tells you that maybe this situation was inevitable. One look at him, and you knew how you felt, and exactly how willing you'd be to take your time with him.

But today, Joel doesn't need time. He knows what he wants.

He groans into your mouth when you move your lips against his - the sound of a starved animal finally getting their fill. It draws a moan from you, matching him in a sweet harmony. There's a gap between you still, that simply isn't enough.

You reach forward in search of the waistband of his jeans, hook your fingers through his belt loops, and tug Joel forward. His mouth crashes into yours once again, skirting his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entry. One at a time, you wrap your legs around Joel's waist and secure yourself tightly against him, gripping at his shoulders with a ferocity you didn't recognize.

It's not as slow as you would've liked him to go, but it's the pace you need. For how long it felt to wait, for how impatient you'd been.

And he knows how to deliver it.

His hands roam carefully around your waist, squeezing and fondling with an avarice that shows he's been waiting just as impatiently. Every caress sets you alight, erupting goosebumps along your arms and neck, which Joel is slowly shifting his attention to.

"Joel," you pant, but it's all you can muster. There's more to the sentence, but his lips stop you. They play at the soft skin below your jaw, suckling gently before his tongue slides along your supple flesh, bringing himself to your ear.

He catches your earlobe between his teeth and bites playfully. Another moan falls past your lips, another breathy utterance of his name. Joel plants a kiss below your ear. You card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

"Careful, pretty girl," says Joel, reaching upward to support your head as it's thrown back in pleasure. He weaves his fingers into your hair for a comfortable grip, and pulls your head back further.

The constriction chokes you, but you smile anyway at the dull pain from where he holds you. With his strength, he has you exactly where he wants you, and can keep you there. The high-pitched moan you sing next has Joel losing his composure, his actions growing sloppier as you continue.

But, to your surprise, he releases you first.

Joel pulls back with a final kiss pressed to your lips again, a deep and savoring one. The back of your head stings from the grip he held on it, though it gives you a rush of adrenaline you won't trade for anything.

The sigh he lets out is one you can recognize, because you're breathing the same one.

This complicates things.

Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a long time to write, and I think it's because it's not smut, and it was very frustrating, so next chapter will have a LOT more (i'm already plotting)

#fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #smut #smut writing #bunny writes

[daze4all]

Sing for Me Sweetly Song Bird Wriothesley x Girlfriend!Reader Smut NSFW

Synopsis: Wriothesley unwraps his present aka his girlfriend for the evening after a long day at work in his office

Tags: NSFW , Smut, Tie play, Powerplay, slight Prisoner x warden play, musician reader!, Childhood friend! Reader, Fluff & Smut, consent, biting, bruising, kissing, third base, orall,, bondage, riding, thigh, mutual groping, possessive, protective, slight soft yandere wrio but mostly fluffy sweet, romabtic sexy. Sugar daddy , Tie bondage , Smut ,Teasing ,Present ,Thigh riding ,Boyfriend girlfriend , Desk sex

“Give me a music lesson sometime?” Wriothesly teases leaning down tempting you with his sly smirk. His arm lingering on yours a burning contact.

“Hmm I’d have to think about the price….” you trail off as your eyes wander.

You lean back eyes trailing his bright eyes accented by his marks, his strong jawline, the too tight buttons on his chest whilst fiddling with his tie. 

Then pulling Wriothesly forward with his red tie and with a kiss and wink

“Will this do? “ You crooned to Wriothesly dazed expression that turn into toothy smile determined to meet your challenge 

“Oh, or shall I make you sing?” Wriothesly purrs as he inquired leaning close breath ghosting your neck as you lean in begging him to take a taste with chuckle Wrio busies himself kissing and nipping with teeth and tongue your chest and neck to claim you as his own. 

He works his way up until he meets your lips a chaste kiss turning into tongues tangling as lips crashed into a horny tongue kiss for dominance.

“I think I might need a bit more than that” yanking off his tie and leaning in for another kiss.

Your hand splayed on his chest your fingers toying to undo the buttons straining from a too tight vest on his bulky chest. 

Wrio busies himself kissing and nipping with teeth and tongue your chest and neck to claim you as his own. 

As he smoothly lifts you from the couch onto his desk. Sweeping off struck of paperwork and pen.

Admiring your assets and you his before diving in licking and making you keen as he wet tonque explored you skin. Mapping his love to you reaching your pearl and making you sing as promised.

“Heh you taste sweet and sour just like it~” Wriothesly teases. Eyes hungry as he devours you. Wriothesly smirks and licks his lips with toothy grin your desire making his lips sheen.

“Oh shut up you-“  mumble embarrassed as you return  a playful squeeze to his ass that gets him going. He growls into your neck and ruts into you. “Oh wanna play it that way?” he challenges as he perks up his hair resembling dog ear and predatorily caught a scent of arousal. A

A gleam in Wriothesly eyes telling you his switch was flipped to be more rough with you.

 “Afraid, I’ll have to arrest for wandering hands and indecent exposure in front of the law!~” Wriothesley teases admiring your bedraggled form.  

You were half undressed from his ministrations. His shirtless chest and abb pronounced as he clinks the handcuffs from his side onto one of your arms as he  pulls you forward into another bruising kiss.

“Guess you’d have to go to jail too officer~” you chime in catching him by surprise with another kiss as you click the other manacle on his wrist.

You intertwine your fingers with the manacled hand with your own as he pins you p to the desk and he ruts into o

“Hah you want to play it that way?” He teases as he returns the squeeze to your mounds and flicks the nipple idly as he slows his pace.

Your insides throbbing in anticipation as he teases with the tip. “So hungry~ aren’t you my dear?”

“Beg for it” he commands with a growl one cyan eyes flickering with amusement ablaze as he chases pleasure with his hips in your warmth.

Slowly, entering, only to shy away. 

“Ah please more~”

“Please what?”  He echoes cockily adding in a finger to rub and flick your bud as you leak on his fingers and he chuckles.

“Ah such good girl you’re doing great so warm wet” Wriothesley teases. All the while

murmuring praises in your ear hoarsely.

“ Wrio~  stop teasing me” you cry frustrated beating lightly at his toned chest and twisting his nipple in retaliation to his aroused moan.

“… ah there for me. Squeeze just like that baby”  Wriothesley teases and  moans the plan backfires as he smirks  

“Got to do better that sweetie. I’ve had much worse~” Wriothesley challenges as he gesturesto his scarred chest. In retaliation, you lean down to lick  and suck hickey on his skin.

As you suck on his fingers the heat unbearable until you break not satisfied with just the tip.

“Give me ah your everything” you blush embarrassed as he slams into you.

 He smiles turned on as he brushes back his hair and sweat trailing down his chest to stare hungrily with gleaming cyan eyes to watch you be undone by your own orgasm.

“As you wish don’t regret it~” Wriothesley smiles wickedly. A shark’s grin that caught his prey. as he slams back into you, so you see stars.

Fluidly as if swimming stroke by stroke. A steady wild rhythm as he buries himself in your warmth.

He grabs your ass as revenge for your ass grab and pushes you further into him with a squelch and squeak of surprise. 

 You embrace his broad back scratching his shoulders with your nails. A delicious mix of “you fell so goood~ pleasure and pain as he is the one unwinding your and making you lose control in your pleasure.

Then switch to holding onto his buns in turn as he groans and smirks at you. Groaning in pleasure your  “ahh if only I could be buried in you forever dear~”

Quickly, he hardens and spills inside your tight warm walls.

Your sounds devolving into a moan of pleasure by his hips undulating rhyme as he takes you over and over. 

A desire he first had when he had first seen you under the stage lights and singing in the streets. 

Until you both reach your satisfied high and settle for cuddling in the blankets with warm tea on the clean coach.

-After glow-

“Always nice to see you ~ “ you hum happily in his arm snuggling into his bear hug.

“Mhmm stay here for bit “ Wriothesley he comment with peck on the check after you cleaned up .You blushing from the proximity as he engulfs you in a bear hug. 

“Aww don’t want to stay caged up in my arms? “he teases. Catching up reader in bear hug. His rising erection saying hi.

“You weren’t complaining when I was hugging you earlier” Wrio shouts back with an eyebrow waggle that has you blushing and giggling. 

“You horn dog!”

You gasp in mock horror as you throw a couch pillow and devolve into another pillow fight. That leads to another round with close proximity and attraction still thick in the air from the previous activities. 

------

for the friend who's a wrio fan hopefully did this smut justice sweet but Spicy~

Imagine: Wriothesley &  his significant other get frisky with handcuffs but forget the key…to unlock them afterwards lol . His are custom made after all lol….

Extra~ Side Shot After Care Funny Thought: Those cuffs don’t have key lol

Based on the voice line:  

Did you know most handcuffs can be unlocked with the same master key?

Except mine of course. They’re Different~ - Wriothesley

Side Shot After Care Funny Thought: Those cuffs don’t have key lol

Drowsily you wake to the next day. 

There’s a steaming cup of tea on the tabletop. 

“I see you have woken up to the world “ Wriothesley greets you with a kiss to your cheek

“Oh ,and what is with this welcome?” You ask with raised eyebrow jangling the handcuffs on your wrist still on from last nights romp.

“Opp must have forgot those … “ Wriothesley laughs and fiddles to unlatch the handcuffs.

The jingling continues for long time as silence reigns and Wriothesley begin to chuckle nervously a sheepish grin on his face.

“ So, about the handcuffs… those are custom made. SOOO I don’t have the key on me right now?”

“WRIO!”

“Till death do us part?”

“I’m going to break them.”

“Wait no! I had them made can we at least get another use out of-ow”

“You deserve that…”

“Is that a maybe?”

Side note: what if Wriothelsey custom handcuffs were only cosmetic so he never had a key made for them lol….

#yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yandere #soft yandere #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesely #wriothesely x reader #wrio x reader #wriothesley #genshin impact #smut writing #female reader smut #smut

[mrs-padalecki2341]

Hey bestie, I have an idea for a Dean Smut. I'm thinking friends with benefits turned into couple/lovers troupe. With lyrics from the song Again by Noah Cyrus. Maybe semi rough sex? Whatever you come up with is fine. Im obsessed with this song right now and think it would be perfect for that troupe. Also can they say "I love you" at some point during or after the sex? Please and thank you! <3

Heyy!!! Here you go Bestie, and you know I'll always do your requests! I hope you like it! Love you girl!

~~~

Again

(Dean x Reader)

Warnings/ Promises: Smut, unprotected sex/ creampie (wrap it before you tap it y’all), semi-rough sex, friends with benefits, I think that's it but lmk if I missed something.

Song by Noah Cyrus ft. XXXTentacion

(“All lyrics will be marked as so”)

~~~

You and Dean had been sleeping together for over 9 months now. Whenever one of you needed the other you would just call. And right now, you were going to explode if you weren't fucked senseless within the next few minutes.

Luckily, you didn't live far from their bunker.

You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found Dean's name then hit the call button.

He picked up on the first ring.

"*What is it, Y/n hon?*" His voice was husky on the other end, as he already knew the answer.

"I'm coming over." You said into the phone.

"*I'll be in my room waiting.*" And with that, he hung up.

(“You just made the worst mistake And you'll regret it, darling 'Cause once you give and then you take You'll only end up wanting”)

In a matter of minutes, you're at the bunker. You pull out your key and turn it in the lock, letting yourself in.

"*I'm here. See you in a sec.*" You send a quick text to Dean as you walk down the stairs into the bunker.

Sam looks up from his laptop as you pass by him in the library and gives you a small wave, in which you return before scurrying off to Dean's room.

You knock twice to let him know you're there and open the door.

As expected, he's already laying on the bed, waiting for you in nothing but his robe.

"Hey, sexy~" You flirt as you close the door and walk over to the bed, sitting beside him.

He smirks and grabs around your waist, pulling you on top of him, causing you to yelp in surprise.

"Hi~" He smiles and gives you a quick kiss as his hands move to your waist. He hooks his thumbs into your waistline, pulling down both your sweatpants and underwear and revealing your ass.

You kick them off the rest of the way and grab at the tie on his robe, undoing the knot and opening it up. You can't help but moan a little at the fact that he's already hard and leaking precum.

He tugs at your shirt and you assist him in pulling it over your head, then you let him reach behind you and unclasp your bra, throwing both garments to the floor.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He gawks, as if he hadn't seen you like this a thousand times.

"You say that every time." You point out, but you still can't help but smile at the compliment.

"Well, it's true. And besides, it's practically routine to say it at this point~" He runs his hands along your naked figure as he speaks.

You just roll your eyes and lean down to kiss him. He groans into it and kisses you back roughly, his left hand finding your hair and tangling into it as his right hand continues to roam your body.

(“(Ooh-ooh-ooh) was everything hard enough? (Ooh-ooh-ooh) 'cause one day you'll wake up And then you'll say”)

You continue to make out, tongues twisting and lips moving in sync, as you reach your hand down between your bodies and wrap your fingers around Dean's cock.

"Son of a-" Dean grumbles in response to the stimulation. "-bitch~" The last word coming out as more of a moan as you squeeze your hand around him.

You chuckle and start moving your hand up and down over his shaft, still squeezing lightly, earning little moans and grunts from him as you do so.

Then, you raise your hips and line him up with your soaked, wanting core before lowering back down onto him with a sigh.

"Mmn, shit, you're tight as hell." He remarks, groaning at the feeling.

"Yeah, I know, it's been too long." You moan back, rocking your hips slowly, letting him stretch you out.

"You can say that again." He rasps, his eyes rolled back in gratification. Him and Sam had been on back-to-back hunts for the past three and a half weeks and this was the first break they've gotten, aka the first chance he's had to fuck you in almost a month, so you were both overdue for this, especially considering you normally fuck 3-4 times a week or more.

Once you'd adjusted to the stretch of his cock, you sped up the pace, bumping your hips faster until you reached a good speed and rhythm.

You both yelled out in moans and screams of pleasure, sending echos through the bunker. Luckily for Sam, he was used to this from the two of you by now and it didn't really bother him.

You kept the up the fast pace, Dean bucking his hips up to meet with yours with each thrust, until you were both howling out as you got closer to finishing.

"Mm- fuh- fu- mmnph- fuck- I'm so- mmn- close..." You sputtered out between yelps and howls.

With that, Dean moved out of you and flipped the both of you, putting him on top so that he could fuck harder into you.

"SHIT-" You gasped out as he pushed into you harder, his hips crashing against yours with the slap of skin on skin with each shove into you.

It wasn't long before you were gripping at the sheets for dear life as Dean continued to roughly slam his cock in and out of you until you couldn't take anymore.

"DEANNN!!!" You screamed through your orgasm, cumming so hard you blacked out for a moment.

You return to consciousness right as Dean yells out and sprays into you, filling you with his hot cum. Then he collapses on the bed, both of you panting like dogs as you come down from euphoria.

Once he had calmed down some, Dean turned to look at you, his face saying that he has something to tell you, but he doesn't know if he should.

Finally, he sighed and just said it.

"Y/n... I want more from this..."

(“"I wanna be your lover I don't wanna be your friend" You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)”)

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused.

"What I mean is..."

There's a long pause before he finally speaks again.

"I love you Y/n..."

Your eyes grow wide in surprise.

"You love me?..." You say after a moment, still trying to process it.

He gives a gentle nod.

(“I-I wanna be your lover Baby, I'll hold my breath You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)”)

"I... I love you too..." You reply with a bit of hesitation after taking a minute to think about what he said.

(“Again, babe, again Again, babe, again You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again”)

"But?..." He asked, knowing there was going to be one by the way you responded.

"But I don't... I'm not sure if I want to be a couple or whatever or not..." You started.

(“Ooh-ooh-ooh, she's screaming in my head Ooh-ooh-ooh, I left her where I slept Somewhere, I can't escape I'm running from myself Somewhere in between in love and broken, I'm in hell”)

"I just... I don't want to make things awkward between us or anything..." You continued. "I mean, we fit with each other perfectly..."

"In more ways than one." He interjected.

"But... I guess I'm just... scared that things might not still be the same if we were together." You let out a sigh.

(“Saying, "I wanna be your lover I don't wanna be your friend" You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)”)

Dean pulled you up against him, cuddling into you. "Don't worry. I'm sure things won't be any different. I'm sure we'll still be just as inseparable as we already are." He reassured you.

"Are you sure?" You still question.

"Yeah. I am. If it makes you feel any better, we could just try it out at first and if it doesn't work, we could always just go back to being friends with benefits." He suggested, his voice calm and sweet.

(“I-I wanna be your lover You're leaving when the clock hits ten You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)”)

"Yeah... That sounds good." You finally decide. You curl up against him and nuzzle your face into his chest. "Good." He sighed in relief.

(“Again, babe, again Again, babe, again You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)”)

"I love you, Dean." You say contently, feeling safe in the comfort of his arms.

"I love you too, Y/n." He answered happily. "I love you so much."

(“Again, babe, again Again, babe, again You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)”)

He gave you a gentle kiss on the head and pulled you in closer. You moved closer as well and let his embrace take away all your problems and worries, falling asleep in his arms.

-SP<3

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #winchester smut #smut #spn smut #dean winchester spn #dean supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester imagine #smut writing #request #spn fic

[meiluu]

omg omg omg I've got an idea!! So... mean and demanding Cloud when he was controlled by Sephiroth?? Like you know how he's usually so nice and soft during that time... well now he's the opposite? I mean only if you're comfortable with it of course

I love this idea and, so here's a little something that came to mind after reading this...

CW: SMUT 18+, a bit dark, Angst, Cloud isn't fully there and his actions are being influenced by Sephiroth. smut below the cut. *NOT EDITED*

Cloud your sweet boyfriend, who could be a bit icy on the outside but when he's with you that icy nature melts and underneath that layer is a young man who craves your love like he needs air. Wholly devoted to you, his heart handed to you for safe keeping forevermore.

But with the threat of the planet and the loaming shadow of sephiroth, cloud has been...different to say the least. Quick to give into his anger and frustration, especially on the battlefield. A ting strangely towards some of the other members in your merry little group. You had thought that maybe it would lessen over time, but it only seem to do the opposite. But even with all of this you made it clear to cloud that you were there for him, yet he seemed to brush you off nodding absentmindedly.

It hurt you to say the least, but you held strong and continued to remain by his side. And your efforts seemed to be paying off, slowly cloud had begun to seek you out after battles and when he needed your comforting.

Although this time seemed different from others, his mako infused eyes held an emotion that had your hair standing up on end.

A muffled cry of pleasure leaves you as Cloud continues his near brutal thrusts. On your knees with your head partially buried into your pillow, you can feel Cloud strong and unyielding grip on your hips as he ruts into you like he was a starved animal. When he had come to you after another day of fighting monsters as the followed the trial towards Sephiroth, you had expected a typical cuddle session or made some soft sex to come down from the stressful day. Not this.

Its not that you didn't like this, it was just something Cloud had ever really done. He always took his time with you, relishing in your shared time together. And even when he did get a bit carried away you could always feel the love with his actions or with his pleasure filled words.

"Cloud- too much I-" your words are hard to get out with your moans breaking them up. Hands gripping into the sheets as you lift your head turning it to the side to see Cloud. Eyes focusing in on his gorgeous face, his eyes are locked onto where his cock is thrusting in and out of your cunt. His eyes rise to meet yours, pupils blown wide at the view in front of him. A smirk crawls onto his face, then he is moving his hands from your hips to beside yours that are still gripping onto the sheets. "You can take it, you were made for this- For me." His near patronizing words are barely registered with the new angle he has you in. Cock going so deep hitting the spots within you that had the breath leaving your lungs in a moaned cry. One calloused hand of Cloud clasps onto one of yours while the other goes underneath your chin. Acting as a makeshift collar, turning your head towards his. Mako gazing piercing yours.

"You're mine, this-" a thrust accentuates his words cock bullying itself deeper into your orgasming cunt, "is only for me. So perfect just for me."

#x reader #smut #reader #female reader #smut writing #cloud smut #cloud strife smut #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife x you #ff7 remake #final fantasy vii #cloud strife #ff7 cloud #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #ffvii smut #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #cloud x reader #cloud x you #angst #drabble

[spookwyrdie]

Spellbound

pairing: sub!Han x dom!reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: It's his first time at the goth club, Han fidgets with the ring on his collar. He came for one thing - a night in the dungeon with you, the Countess.

genre: SMUT, goth club AU, gentle femdom

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, gentle femdom, semi-public sex, BDSM, leather, spanking, impact play, wax play, no penetration, porn with no plot, descriptions of subspace

18+ only, minors DNI

a/n: I didn't proofread this one, so if you notice any mistakes, no you didn't lol. Han has been coming for my neck recently, a full blown bias wrecker menace.

photo credit: collar

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I've only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The bass hits Han in the chest the minute he walks through the doors, a droning synth heavy in the air, a smoke machine fuzzing out the flashing lights on the dance floor. It feels like he’s walked into another world, a darker, seductive world, filled with black clothes, pale makeup, and an air of mystery. There are bodies pulsing on the dance floor, moving like they’re casting spells to the thick wall of sound that the DJ has built. The whole room feels like a heartbeat that overtakes his own, swayed by the power of the crowd.  

As he makes his way towards the bar, he stumbles a little, his big shit-kicker boots a little unwieldy with his anxiety on the rise. He brushes himself off, his outfit feeling a bit foreign on his body but so exhilarating at the same time. Layering different types of sheer tops, he settled on some combo of mesh and fishnet, under a frayed black sweater barely held together by threads. His pants are a tight leather, and his big boots help him feel a little more solid on his feet. He accessorized with the secret hoard of jewelry he owns, never really having a great excuse to break out a lot of these pieces. The final addition is his collar, a sleek leather with an O-ring at the base of his throat and a few chains for decoration. He bought it for himself, accepting that if he wants to wear one, he’s the only one who’d buy it.  

He’s on edge, his black polished fingers fidget with the choker around his neck, the heavy metal ring in the middle clanking against the chain. It gives him something to occupy his hands to keep them from shaking. He’s been wanting to come to the goth club ever since Chris showed him the pictures he took from the last kink night. It’s a type of lifestyle he’s been drawn to for years now, never really working up the courage to cross the threshold of the night club until now.  

Truthfully, he came to see you. He’s drawn to you like a fly to a web, and you’re the spider waiting in the center. It’s like he can feel you in his veins already. The photos that Chris showed him had been rolling around Han’s mind like an obsidian marble, leaving sooty trails across his thoughts for weeks now.  

~~~ 

“One of the areas they have is a dungeon,” Chris said while flicking through photos of different people in fishnets, lace, leather, all caught in a moment of entranced movement. It looked magical to him. He caught a glimpse of you in the back of one of the photos, standing behind a body bent over and restrained to a piece of leather furniture. You were holding a riding crop in the shape of a heart in one hand and the other had a fistful of the restrained person’s hair tangled in your fingers. “You have to sign a liability waiver, but it’s open to anyone of legal age who consents.” 

“Who is that?” Han asks, trying to keep the tremble of desire out of his voice. 

“Her? Oh, that’s Y/n. She goes by Countess in the scene. She’s one of the dommes that works these events.” Chris says. “Hang on, I have a ton of photos of her. She’s great in front of the camera.” 

He opens a whole other folder labeled ‘Countess’ and Han is awestruck by you. In one, the crowd surrounds you as a man lays prone on the floor with your giant platform boot on his head. In another with a woman strung up from the ceiling with red ropes with you moving to slap against her thigh with a flog. Even more with your face close to a different figure chained to a piece of leather furniture, your hand picks their head up from their hair to look them in the eye. Their eyes are locked onto yours, in a state of undiluted rapture. He’s fixated on your facial expression – teasing, mean, but full of affection. He feels his heart drop into his stomach at the thought of that kind of attention from you being focused on him.  

“She’s... amazing,” Han says, a little breathlessly. “Do you know her well?” 

“Yeah, she’s like always working at the kink nights,” Chris replied. He turns to Han, waggling his eyebrows, “Why? You interested?” 

“N-no! Nothing like that.” 

“Okay, sure,” Chris says, turning back to his computer. “Kink nights are the last Saturday of every month... Not that you’re interested.”  

~~~ 

Han moves through the crowd, bodies swaying and grinding against his as he pushes past them. The atmosphere is shrouded with the ambience of fog and heavy synth music.  

In the back corner, there’s a person at a small table with a clipboard in front of a curtained doorway. He saunters over slowly, heart beating in his throat from nerves. The tiny goth girl with Siouxsie eye makeup looks him over with a smile. “You look a little lost, sugar. Are you here for the dungeon?” 

“Y-yes,” Han gulps. “Is there...like, paperwork?” 

She giggles and holds up a clipboard, “You’re sweet. Yes, there’s some risks you have to look over and sign off on. Oh, I’ll need a photo ID and you’ll need to leave your phone in a little locker up front here. No photos or videos are allowed in the space.”  

Han takes the clipboard from the bubbly little goth girl and starts scanning the page. His eyes go wide at the types of sexual acts he may encounter, “including, but not limited to” all types of bondage, impact, pain, suspension, penetration, masturbation, etcetera etcetera. He gulps, signs his name on the dotted line, and gives the goth girl a shaky smile. “Is... Countess working tonight?” 

“Countess is definitely working tonight,” she says with a sly smile. “She’s only taking individuals on in the private space this evening. It hasn’t been super busy tonight so you’re in luck.” 

The thick fabric of the curtain brushes past him as he enters the dungeon. Immediately, the room is darker, quieter. The bass still thumps through the walls but it’s low enough to have a conversation. He looks around, there’s a group in front of a small stage where a masked rigger ties up and suspends a woman from her hips. One knee is to her chest and the other is bent behind her, more rope connecting her ankle to her braided hair. Her arms are tied behind her back, her body perfectly balanced in this dangling pose. She slowly spins from the place where the ropes hang. The look on her face is a meditative euphoria, full trust in the hands that tie the knots.  

Han is frozen in place, watching the spectacle. He licks his lips in a painful longing. He wants that kind of trust, that kind of floating in space feeling. The only experience he has is from the porn he’s watched and the occasional self-restraint and impact, but it definitely doesn’t feel right. He wants to be at the mercy of someone else’s hands, and he’s really hoping that someone could be you.  

At that moment, a low, sultry voice murmurs in his ear, “Is that something you’d be interested in, little one?” 

Yanked out of his focus on the rope scene in front of him, he spins on his heel. There you are, clad in a leather skirt, fish nets, lace, and a chest harness, showing off your ample curves. You have sweet eyes lined with sharp eye makeup and a dark burgundy stain on your lips. If someone asked him to describe a succubus, he’d describe you in this outfit.  

You look him over, the powerful and discerning gaze he saw in those photos in front of him, that focus pressing into him. He leans back, trying to steady his breath. You step further into his personal space, the toes of your platforms almost touching the tips of his boots. He breathes you in, a heady combination of sandalwood, tobacco leaf, and something sweet fills his senses and he feels a warmth pooling in his lower belly.  

You smile, your teeth gleaming in the low light, “You’re the guy Chris told me about, right?”  

“Chris talked to you?” 

“Yes,” you lean closer, face inches from his. “He mentioned a friend of his was going to show up tonight looking like a scared stray dog. Told me to take care of you.” 

His eyes flutter from your gaze to your plush lips. He’s rooted to the spot, held in this moment by your gaze. The way your teeth look sharp in the light as you grin at him makes his knees weak. You look like you could eat him alive, and he’d thank you for it.  

Your eyes drift over his face, flicking down to the collar he’s wearing. Reaching up with one sharp, painted fingernail, you trail over the O-ring on his collar sitting in the hollow of his throat. 

“Do you belong to someone, stray?” 

“W-what?” 

Your eyes meet his, gaze piercing into his own, “Did someone give this to you as a gift of ownership?” 

His eyes trail down to where your finger lightly grazes over his choker. “No,” he gulps, “I got it for myself because no one has ever thought to get one for me.” 

You study him for a moment, taking in his layered distressed shirts, leather pants and boots. Your eyes rest on that O-ring on his throat as you gently hook your index finger on it. “So, you’re a lost little dog looking for a leash.” 

Han gulps again, suddenly his pants feel a little too tight. “Y-yes, Countess.” 

A slow smile spreads on your face again and your eyes light up with something hot and piercing. “Good boy.” 

With that, you tug on the ring of his collar, pulling Han’s body off balance and towards your face. “Follow me,” you purr against his lips. Your tongue darts out to kitten lick his bottom lip. Han’s eyes flutter closed in disbelief. Heavy arousal blooms in his chest and he feels his cock twitch in his constricting pants.  

You turn, index finger still hooked on his collar, and march him to another room. A thick velvet curtain brings him into a warmly lit space, a plush, leather clad bench in the center of the smaller room. It looks similar to a small picnic table, one main middle support with two supports dropped lower, the surface a well-oiled burgundy leather. There’s a set of cuffs attached to each of the legs at the bottom, so a body could lay there and be cinched down in a vulnerable position. There’s a couch in the corner and small table on the side with an open trunk, Han peeks inside. There’s rope, paddles, a flogger, some red candles, and more. He stops breathing for a second, his arousal thumping through his chest. 

You turn to him, “So, what are you hoping will happen, little stray?” 

“I-I’m not sure,” Han stammers out. 

“Bullshit,” you say matter-of-factly. “No one purchases a collar like that without some sort of craving. What do you want out of this?” 

He pauses, mulling over the question while you appraise him with your eyes, finger still toying with the ring at his throat. He gulps audibly, “I want you, Countess. I want you to hurt me.” 

“Hurt you how, little stray?” 

~~~ 

Han is practically on all fours on this leather bench. His legs are spread over the top part of the bench, knees and hands on the pads below. His weight rests on his naked torso and in this position his half hard cock in nestled between his body and the bench, pressing against the leather of his pants. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles are thick black leather, he pulls against his restraints, feeling them bite into his skin. He can still move a little, still squirm around, but not much more than that. It’s not like he could see what was to come either; he can only lay his head to one side, his cheek flat against the leather of the bench. His heartbeat pounds through him in this position, the rush of adrenaline from the nerves and the promise of the pleasure to come has him quivering. 

You circle him like a predator with its prey, dragging a hand idly across his body as you move. He twitches under your touch when you graze over his ass in his leather pants. When you get to where his face is, you crouch down to his eye level.  

“If I ask you for a color, what do you say?” 

“Green for all good, yellow for slow down and reassess, red for full stop,” he replies. 

“Good,” you murmur, your eyes locked on his lips. You flick your gaze up to his, a pleading look in his big brown eyes, and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “We’ll start with the riding crop.” 

He feels a hot bolt of desire shoot through his spine at the mere thought and he squirms against the bench, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in his cock. The leather of the heart shaped riding crop in your hand trails down his back from the base of his neck to ass. All his nerves light up, muscles spasming under the gentle contact. He writhes more, and a swift smack comes down on his ass suddenly. He grunts in surprise, that hot bolt of desire fizzling into something more tingly spreading throughout his body.  

 You tap the crop along his ass and his thighs in a percussive beat, not too hard, just warming up the area. Han feels you pause for a second before another smack comes down where his thigh meets his ass. His hips jerk forward, and he mewls at the sting of the leather. The pain abates to a glow, like his skin is electrified yet sedate. He can feel his cock throbbing underneath him, his hips slowly grinding into the bench. 

Your hand rests on the small of his back, caressing the area lightly as another bolt of hot arousal burns through him. 

 “Only two spanks in and you’re already humping the bench?” 

Han can only whine in response. 

You lean down towards his face again, your scent enveloping him. His eyebrows knit together as he meets your gaze, begging for more. 

“Color?" 

“GREEN!” he moans, hips gyrating again. 

You smile again, eyes crinkling at the corners. His enthusiasm is palpable, filling the small room. You stand and continue with the riding crop, tapping, pausing, then SMACK! The way you change the length of time you take to pause makes his mouth water, never knowing exactly when the crop will come down on him again, no way to anticipate it.  

You get up and walk to the other side of the room, picking up a new toy. When you return, you run the suede of the flogger down his spine, he sighs as his body convulses. Saliva pools under his cheek where it dribbles out of his mouth, already too far gone to notice or care. You pick up the flogger off his skin and start to spin it in circles, slow at first then picking up speed, the tails coming into light contact with his lower back, ass, and thighs. The rhythmic impact against his skin both sharp and soothing with your expert guidance. Every few spins, you put more force into the downswing, slapping the suede against his skin, the extra sting has Han keening. He can’t control his hips anymore, they are thrusting against the bench again, searching for any friction to heighten the sensation he’s feeling against his body. His back, ass, and thighs feel like they’re radiating from this stimulation. His skin feels like it’s buzzing all over, he’s outside his own mind, beginning to put that trust in your capable hands.  

The flogging stops and your hand rests on the small of his back again and his hips still. Han feels like he’s floating 3 feet above where his body is chained down. The one thing grounding him at this moment is the warmth of your hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. Every small caress you give him makes him feel like an instrument and you’re plucking his strings, making his skin sing. He can barely hear you, too wrapped up in his own mind, but he can hear your voice cooing over him. Your face is down by his again, checking in on him.  

“Color?” 

“G-greeeeeeen...” he moans out, a dopey smile stretching across his face.  

“Good boy,” you say, and press another small kiss to his forehead. Before he can lift his head to try and chase your lips, you are crossing the room once again. Both hands are full when you return - one holds a leather leash with a bolt snap hook and the other a small red candle and lighter. “Look what I found just for you.” 

The leash is black with a lining of red around the perimeter and three small hearts embossed on the looped handle. The candle is a vibrant red color with hardened wax drips running down the sides. You set those on the ground while your hands move to the front of the bench by Han’s head, lifting him gently by the chin and looking in his eyes. Your fingers massage his scalp, the points of your nails sending shivers down his spine. 

“We’re gonna play with a new leash, little stray. And some wax. Color?” 

The way he’s looking at you like you’re shining down above him, he’s speechless at your calm demeanor. The only giveaway that you’re in any way affected is a blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks. 

“Green,” he whispers, breathlessly. He’s panting at just the sight of you, the only thing in his vision he can focus on. You smile down at him, leaning forward until your lips brush against his. He must be imagining it, but you look almost shy for a moment.  

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Please-” he groans, trying to reach up from his secured arms. You slant your lips on his, giving him a sweet, slow kiss. He responds in kind, opening his mouth, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry. The mood shifts from a chaste moment to something more primal as your tongues meet, sliding over one another. He hopes you can taste the desperation on his tongue. 

Your finger curls around the ring of his collar again, pulling it against his skin, reminding him of who’s in control. You pull away from him, sighing. You pull his collar and spin it around his neck gently, making sure the ring is positioned facing his back. Han lets out a whimper, almost nuzzling into your hand. You pick up the leash on the floor and clip the bolt snap onto the ring. Giving the leash a quick tug to ensure it’s connected; he whines at the pulling sensation. 

You come back into his vision and lock eyes with him. “Little stray, I’m going to be pulling on this leash while we play, okay? If you’re not able to speak but you want me to stop, I want you to knock against the wood of the bench. Can you do that for me?”  

He nods, bouncing his head against the leather of the bench, using his knuckles to rap against the wood under one of his cuffs.  

“Good. Color?” 

“Green,” he giggles, blushing under your tender care. 

You stand, hands pushing your skirt up to hook your thumbs on your panties. Han’s jaw drops open as your panties drop to the floor in front of him. You step out of them gingerly and grab the wax candle and lighter off the floor. Your body moves around him and all he can hear is the flicking sound of the lighter. He gasps as he feels you move to straddle him on the bench, settling your weight against his leather clad ass. He screws his eyes shut, feeling his sensitive cock leak at the new pressure, trapped between his body and the bench. Your hand runs up his spine, nails scraping lightly over the delicate skin. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean forward to clasp the leash attached to his collar. You run the leather down his spine, tracing over the red blossoming on his flesh from the flogging.  

The leash pulls against his collar, and he cranes back as far as he can, keening into your touch. You’re not even pulling tight, the barest amount of tension in the leash makes him feel possessed. It’s a feeling of being owned, overpowered, at the beck and call of a master. His hips shudder under you as he presses his ass against your cunt, drawing a moan from your throat. The flash of joy radiates through him at the noise you make.  

“Good boy,” you growl at him.  

The first sting comes from the wax dripping on his back, muscles tensing at the rush of sharp pain. Another hot drip of wax makes him lurch forward with a squeak as more fall against his spine. He’s dizzy from concentrating, trying to anticipate where the next drop will fall and being surprised every time. Han’s breaths are fast and shallow as he focuses on keeping his hips still underneath you, trying to be good for you. 

It’s a lot more difficult when you start slowly thrusting against him with each drop of wax from the candle, bearing down on his hips, making his constricted leaking cock rub against the bench below him. Your hips start to move at a pace matching the low bass thudding in the other room. He moans at your movement, the pressure and the friction almost too much, but just enough to send him into a spiral.  

Your hand on the leash pulls against his neck as you ride your hips against his ass, your wetness slipping over the leather of his jeans. The seam of his pants rubs up against your folds just right to drive you absolutely insane. With each drop of wax, each tug, each thrust, Han meets your cunt with a cry as he pushes back against your clit. You buck against him with fervor, chasing your own high, slamming his hips, dripping wax on his back and dripping your own essence on his leather.  

His moans pitch up, your hips forcing his to thrust against the leather bench, the recoil of him pushing his ass back up towards you, the rhythm you two find together like this has him rocketing towards his release. Above him, you’re grunting out praise, “Such a fucking good boy, fuck.” Soon you are lost in your own pleasure, just staccato moans pouring out of you, so sweet in Han’s ears. 

Your body stops moving above him for a split second as you cry out, your orgasm shuddering through you, hips jerking forward, riding it out on the seam of his pants. Han hears you whining, sounding nearly as fucked out as he does. As you whimper, you pull the leash tight, Han slams his eyes shut as he lets out a strangled moan, leaning into the feeling of the blood flow being constricted. Your hips still rocking against him, you’re more focused on the pressure and rhythm of his hips, watching his body bounce against yours. The aftershocks of your orgasm shake through you still, panting hard. 

“Are you going to cum for me, sweet little stray?”   

Han is outside his own mind, like his soul is trying to leave while his neglected cock slides against the leather of pants, the sensation of being caught between your cunt and the bench has him jerking his hips faster. The tip of his cock is so sensitive, he feels every thrust of your hips in his entire body, his only tether to the earth at this moment is you and the way you’re fucking him into a bench.  

His eyes roll to the back of his head as he cums, his back arching, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he feels the warm spurts make a mess of the leather caging his hard cock. He can’t breathe, not from the pressure of the collar on his neck, but from the sheer ecstasy pulsing through his body. It’s never felt like this before, his skin erupts in goosebumps as the feeling ricochets around his chest. The pain and the euphoria are unmatched as he collapses back down the bench, spent and reeling in the moment.  

“Good boy,” you say in his ear as you slide off his body and onto your wobbly legs. Han is still floating in the air, barely aware of what’s going on around him. You crouch down to undo his wrists and ankles from the cuffs, massaging the skin underneath gently, pressing small kisses to the sensitive skin. The buckle of his collar comes loose under your nimble fingers, and you ease it off his neck. You place your hand in his to see if he squeezes it, but all he can manage is a twitch of his fingers and a groan. While he’s still fucked out in this prone position, you grab some aloe gel and tenderly apply some to his back, peeling away the wax drippings from his skin. You massage his reddening skin, and murmur soft praises at him as he comes back into his body.  

Han moves to get up off the bench, you hold out an arm to steady him. His whole body is wobbly, so you steer him towards the couch. You sit with him and wrap him up in your arms. He collapses back into you, his head resting against your shoulder, feeling warm and safe in your embrace. Pressing little kisses to his neck and head, you rub little circles into his scalp while he comes down.  

His words are a little slurred while he tries to form a sentence. “I n-never...” he starts, pausing to take a deep breath. “I never expected it to be that good.” 

You smile into his hair, pressing slow kisses into him, running your hands down his arms. “It can be even better than that.” 

He turns his head to look at you, “how?” 

“Sweetie, your pants didn’t even come off.” 

His eyes bug out of his head, and he looks down. “I made... a mess.” 

You grab his face and chuckle, “So did I, you got me more riled up than I expected.” 

“I did?” 

“Yeah, I never do what I just did with clients at the club. You were just so responsive, all those little noises, and SUCH a good listener.” You say this with adoration brimming in your voice. You kiss him again, this time unhurried, lingering, just to learn his shape a little better. The bass still thumps through the walls as Han’s heart thumps against you. You pull back from the kiss, searching his eyes, “How are you feeling?” 

“Good. So relaxed,” he says as he stretches, sitting up. 

“Good. Go grab my panties for me.” 

~~~ 

The back of the wooden cafe chair was rubbing up against his tender back, reminding Han of his wild weekend. Each little twinge made him think of you, of the noises you made, the control you wielded. The flashbacks to that night flip through his head as his hands toy with the lid of his coffee, just like your fingers toyed with the ring on his collar. The memory of the way you yanked on his collar is vivid as he spaces out, his chest constricting. He reaches up to brush his hand over his throat, imagining it’s your hand that grazes over his skin. 

“Still back in the dungeon, huh?” Chris says as he slumps down in the chair opposite, a knowing smirk on his face. Han jolts out of the memory, a blush painting his cheeks.  

“Sorta,” he says, with a coy smile playing at his lips. 

“Well, you certainly got Y/n’s attention,” Chris muses. “She told me to give you this.” 

Chris slides a black business card across the table. It’s simple, the card stock heavy, the letters a bright red, a little heart embossed in the corner.  

“She says that if you’re interested, she wants to meet with you again. Something about adopting a stray?” 

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #han jisung #jisung #jisung x reader #han jisung x you #smut #smut writing #kpop smut

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbinhotel #hazbin #x you smut #fanfiction #smut #smut writing #smut fanfiction #x you #x reader #reader fic #reader #reader insert #the radio demon #radio demon #alastor the radio demon

[shewrites444]

arranged [thomas shelby x reader smut]

[ i’ve never written about one of cillian murphy’s characters but oppenheimer has me feeling a bit inspired lately. i haven’t watched peaky blinders in ages, so apologizes if it’s not completely accurate to the storyline. ]

[update: arranged part 2 ]

word count - 2.1k

[ summary - the reader and tommy agree to an arranged marriage that suits both of their needs. despite their disliking of each other, the two seem quite fond of each other in the bedroom, especially on their wedding night. ]

[ warnings - enemies to lovers trope that includes unprotected sex, oral, roughness, etc ]

-

thomas shelby was the last man i ever imagined myself being wedded to, but when my father unexpectedly passed and i no longer had the protection of his people, i had to find another way to make sure i wouldn’t be a victim to any gangs of birmingham - including the peaky blinders.

of course, tommy would never have married me if there wasn’t something i could offer him in return - that happened to be a ton of inherited money from my father, and several breweries i now technically owned, and numerous meeting spots that only i knew about, that the coppers would never find him or his family at, during anytime of the day.

despite the convenience of our arrangement, there was nothing favorable for either of us past the business side of things. our families had been at each other’s throats for years and now that my father was gone, a lot of that tension was, but nevertheless, you can’t expect a peaky blinder to not hold a grudge, even on their wedding night.

“see, that wasn’t so bad.” i mutter to my newly wed husband, walking into the dimly lit bedroom as i took off my white heels, setting them aside the now shut door. i watch as tommy began to unbutton his white dress shirt, and i sigh to myself, but loud enough to quirk his brow.

i tuck my hair behind my ears, walking to the bed and pulling the sheets down to prepare for what would hopefully be a fairly long sleep, given that i’d prefer not think much about who i was now standing across from.

“you don’t have to stay in here tonight if you don’t want to or even at all, tommy. you already have children and i’m aware you don’t want more, and frankly, i don’t want any, so just lie and tell polly the marriage was consummated tomorrow morning. go on.” i gesture my hand up and towards the door, watching his blank expression as i spoke in a more demanding, harsh manner.

he walked towards the bed, untucking his side, his shirt now unbuttoned and his toned, pale body at my exposure, which only made my cheeks redden as the muscles flexed with his movements. i may have despised the man for his profession, but it’s not like he wasn’t physically attractive.

“i may not be so found of you, mrs. shelby, but i do keep my marriage duties, at least to sleep beside you.” he says plainly, sitting down on the white sheets before looking up to me with a teasing expression. it almost felt wrong to see him show any emotion besides, well, none. “now, do i have to make you turn around while i fuck you, or can you bare the sight of me while doing so?”

i roll my eyes with a smirk, laying down and hovering my face above his before biting my bottom lip, glancing at his own with a bit of temptation, but nothing i couldn’t ignore for the sake of my ego. “i’m shocked you even asked to touch me, mr. shelby. peaky blinders have always seemed so forward with what they want.”

he tilted his head, his well-groomed hair bouncing lightly at the movement, now reaching over to hold the back of my neck, running his fingertips through the ends of my hair. “would you prefer i not ask? you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d prefer to be fucked like an animal.”

“you didn’t strike me as the type of man to wait until we were wed to even discuss sex, so we’re both a bit surprised. have you been distracted with other women through our engagement, dear husband?”

he scoffed at my comment, sitting up and leaning himself down to peck at my neck lightly, his heated breath against my tingling skin, a pit forming in my stomach at the touch he never dared grant me until now.

“you never gave me any suggestion to fuck before tonight, [y/n]. i assumed you wouldn’t allow me to lay a finger on you. this all seemed like a business opportunity, a plan for protection and financies, nothing more.” he muttered through his kisses, trailing his lips down to my covered chest before looking up to me again. “so, how about i ask you like a gentlemen, mrs. shelby. is this for business, or not?”

i shrug softly, glancing down to meet his seductive, icy blue eyes. “i think i’ll be able to tell if it is or not when you fuck me, mr. shelby."

he reached over to pull me on top of him, grabbing the white gown that dressed me and helping me to slip it off my core and past my arms, tossing it to the floor, which exposed me in nothing but my underwear, my breasts falling out of the fabric and resting before him. he took one hand to hold my back, the other cupping one breast and his thumb flicking at the hardening nipple. i feel him push me down, his lips attaching to the bud as i let out a soft moan, shocked by how sensual thomas shelby could be if directed to do so.

i could feel the bulge in his pants growing, beginning to grind myself against the black pants while he fondled my breasts with his mouth and free hand, the other that was once on my back now guiding itself down to my ass. he pulled himself away from my breast, panting softly to himself as the tension began to increase between our moving bodies.

“take off your panties and lay down on your back, won't you.” he said to me in a more demanding tone. i stood up and did so, spreading my legs before him as he undressed himself at the side of the bed, soon leaning down in front of me.

i chew my bottom lip at the sight of the man before me, but gasp as his tongue links to my clit, swirling and flicking around the sensitive bud of skin, while i only grow wetter through his touch and the saliva that collected against my entrance. i reach down to hold his head of black hair, my other hand resting against my chest while he continued to give me nothing but pleasure.

“this… this doesn’t seem… like b-business to me…” i stutter my words, my back arching at every sensitive touch he brought to my body. my words made him pull away, a smirk on his wet lips as he stuck one finger inside of me, pumping and curling it slowly enough to draw a loud moan from my lips before pulling it out right after.

he leaned down and gestured for me to open my mouth, sticking his finger inside for me to taste my own juices before pulling it out and licking it himself.

“neither does this, how wet you are for me. are you sure you want to take back the consummation of our arrangement, hm? it seems you like my tongue, mrs. shelby. do you think i’ll like yours?” he grinned, standing up and pointing his full erection towards me, holding it in one hand as i sat up on the bed.

i blush, getting off of the bed and onto my knees before him. i take his length into one hand, pumping it slowly as i look up to him, our eyes locked when i lean forward and take his tip into mouth, a heavy sigh coming from his lips as i begin to suck him off. he was thick and much longer than any man i’d ever been with, and frankly, if we were to sleep together tonight, i was a bit nervous of how my body would take him and the aftermath of it all tomorrow morning.

“fuck, fill your throat with me, [y/n]..” he moaned, both hands holding the back of my head as he thrusted himself towards my face. i took his cock down my throat, my eyes closing almost immediately as a tear runs down my cheek from the unexpected penetration, moving my head back and forth as his balls slap against my wet chin.

he tilted his head, mouth hung open as he watched me take him down my throat. i could hear his breath cutting short each time he thrusted, his cock twitching inside my mouth as he edged himself through each stroke. when he could tell through my reddening expression and glossy eyes that i was a bit overstimulated, he slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, leaning down to help me back on my feet and onto the bed.

he kneeled down before me, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a passionate kiss against my lips, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, which distracted me from the way he was moving my body off the bed again. he wraps his arms around me and guides me across the room and to the dresser, where he then breaks the kiss and turns me around, bending my body against the wood to where i made eye contact with the mirror that connected the furniture.

"i think this is worth the watch, don't you?" he teases, a devilish smirk across his face as he takes my neck in one hand, the other trailing before my pussy, his index and middle fingers attaching to my clit as he pushes himself inside of me without warning.

i gasp, watching my mouth open as he begins to fuck me, hard, against the dresser. the stimulation above my insides didn't make this any easier to take, given the fact i could already feeling my climax building in a matter of seconds.

i rest both palms against the wood, watching tommy's lips trail to my shoulder as he kissed against my sweating skin, leaving fresh hickeys from time to time, marking me like i was more than just an arrangement to him. if anything, this showed me that thomas shelby may not favor me, but he sure wanted the world to know i was his wife, and no one else's.

"i could fuck you all day, [y/n]. nothing fucking... compares to... how good you feel, fuck.." he muttered between kisses, looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror, his hand moving from my neck to hold my left breast tightly, halting it from bouncing throughout his thrusts. "do you feel me as much as i feel you?"

i nod, mouth still hung open, unable to even speak a word as tommy pulled my body closer, his fingers digging into my clit and forcing me to arch my back down, my ass pressing against him and causing even harsher friction between our bodies while he quickened his pace at the touch, the sound of our skin slapping together overpowering the bedroom.

i suddenly feel his arm wrap around my waist, and then the other, holding me so close and his body leaned so far down my back was touching his core. he thrusted deeper, further than what i even thought was possible for him to go, and so much so to the point i was in immense pain, but god, it felt so fucking good. his cock overpowered my entire body, and i felt my orgasm rushing to the surface, fluids leaking out from inside of me past himself and dripping between my legs, his own orgasm filling my insides within a matter of seconds after.

i feel him slide out of me, catching his own breath and helping turn me around to face him. he takes my hand and places the other on my back, guiding me to the bed once more and laying me down, pulling the sheet on top of me to cover my stomach down, my breasts exposed to the cold air. i feel his lips against my chest, lightly kissing from my nipples, to my shoulders, to my neck, and to my lips, once more. he smiles softly, and genuinely, to me, before snapping out of his sappy mood to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it.

"do you think we'll be doing this again?" he asks quietly, handing me the cigarette. "doesn't seem like it would be a negative thing to add to our arrangement, eh?"

i smirk, blowing the smoke out from my lips and towards the ceiling. "i wouldn't be opposed, but if you fuck me that hard every time, i'm not sure i would be able to get out of bed the next morning."

he chuckled to himself, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed, sliding himself into the sheets and putting out the cigar. he took me into his arms, lighting running his hand across my hair. "we can see about that. goodnight, mrs. shelby."

i rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes and smiling to myself, partially hoping tommy wouldn't see my vunerability.

"goodnight, mr. shelby."

#smut writing #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #thomas shelby peaky blinders #x yn #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #fic writing #thomas shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders smut

[earlgreyflowers]

Public sex with oscar, other people getting off on it without them knowing or like them getting caught or maybe even oscar cuming in yn secretly in front of everyone, just anything voyeur with oscar please 😭

People would never ever guess the things that you and Oscar got up to behind closed doors, and even sometimes open ones. Oscar always got off on the idea of people seeing what he does to you, showing them how well he knows your body. They never question it when his driver’s room door is conveniently left unlocked whilst you celebrate his race, or when he licks his fingers after his hand comes up from below the table at dinner.

Sure they notice how affectionate he is, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you from behind. But they’ve never heard the filthy words he whispers to you about how easy it would be to lift up your little skirt and stuff you full. Or so you thought.

Lando is the first to notice, given the amount of time he spends around you both. He notices the way Oscar often has a hand on you, leaning in too often to whisper something discreetly in your ear. It was at dinner that the truth first came together. Oscar’s hand had been under the table for a while, him eating his dessert with just one hand. You however, hadn’t eaten an ounce of yours. When Lando looked over to you he noticed how flushed you were, how your eyelids fluttered and how your lips seemed more tempting you than the dessert.

His eyes trailed over you, following them down to where Oscar’s hand seemingly rested on your legs. From his vantage point he could see the way Oscar’s arm was flexing rhythmically, his hand moving ever so slightly. His eyes widened as he realised what his shy teammate was doing. He won’t lie and say the thought didn’t have him straining against his jeans slightly, especially when he spotted how calmly Oscar was watching him. Oscar winked at his teammate, a finger coming to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Lando swallowed dryly, nodding as he continued to glance all night, especially when Oscar licked his fingers clean.

Oscar had continued his public acts, often finding himself two fingers deep inside you as you struggled to stay quiet. But he loved the busy clubs, when the drivers booked a VIP booth and no one paid any attention to anything other than alcohol. After the end of his first season in Formula One he was itching to celebrate, aching to get you alone. Once Oscar realised this was unlikely to happen, he’s formed a plan. A plan that culminated in this moment, you on his lap in a club, whilst some other occupants of the grid watched on.

Lando again had been the first to notice, your cheeks flushing at Oscar’s words. “Imagine being stuffed full in this club, nobody would know how deep I am inside you baby.” He cooed in your ear, large hands sliding up and down your exposed legs. It took George and Fernando arriving with more shots for you to agree, firm in your decision that everyone else was preoccupied.

You wriggled in Oscar’s lap, finding a comfortable position that didn’t look too suspicious. You hovered over him as he slipped his member out of his jeans. He bit back a groan as you slid yourself down, your warm walls encasing him. “So fucking tight aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, “Such a slut for me.” You whimper lightly, burying your head in his neck as you start a subtle grinding motion against him.

“That’s it, use me where anyone could see you. Do you like that idea?” Oscar coos, “That anyone here could look over and see how needy and desperate you are.” His hands squeeze your hips as he rolls you against him, groaning in your ear at the feeling if you wrapped around him. Oscar’s grateful for the booming music, grateful that no-one can hear you moaning for him. You hear Oscar chuckle lightly from your position, looking up at him in confusion. “Don’t stop sweetheart, but we have a small audience.” Oscar tells you, your heart stopping at his words.

He smirks at the way your walls clench around him before beckoning the audience member over. You hear someone sit next to the pair of you behind the table, Oscar greeting him with a nod. “Took you a while to notice this time mate.” Oscar says, your ears barely picking up the scoff of your new admirer.

“Keeping her hidden that’s why Oscar, you know I like to see her face. See what you do to her.” Lando’s voice causes a flush to overtake you, your hips grinding harder against Oscar. He groans once more, head tilting back at the feeling of you on top of him. “Oh she’s getting you good this time isn’t she?” Lando laughs, licking his lips as he watches you move.

“You have no idea,” Oscar smirks, “She’s an angel.” He tells his teammate. You whine into his neck as Oscar’s hand wraps in your hair. He tugs lightly, your face emerging from its hiding spot. “I want you to look at Lando baby, he likes your pretty little face.” Oscar mutters, stroking your cheek gently as he grinds his cock into you. Once you make eye contact with Lando your pace increases, joined now by Oscar’s thumb on your clit. Your moan of his name catches the attention of another driver, the warmth of his body emanating from behind you.

“Roped Lando into your little kink too have you?”

The American accent of Logan fills your ears, a soft smile spreading over your lips at the familiar audience member. “It’s hot isn’t it Lando? The way she’d do anything for him. You should see them behind closed doors, absolutely filthy.” Logan muses, hand resting on your hip as he helps you move over his best friend.

“You really should come watch Lando, she loves the extra pair of eyes.” Oscar tells his teammate, “You think she’s dirty now? Wait ‘til you see her on all fours with my dick in her mouth. It’s art.” You can’t help but moan at his words, squirming at the way the three men discuss you. It’s when Lando smiles at the thought of watching you both in private, nodding at Oscar’s proposal, that you tumble over the edge.

Your legs quake and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Your walls clench around Oscar as he bites his lip, stifling the loud moan threatening to spill out. You attempt to hide your face once more but Lando holds your head still, studying your face as you cum for his teammate. Oscar grinds into you deeper, the rhythmic clenching driving him to his own orgasm. He shoots his load inside you, whimpering in sensitivity as Logan continues to move your hips.

The pair of you come down with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks, before eventually leaving the club. Trailed by Logan and Lando for a night you’ll never forget.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #smut prompts #smut requests #smut writing #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #landoscar #landoscar smut #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x you #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 smut #op81

[honeyed-hedonist]

Pairings: Aged Up!Damian Wayne x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Summary: You're always just a phone call away for Damian, so he calls when he needs you. And tonight? He really fucking needs you. Warnings: SMUT--MINORS DNI. unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, size kink if you squint, face slapping (once), oral (male & female receiving), orgasm control (kind of???), basically just 3k words of Dami tearing you apart in the best way. A/N: Hello again! Posting another old fic on mine. I still blame @heli0s-writes for sending me on a Damian Wayne spiral. I will never recover from this and it's all her fault. Enjoy :3

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It’s late. It’s always late when he calls you—3am and you’re answering the phone, the pitch of his voice deepened and gruff with need. A need that only you can satiate. “Come over, darling.” You’re out the door before you end the call, hailing a cab to the manor, pulse racing because you know what’s coming.

The path you walk when you reach the gate is so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed, feet carrying you to the front door. There’s no need to knock or ring the bell, the second your shoes hit the porch Damian swings it wide open, the cowl stripped off, blackened liner still smeared around those beautiful green eyes. He’s looking at you like he wants to tear you apart, but you’ve always had an affinity for pretty, dangerous things. 

A step closer and you catch the way the warm light of the entryway bounces off of the thin gold chain hanging around his neck. It sparkles, and your mind conjures up the image of it swinging above your face when you’re folded in half on his bed. It makes you clench, taking another step while your eyes make the slow trek downward, his bare chest and rippling stomach that cuts to narrow, defined hips has your mouth watering. You know what they feel like against your tongue, beneath your fingers.

There’s no need for words, his calloused hand closing around your wrist to tug you inside, the heavy door shutting with a definitive click that reverberates off the walls and arched ceilings of Wayne Manor. He’s already hard, you can feel it when his arm snakes its way around your waist to pull you even closer. And then he’s crouching down, sweeping his other hand behind your knees to lift you into his arms.

You’re trapped in the heat of his gaze, the salty, earthy smell of his skin--still damp with sweat from his night spent in triple-weave kevlar. Fingers dance up the back of his neck, tangling into that silky, black hair, and his chest vibrates with something akin to a growl. It sends your pulse rushing between your legs, desire warm and heavy in your belly as he walks you up the stairs towards the master suite. 

The second you’re past the threshold, you reach for his face, wanting to feel his hot mouth on yours, but he doesn’t budge, the corner of his lips quirking in an amused smile at the whine that comes tumbling out of your throat when you try, and fail, to kiss him. “Patience, beloved.” Damian is gentle when he sets you down on the lush, thickly weaved rug that spreads out from beneath his bed, forefinger and thumb coming up to pinch your chin. His nose brushes yours when he speaks again, breath hot and sweet as it fans out across your face. “Be good.”

You watch with baited breath as he settles himself on the edge of the mattress, thighs spread open, palms flat against his knees, his posture perfectly straight. He looks like a king on his throne, and you’re prepared to bow at his feet. “You’re very overdressed, don’t you agree? Perhaps you should remedy that.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument, your hands falling to the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it hastily over your head. Your shorts are your next target, swiftly yanking them down your legs. Shoes, socks, and bra all join the pile of your discarded clothes after that, and Damian hums his approval. “Much better.” 

Lifting one of his hands, he points to the space between his feet. “Come.” There’s no hesitation from you, moving immediately with a step forward, but then he scoffs, eyebrows drawn down in admonishment. “Really, pet? Is that how you’re meant to approach me? As my equal?” His words make you short circuit, brain muddled with the fog of submission, because you will always submit to him--it’s not even a question at this point. He’s in charge, he owns you, and he knows it.

Dropping to your hands and knees, you crawl towards him slowly, eyes trained on his face, trying to read him--but Damian has mastered the art of impassiveness. His calves brush against your shoulders as you wedge yourself between his legs, the only sign of his pleasure is the tent in the front of his joggers and the rumbling in his chest. It’s enough--has you salivating from your place on the floor, eagerly awaiting instruction.

He leans forward, strong hand circling your throat, fingers tightening until he can feel the ripple of your swallow. “Have you missed me?” He asks, but you know better than to open your mouth, choosing instead to nod your head. Damian hums thoughtfully, free hand stroking at his slightly stubbled chin. “Hmm, I’m not sure I’m convinced. Why don’t you show me?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer, and he relents, releasing your throat to lean back on the bed, propped up with his arms extended so he can watch you--he’s always watching you--calculating, observing, learning. Damian Wayne knows all of the ways to take you apart, and all of the ways to put you back together again, but now he’s testing you, wants to see just how much you’ve learned since you began spending nights in his bed.

Shaking fingers dip beneath the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his thighs until the heavy weight of his cock springs free, slapping against the hard plane of his stomach with a dense thud. You moan, how can you not? He’s impressively large, perfectly curved towards his bellybutton, nestled in coarse, dark hair, thick and throbbing just for you. His head is shining with pre, glistening in the orange glow from the roaring fire in the hearth nearby. Your eyes meet, faux innocence batting up at him from beneath your lashes. But Damian knows better, knows how filthy you are, and he’s losing his patience.

You let your hand circle the base, tongue dragging a hot, wet line beneath his length until your lips close around the tip, precum tangy against your tastebuds. You moan again, eyes rolling back. The musk of his night perusing the city is still fresh on his skin, and he always tastes so god damn good like this. Dirty. Natural. It spurs you onward, his tip popping into the back of your throat as you take him all the way down. He reaches out after that, fingers gentle against the skin of your neck, his cock seated so fully inside the wet heat of your mouth that he can feel himself beneath your esophagus when you swallow. It makes him grunt, satisfied with your efforts.

It’s all the encouragement you need to move again, cheeks hollowed as you suck him off. The only sounds in the room are your labored breaths and the nasty, wet squelch of your mouth on his cock. Damian’s eyes are blown black, watching you like a predator tracking its prey, hand shooting out to curl into the hair at the crown of your head and shove you down until your nose is pressing against his taut abdomen. He holds you there, testing your limits, keeping you still, voice strained with his pleasure when he speaks. “Swallow.” He commands, and you oblige, whimpering while your thighs shift in an attempt to alleviate the ache in your cunt. 

“What’s wrong, pet? Do you want to cum?” Damian smirks at the desperate look in your eyes before he answers his own question. “Too bad.” He mocks your arousal, knowing all you really want right now is for him to fuck a hole right through you, but he needed to feel your warm, wet mouth first.  And Damian will never apologize for having his needs met, because he always reciprocates in kind. Especially with you.

He volleys with you back and forth, letting you have control before ultimately usurping you to fuck your face. When he’s satisfied, your cheeks are hot, the remnants of the mascara that you carelessly forgot to wash off is smeared down your face, and your chin is covered in your own spit as he yanks you free from his cock by your hair. “Tch--look at you, such a mess.” Damian’s free hand breaks the string of spittle connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick and smears it across your face. He’s not gentle, and you don’t want him to be, moaning open-mouthed when his palm cracks across your cheek. “Get up.”

Your actions are instantaneous, done without pause or thought, rising to your feet with his hand still fisted in your hair. He stands, too, spinning you both around until your calves hit the mattress and he shoves you backwards. You fall gracelessly onto his comforter, and he gives you no reprieve, no chance to catch your breath before he’s peeling your thighs apart to inspect your slit. Your panties are an encumbrance, one that has him growling as his long, dextrous fingers tear the fabric clean off, ripping them away to toss on the floor. 

He wastes no time, hands framing your cunt to peel your lips apart, leaning forward, he takes a deep inhale, the tip of his nose bumping against your throbbing clit. It makes you jolt, body bowing off of the bed, but his eyes cut to yours and you still immediately, knowing that he’ll stop if you don’t behave. “You have the most beautiful cunt, and she’s all mine.” Damian hums, mostly to himself, pink tongue slipping out of his mouth to circle your clit slowly. Your hands fist his expensive bedding, knuckles bone-white as he begins to work you over with his mouth.

He’s an expert at many things--knows over a hundred ways to kill a man with his bare hands--and can get you to gush against his mouth in a matter of minutes. Damian plays your body like a fine-tuned instrument, hits all the right notes to make you see stars. He curls those long, rough fingers of his against the velvet walls of your pussy, free hand applying pressure at your belly, while his plump lips suction against your pulsing clit. Barely two minutes in and you’re already hurtling towards bliss, whining and whimpering and writhing--all for him. 

“Dami, please!” You want your release. Want to cum all over his handsome face. He can feel it in the way your cunt grips his fingers, fluttering in time with the expert swipes of his tongue. He knows it’s only a few more licks until you’re careening into your orgasm. His eyes meet yours between the valley of your breasts, glittering with mirth as you cry out, begging shamelessly for him to let you cum. And then, like the menace he is, Damian releases your clit with a wet pop, effectively slamming you into a brick wall, your orgasm slipping right through your fingers with a pained cry.

Tears of desperation brim in your eyes and he tuts, rising to his feet, forearm wiping your glistening arousal from his lips and chin. “Do you have no shame? Begging like a common whore.” He’s on you in a flash, joggers discarded, fully naked as his hand once again finds your throat and he snarls above you. “Your orgasms belong to me, beloved. I decide when you deserve to cum, and tonight, you’ll be coming all over my cock. Do I make myself clear?” 

He expects an answer, but you’re transfixed, completely mystified by his overpowering, eclipsing presence above you. Damian makes you feel small. It fogs your brain, makes it hard to do anything other than mewl, thighs parting to accommodate his hips as he settles above you.  “Tch--useless little thing. All you’re good for is being my tight hole to fuck, isn’t that right, pet?” You nod, helpless and desperate beneath him, every nerve ending in your body thrumming like live wires. It’s a fact that he captializes on, slapping the mushroomed tip of his dick against your drenched slit, the wet sound that reaches his ears making him moan.

There isn’t a sound on Earth prettier than hearing Damian Wayne moan for you, your mouth falling open as you gaze up at him in awe. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to sluice the middle fingers of his left hand over your tongue. Ever the obedient pet, your lips close automatically, suckling as those same fingers push so far back they make you choke. Through your bleary eyes, you can see the sadistic smile that graces Damian’s face. It’s dangerous, and it sends a fresh rush of arousal leaking from your cunt. 

It’s almost like he can smell it, and he probably can, his irises disappearing until all that’s left are the whites of his eyes as he inhales deeply. There’s no warning, no preparation, just his gaze rolling back to meet yours when he snaps his hips forward with perfect aim, his cock stretching you open and filling you in a way only he can. It makes you scream, your back beginning to arch, but Damian is right there, pulling his fingers from your mouth to grip your throat and pin you back down against the mattress.

His pace is unforgiving. It’s brutal and deep, carving his way into your body with harsh thrusts that have the headboard knocking flecks of plaster off the walls until they cascade down like rain onto the comforter. “You. Belong. To me.” He spits it through gritted teeth, and it’s not something you’ll ever deny. Your relationship may be unconventional, but you wouldn’t trade it. Any time spent with Dami, to you, is a gift, especially if it means he’ll fuck you absolutely boneless in order to reassert his control on those nights when he feels like the world around him is spiraling. 

You take it all--every thrust, the gnashing of his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the suffocating grip around your throat, the drizzle of spit that falls onto your waiting tongue when he pries your jaw open. Anything Damian dishes out, you take without complaint, because while he craves control, you crave subjugation--the metaphorical yin to his yang.

Your voice is hoarse when you try to speak, breath stuttering with every powerful roll of Damian’s hips, barely heard over the lewd sounds of being fucked open. Each strike of his cock inside of you hits that spongy mound of tissue, dragging his silky, hot length against it with each withdrawal. It has you climbing right back towards your inevitable peek, the only question is-- will he let you finish this time?

“Dami--m’gonna--please, m’so close, baby.” You wheeze, and he smiles, teeth blindingly white even though the haze of your oxygen deprivation. You find some reprieve from the deliciously pleasurable pain when he finally peels his fingers back from your throat, hands sliding to your shins to fold them up and into your chest. His pace never lessens, he never slips out, following the bending of your body, the new angle allowing an even deeper stroke inside your gummy walls. It has you keening, hands clawing at his chest, his gold chain bouncing against the backs of your palms.

“Very well, I think you’ve earned it.” Reaching between your bent legs, Damian’s thumb slices through the lips of your cunt that are spread wide around his cock to seek out your clit. He’s precise, circling the aching bud in a way that makes you choke, throat vibrating with a squeal. You’re close again, rapidly approaching your release, so fast you can barely keep up, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable tightness. This time, when you meet his eyes, the malice is gone, replaced with what you can only describe as devotion. “Go on, make a mess on my cock, cum for me.”

That’s all it takes, his permission coupled with the expert swirl of his thumb and the perfect drag of his cock have you seeing stars, bursting with a cry of his name. You scream, back arching up, chest to chest with him as he cradles you close. “I know, beloved, I know. Let it all out.” He coos, still thrusting wildly through the resistance as your pussy tries to shove him out with each fluttering pulse. Damian can feel your cum weeping out around him, it wets his thighs, dribbles down the seam of his sack, drips down onto the mattress. It makes him groan, balls tightening as he reaches the point where he can no longer stave off his own release. 

With a low moan of your name he pumps into you once, twice--the third sending the first spray of his cum deep in your womb. You can feel the pulse of his length as he bottoms out with a grunt, forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your mouth. Jet after jet of semen coats your insides, filling you up so full it almost hurts. You whimper out, and Damian shushes you, cupping your face to plant a soft kiss against your lips. “Shh,” he murmurs. “You did so well for me, my darling. Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

All you can manage is a hum, Damian’s fingers carding through your sweat-slicked hair as he peppers soft kisses over your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead. This has got to be your favorite part, because while he knows how to completely wreck you, he’s also right there to pick up the pieces and stitch you right back together again. 

He carries you into the bathroom, runs a bath for the both of you, coddles and keeps you close until the pair of you are falling into his freshly stripped bed beneath the sheets. His arm is slung snugly around your waist, his lips on the back of your neck as you settle in preparation of sleep. “I’d like you to move your things into the manor.” His voice is soft, there’s a hesitation there that is so uncharacteristic it nearly shocks you back from exhaustion. But again, all you’re able to offer him is a hum of acknowledgement, wiggling further into the warmth of his body, heavy eyelids closing as your consciousness wanes and you drift. 

You’ll tackle this moving in business when you’ve got a clear head and a full belly, but the prospect of taking the next step in your relationship with Damian brings you the most pleasant, peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #robin x reader #robin x you #batfam #batfamily #damian wayne smut #robin smut #smut writing

[gh0vtzb1og]

Easy darlin’. Masters of horror, the following series/ GRAVES X FTM READER

This au is based of ‘masters of horror’ episode 11 and ‘the following’.

Disclaimer; I will not be doing daily writing unless I know I can. Rn I am struggling to find a good pace, please give me grace.

Notes; kidnapping, knife/gun play, bondage, cuts, gagging, tape, overstimulation, transphobia, misogyny, mocking, RAPE/NON CON, marking/biting, forced makeup (smearing lipstick forcefully on you), nipple pinching, forced feminization, age gap (19 - 45), baby trapping(?)

This will not be accurate to said episode or series.

Info on this au; graves is a police officer and murderer who picks you up, why exactly? Find out.

You were sitting on a bus, a brown jacket hugging your body, some wranglers resting upon your hips. They hugged your body in every way they should’ve. You looked so handsome, could barely tell you weren’t biologically a boy until it came to your medium length hair. You liked it though, it wasn’t a big deal, nothing super scary or anything!

Your body ached, you had been on the road for days, hopping on and off buses, trying to get hotels with the little money you had, it was either that or food. You preferred food, of course learning how to live in the forest was hard, especially in this county. It was scary, men were too rough around here, always having their eyes open for pretty things.

Graves was gripping his steering wheel, his hands wrapping around it tightly as his truck drove down the road, his cowboy hat sat in the passenger seat, awaiting to be on his head, protecting his blonde hair. He had a warm duster wrapped around his body, covering his shirt and his waist, a hum leaving his lips as his fingers moved anxiously.

He needed to find something soon before he lost it, I mean he didn’t ever see stragglers until his truck slowed down, a bus lied ahead, completely broken down on the side of the road, 5 people stood by the bus, and one was walking up the road. He seemed to be most interested with the person walking away, smart aren’t they. Wondering on a lonely rode, graves could pull over, drag him in and rape him if he really wanted too.

Graves truck pulled to a stop as he watched you walk up to his truck, your eyes narrowing as you watched his friendly smile on his face, a thick country accent filling his voice. “Can I help? Where you headin? I’m sure I can take you there, it’s a long walk before any civilization hon.” He spoke in a sweet and welcoming tone, a click of a button caught your attention, graves had unlocked the door, he was really expecting you to get in. Maybe you should, this stranger seemed nice.

“How do I know you ain’t gonna like, molest me sir. Dangerous country around here I’ve heard.” You spoke softly, leaning against the rolled down window of his truck as graves watched you with a smirk, you had no clue what was coming. No clue this stranger would strap you to a bed and go fucking wild. Just to hear your petrified moans of pain.

Even if you were dressed like a man, which graves found to be a turn off in his own eyes. He’d take your clothes off and get you back into your comfort zone, you’d learn that he’s what you’d want. Even if you can’t kick or cry away from him, he didn’t care. You’d become what he wanted. Not what you wanted, you already had your chance with that, and you’d clearly failed.

As you leaned over to talk to the stranger, he got a good look down your shirt, seeing your perfect tits. Why would you hide these? They were perfect. He wanted to fondle and grab at your soft and plump fat that laid upon your chest, he’d touch until he was tired, graves was too rough to care whatever you thought.

His eyes trailed back up to your face, unlocking the car once more to try and signal you in. This time it worked, you crawled into the seat and picked up his hat, placing it on your own lap and buckling yourself in. The click of the seatbelt made you soothe almost immediately, your driver shot a toothy grin to you. He wasn’t gonna touch you yet, it would be wrong too. You’d scare easily, he could tell you were a jumpy little fucker. Which would definitely bring a challenge to him.

“Now, what were ya doin all the way out here hm? Definitely doesn’t seem like your type of place sweetheart.” He slowly let the sweetheart roll off his tongue, it felt almost natural when speaking to you. Especially now that he knew taking you to a motel would be worth it. Even if you don’t let him in, he’d just sneak through the window. Plus you didn’t look like you had much money.

“I was just exploring some country, the bus broke down, I was headed more up north, maybe in search of work.” He wrapped his arms around his own body, trying to put up a way of defense, showing he didn’t want to be touched, especially not by this strange man. He smirked, his eyes trailing down your body. He couldn’t wait to get your pants off, teach you what your body wants. How it should be treated, that it wasn’t your own. Nothing was your own, not to him. Graves would teach you that you were his thing to play with and train.

“You seem awful shy, why’s that darling? Nervous?” He grabbed your thigh with a firm grasp. Trying to make sure you couldn’t pull away from him, his grasp was rough and tight. Nails practically digging into your thigh to keep you in place, his grin lair rest upon his face still, his eyes lingering onto your body as his hand moved further up.

“Pull over I wanna get out.” You suddenly interjected his touch. Pulling your leg away and glaring at him, you sure as hell weren’t friendly. Especially when a complete stranger was gripping and groping you.

“No, no. I’ll drive you to a motel, chill out. You’re being dramatic boy.” He spat, watching as you practically curled up as far away from him as you could. Like he had some sort of plague or illness. You didn’t want to say anything else to him, I mean you didn’t have all the time in a he world to let this man grab at you, nor did you invite him to touch on you.

It was embarrassing to sit by him, especially after he groped or attempted to. His truck sped down the road, the surrounding area just turning into flashes of green and whites, the fog covering the surrounding forests. The blonde male looked fii oh you every second or so, he was trying to think of what to say, I mean he’d already freaked you out, maybe he would just take you to the motel and sneak into your room.

If anyone hears you moan and cry, they’d just think you’re getting your brains fucked out. I’m sure it happens at little places like this all the time. Some couple gets lonely and decides they’ll fuck eachothers brains out in the safety of a closed environment.

A sign appeared on the road just a bit ahead, it read ‘beach grove motel’ sounded like a calm and quiet peaceful place to relax for the night, then you were on your feet again, traveling god knows where. A hum left his lips once more as his truck sputtered to a stop infront of the cozy little place, his eyes lingering on your body. He couldn’t just let you go, not this time. He’s let countless of little catches go when he couldn’t had them to himself. You grabbed your stuff and climbed out of the vehicle.

Your boots hit the ground below you as quickly moved towards the entrance of the motel. You didn’t dare turn to meet his threatening eyes, he was preying down upon you. He parked in a nearby forest, his eyes watching as you entered your room. He’d find a way into your room. Graves moved around the back of the motel, pressing up against the wall and staring at the window which lead into your bathroom.

You stood in your room, the bed was surprisingly comfortable, the room had a decent shower with warm water, maybe you’d take a shower! It was probably better after walking most of the day except for when that guy picked you up,, that fuckin freak. Your hands went to your belt, holding onto the buckle and undoing your belt, letting your pants drop to the floor below you as you step out of your boots. Now just standing in a shirt and your panties. Even if you tired to appear manly, you ended up in your panties and I bra when without your clothes. You slid your shirt and bra off, trailing into the bathroom and starting a warm shower.

Graves looked through the window, his eyes scanning over your naked body, the glass was tinted a weird way, then he saw you quickly leave the room. His head tilting with curiosity as he moved towards the front of the building. You were standing infront of a vending machine, a large shirt over your body and some panties which were barely poking out. It seemed to have jammed, you hit the machine with an annoyed grunt.

The man took this moment to step beside you, hitting the machines glass much harder. You jumped out of fear. His hand resting on the spot where he hit, your candy bar fell almost too perfectly down to the bottom. He smirked at you playfully, “guess we meet again hm?” He sung out tauntingly. Graves loved the way you stared at him, horrified.

He hummed out once more, “you look much better without those boyish clothes. But, any girl looks better in what they should actually be wearin’ don’t they?” He stepped forward, in repulsiveness you stepped back, sliding your hand into the vending machine and moving back towards your room.

“I’m gonna go call my boyfriend and shower. Thanks, for getting it out.” You didn’t have a boyfriend but you needed him to get off your ass, you disappeared back into your room, quickly shutting your door and locking it. You removed your shirt and panties and went back to your shower, the warm fog that collected in the room welcomed you, your nipples softening as you stepped into the warm water, the drops of the broiling water dripping down your chest, then to your stomach and between your thighs, a whine of sorrow leaving your lips as the steaming liquid met your cunt.

It went back to dripping down your long legs, a shiver of embarrassment leaving you as you let your body warm up underneath the heavenly shower, graves sat propped outside the window, his eyes never faltering from their place on you. He couldn’t wait any longer, the male propped the window open, sneaking into your room without alerting you. He was good at lowering himself down onto the tile of the bathroom, he quickly pulled out his knife, creeping closer to the shower with careful, plotted steps. He grunted underneath his breath. His hands wrapping around your face as he covers your mouth. You immediately freak out in protest.

He chuckled with an amused hum, you looked so pretty with panic on your face. Pulling you out of the shower and dragging you onto the bed, he wasn’t gentle in any way. All he could think about was claiming what he wanted, especially from a pretty little thing like you. Graves slammed you down upon the bed, listening to your frantic scream of pain, and fear. How your voice tore through the room’s silence.

“Don’t. Dont do that, cmon dear you don’t wanna end up with your throat slit do you? Or run out of the room and let everyone see what you’re ashamed of hm?” He taunted, seeing that look of failure in your eyes. He was right and you knew it. Graves knew you’d comply right up until he fucks you, he watched the fear in your eyes, the way you taunted him with that afraid look. He wanted to stare into your horrified eyes forever.

A tsk left his mouth as he shoved you down into the bed more, grabbing some duck tape and taping you to the headboard. He wanted to watch you squeal and cry. The blonde smiled, grabbing a piece of duck tape and covering your mouth with it. His eyes narrowed with enjoyment, “now that’s the pretty girl I’ve always wanted. You know pretty little things like yourself go missing all the time, and who comes looking? Nobody.” He taunted, cupping your face with his hand.

“You’d look better with some pretty lipstick you know? Most ladies do.” He rambled on, grabbing your face and some lipstick, smearing it over your tape covered lips. The red makeup staining the duck tape that firmly kept your mouth shut, you were lucky to have him at this point. It could have been some deranged man who wanted to murder you! Graves wrapped his rough hands around your neck. His hands knew no gentleness or love, no feeling of calmness or home. He wanted to strangle you right here and now but he couldn’t.

As much as your fear brought him pure ecstasy. He couldn’t apply more pressure, he just wanted to ruin you. Why was that? Why did he desire to use you but not kill you. He’s killed so much people before, he was used to slashing throats and leaving them in a ditch to die alone. How were you different.

Graves stared down at you frustrated, his hands loosened around your neck before ultimately letting go of your neck. Seeing the red marks that littered it, he removed his duster, throwing it to the side along with his hoodie and his shirt. He was built, muscles littering his body as you admired his chest, his stomach, his arms. You didn’t know any better in this moment, it was your deranged way of coping. Graves bit on his lip, sucking on it for a second and then shifting his attention back to you.

He undid his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles and stepping out of them. His boxers clung around his bulge. He put his palm over it, rubbing himself through his boxers. He didn’t kill for pleasure, he killed because he didn’t know any better. All he could think of now was you and him, a little life he’d build with you, how he’d isolate you from everything and keep you as his wife.

Sure nobody would find you, nobody would ever understand him, or his ways. He’d cover every track about you and let your case grow cold.

Graves spread your legs apart, pulling down his navy blue boxers and stepping out of those, a smirk on his face as he watched yours grow in horror. His cock was massive! Not like you’ve ever taken one but from the porn you’ve seen, he was definitely above average. You swallowed the spit that was sitting in your mouth anxiously, watching as the blonde moved closer and closer, his hand wrapped over his tip as his eyes locked onto your heat. His frontal teeth digging into his lip as he got between your legs.

Frantic cries and sobs of concern leaving you as he moved closer and closer, preying down upon you. You were nothing but prey to him and it drove graves feral. His hands gripped your thighs and parted them without a second thought.

“Yknow im a sheriff darlin? I’m sure that’s quite the news to you. But you’re gonna be staying with me, maybe you’ll have my son. I’ll teach him to be just like his daddy hm? A monster of a child. Sounds real interestin don’t it. Darling.” He grabbed a blade from the bedside table that was probably older then you, how much condoms or drugs it’s seen must be a large number of them. How much families or men like graves have slept by it. Graves brushed the blade against your cheek, letting the curved tip cut into your plump skin as he pushed his tip against your cunt.

The cut man slammed his tip into you, feeling your gummy walls clamp and stretch around his cock. The deja vu hitting him as he’s always dreamed of this moment. Of making love to someone like yourself. Teaching you all you needed was him, he shoved deeper into you. Your screamish moans muffled from the grey tape that covered your pretty lips. The way your eyes shamefully rolled back in pain and pleasure. Your body ached like no other, all Philip could think of was the way you shook as he shoved his lengthy and girthy cock into you.

He felt so blessed to be the first one to deflower you. He loved how horrified you look, you couldn’t bark back in protest, all you could do was take his cock as you were supposed to. Like your bodies intended use was for. He wanted to pump you full of his cum and let you suffer the consequences.

He’d make you live with his fucking child, he’d make you stare at your baby and remember it’s a child of rape. It’s a child you never wanted, your body didn’t want it, yet it’ll feed and support the baby.

Graves rolled his hips aggressively, his cock throbbing in and out of your cunt, your velvet walls tightening around him as you involuntarily let him. Blood staining his throbbing cock. It twitched every time your cunt tried to adjust to his massive cock.

He panted like a fucking mutt his hands desperately grabbing at your hips and letting his finger nails dig into your soft fat. He didn’t stop himself from letting out all his anger out on you. Every once of frustration and lust he’s ever experienced made its way into the sex you were having, his cock bobbed in and out of you, you could feel every vein along his girth as he stared down at you.

You looked so overworked as he pounded into you, you shouldn’t have ever gotten in his truck. This wouldn’t have happened if you had stayed with the bus. But you thought you were too good, you weren’t though. If you were good enough you wouldn’t be getting raped, only dumb girls get raped. You couldn’t even consider yourself a man at this point. Not after all the beating down and after the rape, you were just a defenseless girl.

Graves hands squeezed at your boobs, his cock thrusting deeper into you, his blissful grunts filling your ears along with your own heartbeat. You felt like puking and it was so hard to even think. The air around you both was hot and unpleasant to breathe in. The blondes hips moved forward a few more times before his thrusts got sloppy, he breathed heavily before cumming directly into your cervix. Leaving his cock inside you to hopefully shove it deeper. He wanted to get you pregnant.

He wanted to force you to have his child. Graves grabbed your teary face, watching your puffy cheeks that were stained with tears, your sore and puffy cunt was neatly wrapped around his cock. Just how god intended it to be, the way you were supposed to be.

-

A year in the future.

Graves hand was on your thigh, a little boy sat in the backseat, kicking his legs and giggling. Graves smiled at you, leaning over at he kissing your cheek. “You know you’ll have to go back to the basement after this drive right? You’re only getting this because you gave me a strong and healthy boy.” His hand squeezed at the flesh on your thigh. The look on his face was the same one he met you with, just this time you were trapped. He’d take away your son if you ever tried to misbehave or leave. That was your fault though. You were the dumb girl who got raped, you could report him. But then again, you were the dumb little girl who was taken advantage of by the town sheriff. Who was definitely loved more than you were.

-

Lmk if I should make this into a series, regular posts should start back up again soon. I have been completely focused on this.

#graves cod #philip graves x you #philip graves x reader #graves smut #graves x reader #phillip graves #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #gh0vtzb1ogz #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty headcanons #call of duty modern warfare #graves call of duty #walker masters of horror #masters of horror #smut writing #writers on tumblr #writing #cod smut #smut #cod modern warfare #writers of tumblr #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader

[deadbydad-writes]

Professor! Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcanons

Sorry I've been gone for so long, school and family stuff happened and yeah, but I'm back! And, I have a gift! There isn't enough of Professor Miguel O'Hara tbh

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had went up to you after class, asking you why you were failing your Spanish tests and why you weren't doing well on your work.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had offered to privately tutor you himself, offering to give you lessons after school and even on the weekends if possible

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had invited you to study there on the weekends, saying that it was better for him to help you there instead of some old boring classroom

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who you started to have catch feelings for, noticing how bigger he was compared to you but he was always gentle with you

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had eyed your body after sometime, admiring how you acted around him and how much you had improved with your Spanish.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who started to give you small kisses on your cheek, forehead, neck and shoulders whenever you passed a quiz or finished your work on time.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had you laid out on his own bed, his lips pressed against yours and his fingers buried deep inside your dripping cunt after you went to his house to show him your grade in his class.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had one hand gripping your waist, his palm warm against your skin as he had your legs around his own waist.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who whispered sweet praises and promises in your ear as he gripped the headboard of his bed as he fucked his large cock into your tight pussy, making you moan and squirm underneath him in pleasure.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who kissed and nibbled on your neck, saying that he would put his baby in you, mark you as his own, telling you how beautiful you would look with your belly all round and full and your tits swollen with milk.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who fucked you until you came on his cock, screaming his name as you arched your back off the bed and your nails digging into the skin of his back and shoulders.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who filled you up with his cum until you felt it drip out of you and down your thighs, whining in discomfort as he pulled out.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who cleaned the mess up with his tongue, coaxing you into another orgasm as he lapped at your soaked folds, a grin on his face as he pulled himself away from in-between your thighs.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who bathed and cleaned you, dressed you in a set of new clean panties and one of his shirts, admiring how big it was on you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who wrapped his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he placed his hands on your stomach, whispering in your ear how good of a mommy you were gonna be and how well he would treat you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who held you close and watched you fall asleep in his arms, kissing your forehead as he too drifted off to sleep.

How did I do on this? Please let me know in the comments, and hey should I do a part two of this?

If you have any suggestions, for if there is gonna be a next part to this, then please do tell me in my inbox! I would love to hear some ideas from you guys!

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this! I love you guys, and I'm so excited to be writing again!

Also, here is a link to this list!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #smut writing

[silveryclear]

MOJABI GHOST

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Ex Female Reader

CW: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Thigh and Knee Riding, Bilingual Dirty Talk, Penetration, Rough Sex, Needy, Desperate Sex, Mating Press, Cockwarming

Description: Miguel drops by your apartment after he can’t stand the silence of his penthouse. He misses you, and tonight, you’ll see just how much~

Translation done by yours truly~

Song: “MOJABI GHOST” by Tainy, ft. Bad Bunny

Smoking,

Drinking,

Fucking,

Pretending that I don’t think about you.

I don’t who I’m trying to kid,

For this feeling,

Won’t let me sleep.

And I wish,

I wish, that I could dream peacefully,

That I could dream about you.

Another night alone. Another night without you.

Miguel O'Hara looks over view of Nueva York while drinking from his third glass of whiskey on the rocks; rocks that have melted and diluted the drink that has been abandoned for thoughts about you.

The truth is that Miguel has abandoned many things because of his mind— the treacherous bitch does not stop thinking about you.

Who could ever stop thinking about you, is the question that he should be asking. But he doesn't. And he’s well aware why.

Because that would require him to accept the reality that he fucked up the only thing that had given him happiness and warmth after what had happened with his daughter. And once again, it’s something that he doesn’t allow himself to forgive.

At first, you were only a hindrance, an annoyance which he could not get rid of. You were always looking at him with that sweet expression, ready to face the next anomaly with a smile and good attitude. He couldn’t stand you. The fact that you could face every problem and tragedy, a particular characteristic of spiderpeople, without your spirit being corrupted ... he hated it. He hated it to death.

Yet, observe how easy it is for him to lie. Because in reality, he never hated you. How could he hate the one person who received him with such a unique and special warmth and affection— the woman who, one by one, took down each one of his walls, making them crumble to the ground and fall as he did when he fell in love with you. Although, too late.

He lets out a dry laugh. There is no doubt that he is Spider-Man: the people he loves never stay for long.

Isn't that how he ended up here in the first place?

He sighs, exhausted. I don't want to think anymore.

He takes a swig from the whiskey and frowns, letting out a sound of disgust from the watered down drink and decides to get back into the penthouse. He looks around.

And now what?

Fuck this pity party. Miguel may not be in his five senses at the moment, but he doesn’t think twice before activating his nanotech suit and traveling to your dimension. He doesn't know what is the right to do; If you prefer your space, that he never contacts you again. All he knows is that he cannot stand this purgatory; and that your screams and curses are better than the overwhelming silence of his apartment.

As soon as he steps out of the portal into your apartment, you can already sense each other. It is almost impossible to sneak up on a Spider person, that's why he isn’t surprised when he finds you sitting in your living room, staring at him without blinking.

"What are you doing here?" You ask without emotion after several seconds of silence.

"You know what I came for." he says as he removes his mask and approaches your figure. However, your cold look stops him in his tracks.

“I don't care. I want you to say it.” you say while you stare into his eyes sharply. He deserves it. "Be direct for once in your life."

"Hey," he warns, baring his fangs. “Don’t push it.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, ignoring his warning. "Then leave. I was clear: don't come back until you tell me how you really feel.”

"Don't you think I want to?!" Miguel shouts, frustrated; Not with you. Never with you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, controlling his anger. When he opens his eyes, you’re surprised to see actual remorse. "I'm dying to have you in my arms again..."

You can’t help to soften your expression when you caught the frustration in his voice and how difficult it is to express his true emotions at the moment. "Then why the hesitation?" You ask softly, your voice a sweet melody to his ears. Then, a sudden thought makes your blood run cold. “...unless I wasn’t good enough for you.” Your voice trembles and you can't suppress the tears that arise.

Miguel’s face falls and without thinking twice, he runs to you and hugs you tightly, snaking an arm around your waist and his hand behind your neck. He listens as you sob into chest and he brings you even closer, his hand gently stroking your back. "Shh... no, my love, that can’t be further away from the truth." He whispers softly into your ear. "I am the one who’s not good enough for you."

Miguel lets out a dry, incredulous laugh. “I'm the worst… to cause the most wonderful woman in all of the multiverse to think the opposite…” He presses a kiss against your forehead and brings you closer to him. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please, forgive me for being such a coward.” He murmurs apologetically as he buries his face into your neck and breathes in your scent.

God, how I missed this smell~

He leans back and stares into your eyes, stroking your cheeks and wiping your tears.

"I love you," he declares, more confident than ever. "I don't want to keep loving you from afar. I don’t want to run away, fearing that one day I will lose you if it also keeps you far from my arms.” He presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and whispering the last few words full of emotion, "If I still lose you...”

"God, Miguel..." You crumble once again and hug him tightly. "I love you so much," you confess in the midst of tears. "I’m afraid too, we are both spider people, we both risk our lives to prevent Multiverse from collapsing… our job is dangerous and it is painful to think about the great possibility that I could lose you,” You look into his eyes, holding his face in your hands. "But it hurts more to have you so close, and not by my side."

"I know..." He whispers as he leans towards your sweet touch. “I'm such an idiot. I thought I was protecting you from the pain, but in reality, I hurt you even more.” He stares into your eyes, his gaze full of remorse. "You could forgive this fool in love?"

You laugh softly and Miguel swears that his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, you look at him with a mischievous smile. "Hmm, I don't know..."

Miguel groans and looks at you with desperation, as if he needed to hear that he has been forgiven to be calm. "Love, please..." He whimpers softly against your neck, kissing it sensually.

Your grin becomes wider and playful. You take his chin and make him look into your eyes. "But you sound so nice, Miguelito~” You purr. “Do it again~”

Shit...

Miguel feels how his cheeks redden and he short circuits when he hears your playful and dominant voice. It was a side of you that he had never seen. Or rather, one he never tried to get to know. He was so obsessed with controlling everything that he never realized that he kept you from expressing yourself around him.

Damn ... he definitely deserves to beg to you.

"My love..." He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please, I beg you... Forgive me. Let me show you how sorry I am.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of the most stoic and stubborn man in the multiverse kneeling in front of you, begging like a dog. Is this a dream? More like a miracle.

"Wow... You really missed me, didn't you, Miguelito~?"

Miguel takes your hand and kisses your palm, staring into your eyes. "You have no idea." He whispers. Your heart skips a beat, blood rushing through your veins at an extreme speed. You feel the love that this man has for you and you cannot avoid the genuine smile that grows in your face.

You place your arms around his neck and you kiss his cheek. "I forgive you. Show me exactly how sorry you are~"

It takes Miguel less than two seconds before he is on top of you, your back on the sofa while his knee separates your legs. It seems as if all your confidence disappears as soon as Miguel touches you, his large hands gripping your waist. You feel tempted to deviate your gaze, but his crimson eyes keep you paralyzed under their intensity, full of lust.

"Oh baby..." he lets out a soft growl as his lips brush against your neck, making you shiver once more. “Eres mía~” (You’re mine~)

His fingers quickly disrobe you, his lips kissing every inch of your soft skin. His breathing quickens, breathing hot and heavy as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, hand groping the other. He lets out soft grunts and moans of pleasure as he worships your chest, sucking and biting, leaving wet hot marks on your skin.

You grab onto his hair, your back arching off from the couch as he continues his assault. He lets out a particularly long groan when he feels you grind your wet pussy on his knee. He chuckles darkly and presses onto you even harder, making you shiver and moan in delight.

“That’s it mami…” he growls, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Grind that needy pussy on me… make yourself feel good.”

A sound of pleasure escapes from your lips. You close your eyes and decide to immerse yourself in the pleasure that both have refused for too long— no longer wanting to deprive your body of what it craves; and your heart from the one you love.

Your arms wrap around his neck, hips bucking against his clothed knee, soaking the nanotech fabric. He can only watch in awe how easy it was to reduce you to a sensitive mess— rubbing and pressing his thigh against your throbbing pussy, gripping your hips tighter as he guides you.

“Oh fuckkkk… Miguel…” The way you so readily give your body to him— it awakens a primal side to him that even he didn’t realize he had. The need to explore how many times he can make you cum without fucking you with his cock had his mind reeling from the possibilities.

Should he finger you now? Should he make you cum on his tongue? Ride his face?

“Miguel… oh Miguel~” you mewl, the squelching sound of your juices on his leg echoing in the room. Small puffs of hot air leave past your lips, your hips bucking so needy and desperate for friction.

However the night ends, what he does know is that he so desperately craves to hear you whine his name like that again.

“Come on, cariño…” he keeps rutting your hips against his thigh, now unclothed as his dick strains against the nanotech clothing that covers his groin. “What do you need~?”

“Need you…” You pant out, chest heaving rapidly. “Need you inside… please Miguel~”

He chuckles darkly. “Already? But baby, we just started~” He teases, slowing down the rubbing against your clit, making you whine in frustration.

“Fuck that! I missed you, maldito!” You growl, making Miguel’s eyes widen when you voice out your frustrations.

This makes Miguel chuckle heartedly, gazing down at you with affection and primal lust. “You missed my cock that much, baby~?”

“Not your cock. You.” This startles Miguel, actually making him blush. His chest fills with so much love and affection for you. God, he needs you so badly.

“Te amo, mi arañita…” (I love you, my little spider…) Miguel murmurs softly before leaning down and claiming your lips softly. A low moans escape from your lips as you feel just how serious he is. “Missed you… missed your touch…” he breathes out against your neck once he pulls away, his lips brushing against your skin. Miguel shivers and groans, loving the way your warm, soft skin feels against his. You can only watch as he worships you, too paralyzed by this feeling to speak. “Missed your smell…” he inhales your scent softly before pressing a kiss on your neck. “Missed your voice… let me hear it please…”

“Ahhhh… Miguel…” you find your voice, breathing out your response as your chest rises and falls rapidly, trembling underneath him.

“Fuck…” he groans from your needy voice. Miguel trails wet kisses down your hot skin, licking away your sweat. His fangs lightly graze your thighs, teasing you with his tongue. He chuckles when you arch your back, whimpering his name, begging to take you— to do something already!

He grins as he kisses the inside of your thigh. “You’ve never been very patient.”

You whine, your hand making it��s way to his hair and tugging him closer to your throbbing pussy. He chuckles and licks a long, agonizing swipe along your glistening folds, making you groan in response. “Good thing I’ve never been very patient either~”

Miguel takes his time, swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices— yet, the way that he grips your thighs, so close to digging his claws into your skin while he groans from your taste— it only makes him look more desperate and feral than when he first begged for you.

You jolt and shiver in delight, the drag of his fat, warm tongue bringing you to heights of pleasure you only had the joy of experiencing with Miguel. The feelings of pleasure were so delicious and excruciating, it makes you buck your hips against his face. You grind your pussy on his face unashamedly, his nose brushing against your clit deliciously.

Watching from below, how your hips arch and you tug harder on his hair is all that Miguel needed to die happily. His groans and harsh breathing muffled by your desperate grinding.

“Mmm… shlppp… mmnh…” His eyes remain trained on your cute expressions, a particularly harsh suck of your clit eliciting a whiny moan from you that had him reeling.

“Fuck… Miguel…! I’m so close!” You whine so pretty and needy. His claws digging dig into your thighs, pressing his face harder against your cunt as he eats you out like an animal.

Miguel moans against your cunt, murmuring for you to cum on his tongue, to do it now. It comes out a wet, muffled mess, but you didn’t care. You were already a moaning mess as you came, spreading your juices all over Miguel’s face. His tongue works on your core like a man dying of thirst, lapping up every drop of your juices and overstimulating the fuck out of you. He never came up for air, submerged between your thighs, delving his tongue deeper, sucking harder. This is where he belongs.

“Mi— Miguel! It’s too much..!” You whine, trying to push his head away but he’s glued to your pussy— and he’s not moving until he’s licked you clean.

After a few more seconds, he gives your pussy one last lick before he comes back up, his tongue hanging out as he smiles smugly. You twitch and writhe underneath him from the overstimulation, gazing at him with a satisfied and dazed expression. He tantalizingly drags his long tongue around his mouth, lips, chin… cleaning up your cum from his face, making sure you watch. “Dios mío, que rico sabes mami~” (My god, you taste delicious mami~)

You whimper, your hole twitching at the erotic display. Miguel watches as your pussy flutters with primal lust, smiling at you like a predator. “You liked that, baby? Do you still want more?”

Before you could respond, Miguel is on top of you, claiming your lips in a hot, sensual kiss. You groan at the taste of yourself on his lips, this only turning you on even further. He grips your ass, bringing your wet core towards his now fully unclothed and erect cock.

“Mmmngh… mmnh… ahhhhh…” You whimper into the kiss as he grinds his cock against your sensitive folds, spreading your juices all over.

“You want this cock, baby? Huh? I can’t hear you. Tell me how badly you want me. Tell me. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” Miguel whispered into your ear as he kept grinding himself against you, teasing you once again. You can only cry out, frustration building up inside of you as you feel your hole squeezing against nothing, craving his thick cock.

“Please… Miguel…”

“Dime lo que quieres preciosa… ¿quieres que te lo meta? ¿Sí? ¿Quieres que te coja?” (Tell me what you want, precious… you want me to put it in? Yeah? You want me to fuck you?)

“Yes, Miguel! Just… please!”

As much as he loves teasing you, he needed to nestle his cock inside of you. Right. Now.

“M’gonna bury this cock deep inside you… make sure your pussy remembers the shape of my cock…” He chuckles as he lines himself up with your hole and slowly pushes his cock past that first, tight ring inside your cunt. “Fuck… such a tight fit… bet you didn’t fuck anyone with a dick as big as mine…” he groans and pushes further. “no other cock can stretch you out like mine can…”

“No one… only you…” you breathe out in satisfaction as you finally feel your pussy getting full. “M’so full…”

Miguel lets out a string of curses and groans at the feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him. “Yeah, that’s right baby… only my cock can fill you up this good.” He smirks as he looks down at you, caged between his arms and large body. “Gonna let me fuck this pussy, huh? Want me to pound you until you can’t think?”

“Yes, Miguel! Yes!”

That’s all the confirmation he needed before he started rutting his hips against yours at a fast pace. No time to start slow, no. This is the type of desperate and primal sex that lovers have after they’ve gone a long time without seeing each other. The type that builds up overtime only to be released in the heated thrust of each other’s hips. The type that has you moaning out gibberish and wrapping your arms and legs around him as Miguel thrusts his hard cock inside, going feral on your pussy.

“Fuck… I missed this… I missed you…” Miguel grunts with every thrust, small puffs of air leaving his lips as he ruts even faster, deeper. His muscles flex with every movement. He presses his hot body against yours, feeling your tits brush against his chest with every thrust.

“M-Miguel… please… harder!” You moan, digging your nails into his broad back.

“Yes…” his voice is so rough, so hungry that it’s almost jarring. Every word he says, every look on his face seems to radiate his intense feelings for you.

He needs you, oh, does he need you.

His arms are like steel on your body, keeping you still within his grasp, and he makes you feel every inch of him, pounding himself into you in a frenzy. This is what he had been looking for, needing. He fills your entire existence for just a moment, completely and utterly enraptured by you.

“Te amo… te amo tanto…” (I love you… I love you so much…) he whispers into your ear, biting and sucking on it. One of his hands makes its way between your legs as he rubs your clit. “Ven conmigo, bebé… I need you to cum with me…” (Come with me, baby…)

“Miguel! Ohh… I’m g- Mmm… Ahhhh~!” Your moans are muffled by his lips against yours. The pounding of his cock, his thumb rubbing your pussy, and this hot, searing kiss was all you needed to finally let go. Squelching hot cum bathes Miguel’s cock and balls as you tremble and writhe in ecstasy.

“That’s it, baby… god, you did so good…” he groans, placing your forehead against his as he ruts his hips faster. Grunting as he chases his own release. Not long after, Miguel is cumming inside your pussy, spurting hot loads of his cum so deep you can feel it in your womb. The moans he lets out sound so raw and desperate, you feel like you’re watching a whole other person.

He sighs in satisfaction, pressing a kiss on your forehead before laying down besides you. He pulls you into his body, his cock twitching as he keeps it nestled deep inside your cunt.

“Fuck… I don’t think I’ve ever come this much…” Miguel lets out a breathy laugh and you look at him in awe. The afterglow of your session makes him look so… ethereal. You blush and involuntarily clench your pussy around his cock.

Miguel chuckles. “I felt that, preciosa~”

You roll your eyes and look away from him, flustered. “Then take it out!”

“Mmm… why should I~? I very much prefer having you close like this.” Miguel inhales in your scent and presses a tender kiss on your neck. The action flusters you further, making you blush at his sweetness and his opposing teasing.

“Te amo, mi vida…” (I love you, my life..) He whispers softly as he closes his eyes, bringing you closer into his embrace.

You smile softly and close your eyes as well, slowly dozing off. Not before you utter the same words back, “Te amo, Miguelito~”

.

.

.

.

A/N: A little fun fact: this fic was originally written in Spanish first because I wanted to practice writing (specifically smut) in my native language. I might end up posting both languages on AO3.

#fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #smut #smut writing

[dewdropdinosaur]

White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT

Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option.

Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles

I have never written smut before...so I am sorry.

REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride. 

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby. 

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored. 

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin. 

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment. 

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue. 

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks. 

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's. 

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core. 

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck. 

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body.​​ Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole. 

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place. 

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time. 

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much. 

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars. 

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly. 

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #answered #vizziepop #radio killed the video star #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor smut #smut writing #no plot whatsoever #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #Hazbin Hotel smut #jealous alastor #jealousy #take that depression #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #the radio demon #radiostatic #radioapple #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer smut

[bunnysbrainrot]

Too Sweet

A series inspired by Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Content: No sexually explicit content, at least not yet. Some slight fluff? Slow burn vibes? Joel is kind of a dick (for once in my writings), but a protective dick.

Summary: You’re one of the newest arrivals in Jackson after a long trip to seek refuge. Now that you’re settling in, one of Jackson’s most integral men is the head of your first patrol. Will Joel be able to set aside that gruff demeanor for the sake of meeting someone new?

A/N: I’m so sorry about my recent hiatus, everyone. I’ve thought of this series for a while, to get me inspired again and to work towards something bigger. I’ve also thought about having some sections/chapters be from Joel’s perspective. Thoughts on that? Sorry it’s nothing spicy yet, but we’ll work up to it. Tensionnnn

The sound of birds echoed outside your bedroom window. By some miracle, you’d found a community, after so many months wandering either alone, or with the occasional group, but never for long. The mattress beneath you squeaks as you shift in your bed. Normally an irksome noise, but it reminded you that you were finally safe.

A faint light of dawn trickles through the gaps in the curtains, streaking around the room in a periwinkle hue. Your sluggish grog was slowly wearing off, while you processed your plans for that day. It was a Thursday, according to your new watch. God, you hadn’t realized how much you missed being able to tell the time. Who knows truly how long you’d been out there. Days blurring together, the minutes excruciatingly drawn out without company.

It was nice to be a part of something again.

Finally, you sat up in bed, rolling your head to stretch your neck. How long had it been since you had a proper pillow?

A smile crept onto your face. You’re better rested than ever, but an anxiety still ate away at you. Today was your first patrol outside of Jackson. You weren’t alone, of course, but the expectations you held for yourself could be your downfall.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you whispered to yourself.

Walking over to your dresser, you eyed yourself in a dusty mirror above the chest of drawers. A kind woman named Maria had provided you with a few new outfits when you’d first arrived a week ago. In the meantime until today, she’d given you those days to process and settle, and you were grateful for her patience.

When Maria had asked you what role you’d like in the community, she could see the steely glint in your eyes. Well seasoned from years of fighting and running, yet still a kernel of a protective rage.

You had expressed to her of your journey before finding Jackson. On that day she asked you how many of the dead you had taken out thus far.

“In total, by myself, well over three hundred, I would say. I don’t know, I think I lost track at some point.”

Her expression shifted to one of assurance, like they’d just gotten a worthy addition to their town. Someone who could protect what they’d all built.

She explained the basics of patrols, the routes laid out on an old map, with hand drawn trails and indicators of the area. You made an attempt to remember as much as you could, but surely you’d get good practice being out there, actually doing it.

————

You check yourself before heading out the front door. This time of year, the weather has started to warm up, so your opted for a t-shirt, jeans, a light jacket, and a ‘new’ pair of hand-me-down boots.

The air outside was cleaner than you’d imagined. The scent of early morning breakfasts wafted through the breeze, bringing a pang to your stomach. Maria hadn’t mentioned how long patrols would take; you debated if you had time to grab something from a stall in the heart of town. Other residents had been given spaces to cook for the community, giving out easy meals for these hardworking people.

Turns out you did have time, to your relief. In a matter of minutes, you held a piping hot breakfast sandwich in your hands, its heat seeping into your chilled fingers.

A few folks wave a friendly ‘hello’ as you trek to the Southern side of Jackson, to its border wall to meet up with your patrol group. There was a huddle of both peiple and horses, you noticed, as you got closer. One of the people turned to you, giving a wave in recognition.

“Hi, am I late? I thought I’d have time to get breakfast,” you explained.

There was a woman with kind eyes who spoke next, “Not at all, these bastards just insist on getting up at 5:30.”

“That sure is an early start.”

“It gets them cranky like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied, quickly cut off by a new voice.

It was a gentleman who called to the group, “We all here?”

His voice wasn’t commanding, but it did put people into gear to check themselves. Clearly he was the one in charge of this patrol. The look in his eyes told you all you needed to know.

He might be someone to watch.

You turn to the woman, “I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know anyone here yet. Is there any way you could give me a run-down of who everyone is?”

With a smile, she listed off the names of your group members, pointing them out. Some of them noticed and waved, others gave a slight smile, and others asked for your name. All were introduced until it was down to the man who’d rounded the group.

“And, that’s Joel. He’s head of the patrol.”

Your eyes shot to Joel now that you could put a name to the face. There was a moment of pause when you met his gaze, a moment frozen in time from his stare. He scanned over your face, down to your shoddy boots, and back to your eyes.

His expression doesn’t soften as he says, “Glad to have ya with us. Should be a horse on the way for you.”

Joel turns to face the gate as he rummages through his pockets for a folded map. He unfolds the paper until it spans across his horse’s shoulders.

The rhythmic clonk of a horse’s hooves came from behind. A familiar face approached with a stunning mare, it’s Maria.

“Mornin’ everyone, that should be it,” Maria traded off with you, handing you the mare’s lead. She spoke louder, announcing to the group. “Y’all stay safe out there. Shouldn’t be too bad, but it is getting warmer. Keep an eye out for groups.”

Members of your party nodded before Maria walked off, giving greetings to other folks who’d just begun to bustle around.

Your attention shifted back, specifically to Joel. It seemed that whatever he says, goes, so that’s what you’d follow.

Two men at the top of the wall made their way to the edges of the gate, hauling it open. Golden sunlight peeked above the mountains ahead, casting the world in a yellow glow.

Joel nodded, then a gruff, “Be smart. Stay close.”

————

The sun was overhead now. You’d been out here for hours, keeping an eye out for any infected that roamed too close to camp. A while ago, you spotted one trapped in an abandoned cabin. Which was quickly dispatched by one of the men in your party.

That cycle repeated almost wordlessly amongst you all. Hardly a single word had been uttered aside from Joel’s occasional command or redirection.

For the most part, things were going smoothly. And after a few minutes of some peace and quiet, you realized you’d strayed away from your spot in the formation. Your horse had fallen in pace with a beautiful brown stallion, riding on top, was none other than the leader.

Joel.

You’d turned to see who it was, but were quickly met with another intense stare. Your gaze darts to the side as you issue an apology, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get so ahead of everyone.”

For the first time his expression does soften. A slight hint or kindness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his slight smile.

“It happens. Just… keep a lil’ distance. You’re new, can’t have you rushing ahead without someone else with you.”

The words would form a lecture if it weren’t for his tone. It wasn’t scrutinizing, but rather soft and protective.

His advice brings a smile out of you. A genuine one, for the first time in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as you’d assumed. You tug your horse’s reins to slow her pace, creating a few feet of space between you and Joel.

Yet even still, that smile he gave you kept your heart racing.

It would be a horrible idea, to fawn after him.

Right?

That thought had no effect on the tightness in your chest, or the fluttering in your stomach. Perhaps it was simply happiness that someone so hardened could be so easily friendly. A hard exhale later, you told yourself that it was the camaraderie that flustered you.

—

The group had made their journey back to town. Aside from the occasional runner, there wasn’t much defense needed this morning. Once your group returned, you’d have lunch and trade off with the next group, and share your findings before they venture out.

You had let your mind wander as you rode with the group.

In a split second, your mare bucks in fright. There was no time to assess what scared her before you were shooting ahead, flying past your patrol group.

“Nonononono- NO! It’s alright, it’s alright-“ you cry, but it falls on deaf ears of a scared animal. Tugging on the reins made no difference. You still shot ahead of the others, directionless without someone to guide you.

“It’s alright, baby, you’re safe! You’re okay. It’s gone!” You plead to the horse to slow down. The reassurances don’t seem to be enough.

A thundering set of footsteps is heard behind you. In a swift move, Joel jabbed his horse with his heel, pushing himself to race ahead of you.

With the rush of the air and galloping hooves, you could hardly make out his instructions.

“What?!” You shouted.

“Pull the reins! And I mean pull!”

You gripped the leather of the reins, drawing them to your chest, tugging your horse’s head back and away. Her pace slowed, but she kept running, now to the left. You could make out a curse from Joel as he redirected.

In a stroke of luck, he made some headway. Joel’s horse zoomed forward, and merged directly in front of yours, and the interruption slowed the mare’s pace just enough.

Another tug of the reins helps her into a steady beat. Joel was directly ahead, now turned to the side to block more of the path. Your horse huffed and threw her head frustratedly. In that short time you had no clue just how far you’d strayed away - looking backwards told you that it was at least a few hundred meters.

Embarrassment showed in your flushed cheeks and wild expression, looking to Joel for some sort of scolding.

“I think something scared her. I.. I didn’t get a chance to see, it all happened so fast-“

Joel raised a hand to stop you mid-sentence. He didn’t wear a smile like before, but his expression wasn’t angry. If anything, he had that protective look once again.

“I know. They’re skittish, ‘specially her. She needs a little more control than the others.”

It’s a reassurance, truthfully. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t on the shit list on the first day. Your breathing had slowed down now, though your heart still raced wildly in your chest.

He scanned your face thoroughly before he asked, “You alright?”

A nod is what you could muster. It’s enough for Joel to give a nod back before waving to the folks behind you, the rest of the group, to call them over.

“Maybe next time I’ll have a more confident horse. No offense….” you paused, “what’s her name?”

Joel’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’s Belle you’re ridin’. Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while, so she’s not as warmed up to this. But you did good with her, all things considered. Handled it well.”

You reached down to pat Belle on the side of her cheek, caressing her carefully.

“It’s okay, Belle. We’re with you. You’re alright now.”

A smile vanished from Joel’s face when you look back up at him. He cleared his throat, his eyes skirting away until your party began to join up with you two.

“It’s all good. Belle got the jitters. Let’s head home.”

With that explanation out of the way, the team could finally resume their return home. Along the way, Joel didn’t have much else to say, much to anyone actually. His silence was solemn - definitely not any invitation to strike up conversation.

Perhaps that’s how he’d always be - resigned, reserved, and off limits to everyone. A part of you ached at the thought of it.

For Joel, that loneliness could be his downfall.

Hi guys! Thanks for reading, I’m sorry if it seems a little boring, but it’s for the sake of the story building. TRUST it will get nasty soon. 🥰

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