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berry-potchy · 9 months

Text

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

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Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 19 days

Note

Have you by chance seen if Grim got a new bow in the JP event? I’d hope it looks better than the event sprites haha…

Yup, Grim does, in fact, get a slick new look for this event! I made a post commenting on it (which you can see here!).

Looking at the 2D models for the event characters though… They aren’t bad, but definitely not my style. I feel like the individual elements can look good, but it’s a bit much when out all together…

Not sure if I’m a fan of Jamil’s super baggy pants or Azul’s wide sleeves; I would have liked them tailored more. Azul’s sleeves would be fine if not for the current position in the pose; I believe they are supposed to “open” due to the generous slit in it, similar to the Pomefiore dorm uniform sleeves. As it’s depicted here, it’s stiff.

Ace looks the least odd to me of the group overall, but I do like Jamil’s hair, jacket, and makeup in the 2D model (it’s Too Much for me in the card initial art, probably bc the pose places his braid in the middle of his face and looks a little out of place). Azul really got the short end of the stick… His hair lost a lot of volume which saddens me :(( I like his usual floofier hair… Jamil and Azul’s coats also look a little heavy because of how the gems are concentrated on their lapels, not sure how comfy that would be to walk around in.

I appreciate Vil’s look for what it is (he is the concept of gender itself), but I don’t really care for the low cut top or the gloves…? (I noticed several people pointing out how they look like the Thanos gloves which makes me giggle 😂) The hair and coat itself are fine, but again I find the makeup to be too heavy.

Again, don’t hate the them but don’t love’m either. There was definitely a lot of thought put into these looks from the devs, it just appeals to a certain crowd that doesn’t include me. Maybe I don’t get high fashion www but really, I think it’s just the 2D models making the outfits unflattering?? They look a lot better in all the fan art I’ve seen, so maybe the real problem is that the construction of them appears stiff and immobile in the game specifically.

What I will say, however, is that the chibi animations are very cute! I love seeing Vil strut around… and it’s sort of funny seeing Ace and Jamil fight with makeup and perfume.

kabejdbskwj They look like those department store salespeople who hound you to sample whatever it is they’re selling… (Azul’s freebie card is time gated right now so we don’t have his yet, but that vibe totally suits him, doesn’t it???)

#twisted wonderland #twst #Vil Schoenheit #Azul Ashengrotto #Jamil Viper #Ace Trappola #Grim #jp spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #Thanos

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dracoxsworld · 1 year

Text

What it Would Be Like To Date George Weasley

summary: I love George so here’s what it’s like to be his partner (: gender-neutral and no warnings <3

a/n: You guys I am so sorry I’ve been SO busy. I have a new puppy, and i’m almost finished with my dental assisting certification, and I’ve been sick of the flu on top of that (,: But I’m working really hard so hopefully I can make good money 🤪 I’m also planning to move across the country by the end of this year because the state i’m in atm is just not cutting it 😃

He messes with you A LOT

The man always finds a way to prank you or tease you

But Fred always helps you get back at him LOL.

For example, replacing every. single. one of his Bertie Bott’s Jelly beans with horrid flavors.

He’s the type of guy to always carry your bag, jacket, even if it’s in a feminine style he’d werk it.

You’re always on his lap, ALWAYS.

In the common room, door room, when you guys are home for the holidays, etc.

You can always count on him to sneak you out of detention

Mostly because he’s the reason you’re in detention, mostly because he convinces you to sneak out with him at night when you’re supposed to be in bed

Adores you, of course. Always reminds you of how beautiful you are.

He spoils you in every way he can, especially after graduation.

gets you a job at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, it takes a lot on convincing because you’ll now be dealing with two weasley’s, that are twins, constantly.

But you end up loving the job, you two get to always be together after all.

He’s the protective type surprisingly. He tries to make himself look all confident and such, but he tends to be insecure which turns into jealousy/overprotectiveness.

Bro is the biggest simp ever

You know the classic thing where the guy throws his super nice suit jacket over a puddle so his partner can walk across? yeah that’s George.

He’s super clingy, I mean, you are too but he’s a whole different level.

His family LOVES you of course. every holiday Mr. & Mrs. Weasley always ask about a wedding or kids. Which makes you and George get flustered of course.

You both love to travel after you graduate, to visit Billy, explore other lands, etc.

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley #harry potter masterlist #harry potter #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley fanfiction

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pumpkinologists · 9 months

Text

Haircut

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You help Spencer pick out his new haircut

Warnings: None

Enjoy!

"Should I get a haircut?" It was the first thing said to you when Spencer walked in the door. "I'm really thinking I should go shorter. Also, strands are always falling in my face when I'm trying to work; it's honestly annoying." Before he could get another sentence out, you cut him off. "Spence, slow down." You watched as his hands fell, and a shy smile appeared on his face. "Sorry."

Your face was screwed up in thought, taking in what he had said. "What kind of style?" you asked, trying to picture Spencer with anything other than the longer hair he currently had. "Hmm," his eyes moved pensively to the side, "Would you help me decide? I'm really not that fantastic at styles," he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck as blush spread across his cheeks.

With a smile on your face, you nodded, "I can help." At that point, he quickly set down his shoulder bag and started to dig through it for something. Finally, he pulled out a magazine and said, "I got this from the store. It's a catalog of different hairstyles that suit different face shapes, eye shapes, and body shapes, and yeah," he held it up by his eager-looking face.

Nodding, you gestured your hand to the couch, saying, "This might take a little while; let's go sit." He nodded and followed you to the couch, sitting down beside you. "Okay, so," he started right away, leaving no time to spare, "I was skimming through it and it said something about face shape being the main deciding factor." He paused and squinted at the page he had flipped too. "I'm really not sure which I am though." He pouted his lips in thought, jutting out his bottom lip and puffing his cheeks slightly.

"Let me help," you grinned as he looked at you like you were a genius. He handed you the magazine and pointed to where the demonstration of face shapes was. You thought for a second, looking at the models and labels, then looking back at Spencer's face, comparing them. None of them quite looked correct until you got to one that looked similar: "Diamond? Maybe?" You held the page up to his face and leaned forward, trying to get a closer look.

You shook your head, "That's not right." Tapping your chin in thought, you brought the magazine back down onto your lap and inspected it again. It still wasn't right. Just as your eyes skimmed over the page one more time, about ready to give up, you saw one that was perfect: "Square!" Your eyes went wide with joy. "Jeez, how could I have missed that? It's almost identical." You muttered with a small frown.

Spencer nodded as he looked at the model that was labeled 'square'. He nodded his head in approval, saying, "I was stuck in between square and diamond myself, and now that you mention it, it is pretty similar to my face."

Still grinning, you adjusted yourself, leaning in to look at the pages Spencer was flipping through. "So, these are the haircuts that are supposed to suit my face shape, then," he murmured. You moved over closer to him, touching your thigh to his. "Here." You patted the space where both of your thighs met. Without looking up, he gave you the other end of the magazine to hold while it rested between you both.

Slouching down to the page, you saw a hairstyle that caught your eye. "What about this one?" A hum of thought came from Spencer; he shook his head and said, "It’s too short; I still want some length." You nodded at his request and flipped the page once you were sure that he was done looking. Come to find out most hairstyles suit Spencer’s face shape, so it was rather difficult to choose.

A sigh left your lips after Spencer said no to yet another hairstyle you suggested. "You’re picky." You frowned. "I’m just not so sure what I want," he said, sounding a little annoyed. You shrugged, rolling your eyes. You had nowhere to be, and it wasn’t like you weren’t going to spend all night with him anyway. Rubbing your temples, you tried to sound as reassuring as possible: "I’ve got all night, Spence; take your time."

You both sat there for another solid ten minutes. Somewhere in that time period, you opted to lay back against the couch, your legs splayed across Spencer’s lap. He just kept flipping back and forth through the same pages. "Are you comparing?" you yawned. He bobbed his head lightly. "Let me see," you asked, reaching for the magazine. He took one last look before giving it to you. "Numbers twenty-one and seven," he said, answering the question you didn’t even ask.

Spencer’s eyes watched your reactions carefully. He tapped your shins rhythmically, squinting at your expression. You looked between the models and Spencer and then back again. Hmm," he was right; it was a hard decision. It was between a shaggy style that looks like a member of One Direction would sport and a smart-looking style that was longer at the top and back, with hair slicked back at the sides.

"Seven," you decided on the one direction looking one, liking the length. You handed the catalog back to Spencer, who was now nodding his head in agreement: "Sevens good." You smiled triumphantly and sat up. "That took longer than I thought," you stretched, yawning once again. He agreed, setting the magazine on the coffee table with a light smack.

You slouched over, sitting at the edge of the couch. "I don’t know about you, but that drained me." It was your way of saying, Let’s go to bed, and Spencer agreed. He stood up from the couch and stretched his arms above his head with a small groan. "I’ll go tomorrow; I have the day off." You smiled sleepily. "Send me a picture when it’s done."

In the comfortable silence that followed, there seemed to be a mutual agreement. Spencer held his hand out to help you up from the couch. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he gently gripped your waist. Making eye contact, you smiled at each other softly. "I’m sure your gorgeous head would look good with any haircut, but," you gave his lips a quick peck, "Right now I’m tired of thinking of hair, so let’s go to bed."

#fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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cosmal · 1 year

Note

umm what about!!! sirius or james comforting you when you get a haircut and don’t really like it at first. because I always hate fresh haircuts before I get used to it (especially when the hairdresser styles it weird lolzies)

haircut

summary — you hate your new haircut but sirius makes you feel better.

content — sirius black x fem!reader

note — this is unedited and so so i’m sorry baby

You're supposed to meet Sirius at the cafe around the corner. You really don't want to. You want to go home, find a hat maybe, maybe wash your hair for three hours until it magically all grows back.

You don't want to see your boyfriend awkwardly try to tell you your new haircut looks good, because you really hate it. It's way too short and weirdly cut around your ears. You think it might be uneven around your neck but you can't see it properly.

You reach the cafe and tug the hair down around your ears cruelly, and don't even realise you're crying. Tiny tears splash down your cheeks and curve into your mouth. You wipe them with the back of your hand and sniffle, steeling yourself before you see Sirius.

You find him, at a table in the corner with his pretty legs crossed and a mug to his lips. Reading something on his phone. You cross the cafe and hold your breath.

Your knees knock into the mosaic table and Sirius looks up. He stands quickly and he's already smiling. So wide you think it might hurt. "Oh my god," he says cheerfully. Your bottom lips juts out. "Baby, it looks so good!'

He reaches up to run his hands gently through your hair. He twirls a lock around his finger, eyes bright and wide. It feels funny because you really hate it. He's gotta be lying to save you. You turn your face to hide in his hand and he cups your cheek.

"You don't like it?" He's doubling down, startled to find your face a little wet under his palm. You shake your head in his hands and he coos. "Really?"

"No, look at it." You take your hair into your hands and tug at it gently, still, a tad peeved. He frowns.

"I am, honey," he laughs a little. "It looks good, I love it!"

"Don't lie to me."

"What?" He knocks your pouty lip with a bent knuckly gently. "I'm so serious with you right now. It looks amazing."

"The hairdresser must've been drunk." You're so sincere about it, Sirius almost laughs some more. He decides against it. "It's all choppy and crooked,"

"It's not," he says. "Would I lie to you?"

"Probably," you grumble.

He smooths his hands over your head and is smiling so genuinely you think you might feel a little bit better. You're not sure if you despise him for how he makes you feel, because you truly don't like your haircut, but he's looking at it so softly, like he's never liked something more in his life.

His eyes glimmer and his mouth twitches. "Lovely." He's speaking so softly that he's hard to be heard over the cafe. There are no more than five people in here. "It looks amazing. I promise. God," he's doubling down to save himself, lest he look like a total sap right here and now, "you look so pretty." He swallows.

"Do you really mean that?" It's a silly question, really. Sirius is a really good liar but you don't think he'd ever lie to you about this. He hates to see you upset but he'd rather be truthful.

"Of course," he says, hands finding their place on your shoulders. "Really. It suits you so well."

You probably should believe him. You've no reason not to.

You sit down in the seat in front of him in case you do something stupid like hug him in the middle of the cafe until your legs are sore. Sirius seems mildly put out. He sits down with you and doesn't waste time grabbing your hand.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. You use your free hand to take his mug and hold it to your lips. "Am I being stupid?" you ask before you take a sip.

He takes the mug back when you give it to him, quick to speak. "No, it's okay. It might just need to be styled differently. You know what you like."

"Yeah," you hum.

There's a silence where Sirius can tell you're thinking about your hair still. "You want me to order you a muffin?"

You smile and Sirius feels a little better. "And a chai latte?"

"Of course."

Sirius starts chatting away and you forget about you hair almost immediately.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x female reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black imagine #sirius black fan fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurb #marauder #marauders #the marauders #the marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader #sirius black fluff

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solar-wing · 9 months

Text

⚣ Duke To The Rescue 💈

⚣💈A/N → Usually, I write my reader characters as general as possible in all manors of looks and traits so as many people as possible can relate (whether male or g/n). But, I wanted to give some special attention since I rarely see any content like this being an African-American writer and reader myself. Hope you all like it! Plus, this is triggering some dark memories of when I used to get my hair cut so enjoy my pain lol.

⚣💈 Summary → You're the newly adopted Wayne kid after your parents are caught in the crossfire of one of Batman's battles. Bruce, trying to prove himself a better father, attempts to do your hair but since he knows nothing about African-American haircare, you're in for a painful ride. Your poor hairline...

⚣💈 Words → 2.0k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please!💛

⚣ ENJOY 💈

“Okay, so how do I do this?” Your dear old dad asks.

“I don’t know! I’m just a kid! Aren’t you supposed to be the parent and know these things?” You asked with your hands waving around animatedly as you sat on a stool chair taken from the dining room into one of the many bathrooms.

Bruce gave you his signature frown while looking at the assortment of combs and hair products on the sink.

After your parents had gotten caught in the crossfire between Batman and one of his notable nemeses, the billionaire decided to take you in, making you an official Wayne kid.

For a 7-year-old, you were very knowledgeable. Something your new legal guardian immediately noticed after adopting you, and because of your age, you were now officially the youngest kid Bruce had taken in.

You were also the only other African-American kid Bruce decided to take in outside of Duke. And that didn’t even really technically count since Duke was already a teenager by the time Bruce officially adopted him.

So, your adopted father was at a loss for words while staring in the mirror at your hair while you played games on his phone. Your hair had grown to a considerable length, and you’d been asking your adoptive father for a while now to help you get this new style that was becoming more popular called ‘twists.’ Well, new to you since you hadn’t seen it before.

‘I thought that was a dance move.’ Bruce thought to himself.

When you showed him the video you saw, the Dark Knight persona immediately decided he was taking you to a professional barber who knew more about your hair texture and maintenance to give you what you needed.

At least until Jason ran his big mouth.

“Wow, old man. Can’t even take care of your own kid’s hair. Shameful.”

He was really just patronizing the older man, always enjoying the moments when he got a reaction from him now and then. But, he’d begun to regret that decision when he along with your other siblings saw Bruce carrying an armful of hair products and tools to the upstairs bathroom while holding your hand in his other hand leading you upstairs.

It was quite comical seeing the frightened look you threw at your second oldest brother as he along with your other siblings watched Bruce’s towering frame lead your tinier one up the grand staircase with you looking like you were heading for your doom.

In hindsight, you might have been, and Jason could only smile sheepishly at you as Bruce led you toward the bathroom.

Now, they all stood outside the bathroom watching their shared father struggle as he read over the ingredients from the different hair products.

“How bad do you think this is gonna go?” Steph asked.

“Oh, I’m betting on a full shit show within the first 10 minutes,” Dick said while munching on some popcorn.

“10? You’re too graceful dickhead. I’m betting 3 and half minutes tops.” Jason threw out while reaching to grab some popcorn before having his hand slapped by the acrobat. “Hey!” He yelled in offense before getting into a sorta-ish fight with Dick, trying to tug the bag of popcorn from him.

“Cut it out, you two! You act like wild children throwing tantrums.” Damian snapped at the two vigilantes.

“Says the actual child who throws ninja stars and daggers during a tantrum when daddy grounds him from patrol,” The Red Hood persona remarked, stuffing his mouth with a handful of buttery popcorn after nabbing the bag from his older brother who was now mean-muggin' the shit of him.

Damian growled at Jason, rolling up his sleeves before Steph grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back to his place. The second Robin laughed while taunting the young assassin, throwing kernels at his face.

While that was going on, you sat and watched Bruce read label after label on the various hair-care product bottles.

“Uh, Bruce, are you sure we can’t just go to a barber?” You asked, a fearful tone evident in your voice which did not do well for Bruce’s confidence. Even as a 7-year-old, you could tell when a situation was about to go left without the side comments from your adoptive siblings.

“No, no, Y/N! I got this. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t take care of my own child’s hair.” Bruce said while reading the red bottle. He was holding his phone in the other hand, reading a review online under his breath, “...mixed with a high amount of sulfates to help cleanse build-up of oils and other products in the hair.”

“You realize Jason was joking, right? Right?! Jason, tell him you were joking!” You frantically shouted, turning in your seat towards the vigilante who held a sheepish smile while his mouth was full of popcorn.

“I was joking.” He tried to say, words muffled by his chewing.

“Y/N, calm down. If Bruce can handle taking down crazy madmen and women at night as Batman, how hard could it be to do a simple hairstyle?” Tim spoke trying to reassure you.

And it almost worked…until you felt Bruce try to brush your hair with what you were sure was Stephanie’s hair brush.

“Is that my hairbrush?” Steph asked.

“It says I’m supposed to pick his hair out before washing? Is brushing not the same as picking?” Bruce asked, looking at his kids with the most confused face.

“I’ll pray for you at your funeral, Y/N.”

The desperate and confused face on Bruce's face was actually so adorable that if you weren’t terrified for your scalp (and life) at that moment, you would’ve hugged him just to help him feel better.

Cass had walked into the bathroom before grabbing a larger comb off the counter and switching it with the hairbrush in Bruce’s hands before returning the purple hair tool to its rightful owner.

“Thanks, Cass,” Steph said.

‘You’re welcome.’ She signed back.

“Alright, here we go,” Bruce uttered before grabbing your shoulder and placing the comb at the base of your scalp, pulling back to ‘pick’ through your hair.

“Ow, OW, OOOWWWWWW!” You shouted in pain while holding on to the counter for dear life, feeling like your face would tear in half.

“Bruce, you’re going to rip his head off!” Dick yelled, coming to your rescue, “You gotta comb from the sides.”

He pulled the comb to the side of your hair causing your head to yank in that direction.

“OW!”

“Whoops, okay, maybe that was wrong,” Dick said, smiling in apology at you.

“Alright, you idiots, get out of the way. Looks like another issue I have to take care of for you.” Jason stated, placing the popcorn down before cracking his knuckles which really did not help ease the nerves and fear you were feeling in your stomach. He pulled up his sleeves and licked the butter off his fingers, which, gross by the way, “You gotta pull with some strength.”

“OOOWWW!” You yelled, glaring hard at your older brother who once again just smiled sheepishly at you.

“You guys are hopeless,” Tim sighed, grabbing the comb only to make it worse by tangling more into your hair.

“TIM!” You screamed.

“Maybe I’m hopeless too.” He said, a confused expression taking over his face as he tried to figure out how to solve this.

“Okay, simpletons. Move over.” Damian said.

Your eyes went wide at that.

“UH UH, back away gremlin!” You grabbed the nearest thing that could be considered a weapon which turned out to be another hairbrush. Not even caring, you decided you would make it work.

Damian was not allowed anywhere near your hair.

“What the- I’m older than you!”

“So?!”

“Fair point, brother.”

Stephanie tried to help but only managed to get the comb fully lost in your hair. You could feel yourself getting dizzy and a headache coming on as your head had been yanked back and forth in different directions.

As your family was busy yelling back and forth at each other while playing tug-of-war with your scalp, none of them even noticed when Duke came up the stairs, confused by all the chaos.

“What’s going on?” The Signal persona asked Cassandra.

‘They’re trying to do Y/N’s hair,” She signed.

Duke’s eyes went wide as he heard your cries of pain before rushing into the bathroom.

The tears forming in your eyes were clear as day as your tiny hands gripped the counter with everything you had, feeling like if you’d let go at any moment, you’d be yanked out of the chair and swung back and forth like a yo-yo. Duke also saw Damian creeping through the mess to grab at the tangled comb in your hair, giving it a yank causing another cry of pain from you making him smirk in cruel enjoyment.

“Hey!” Duke screamed at the top of his lungs, effectively shutting everyone up and turning their attention toward him. “Everyone out!” He pointed his thumb behind him. They all quickly shuffled out of the bathroom, mumbling to themselves while Bruce remained behind, looking quite beside himself.

Duke picked up the bottle the older man was holding in his hand before turning it over, seeing the ingredients and what he had pulled up on his phone.

“Really, Bruce? Sulfate?” Duke said.

The billionaire only groaned before his forehead fell into this palm, “I should’ve just taken him to a barber.” He grumbled,

Duke looked towards you, seeing how tense you were and the fresh tears in your eyes from the amount of pain your scalp was in.

“Don’t worry, little bud, I got ya.”

~~~

A few hours later, everyone was waiting in the kitchen while Alfred served refreshments before hearing your happy feet skipping down the hallway, Duke right on your trail. Your hair was done, washed and conditioned, and twisted right into the style you wanted.

“Ta-da!” You yelled upon entering the kitchen, opening your arms as if you were giving a grand finale. A mix of delightful reactions and cheers filled the room from your family members, everyone smiling at how excited you looked. Even JDamian, despite how small it was.

“Wow! Look at you, Y/N,” Dick said, biting into an apple.

“Hold still! I’ve got to get pictures for my feed.” Steph said while coming to take some pics of you.

“You look quite charming if I do say so myself, Master Y/N,” Alfred said, before handing you a cookie.

“Thanks, Alfred!” You said, happily munching on the treat, before climbing into one of the stools without any assistance. Okay, you had a little help from Jason to make sure you didn’t slip, but since he didn’t mention it, neither would you.

Bruce walked up to Duke, who was still standing by the entrance to the kitchen leaning against the wall.

“Thank you, Duke.” He said, patting his shoulder, which was weird for Bruce, but he was learning how to show more affection to his kids now that he had you so everyone was slowly getting used to it.

They were also weirded out by it too.

“No problem. Just glad I got here when I did. By the way, why didn’t you just take him to a barber?” He asked.

Bruce looked reluctant to say, so the brown-skinned boy didn’t push it, “Don’t worry. I won’t ask. But, if you want me to teach you how to take care of it, just ask. I learned from watching my parents do my hair growing up. Then, when I kind of had to start taking care of myself in the foster system, I picked up some different tricks here and there.” He explained, answering Bruce’s questions before he could even ask.

“Thank you,” The older man said before their heads turned at the sound of you screaming.

They saw Damian next to you with another smirk as you rubbed the back of your still tender head with an irritated grimace at the youngest Robin.

“Damian!” Bruce shouted.

“What? That’s what he gets for calling me a gremlin.” Damian said before he felt a harsh tug on his own hair, looking back to see you with your own mischievous smile.

“Ow!”

“Now, we’re even, gremlin.”

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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skellymom · 2 months

Text

"HUNT AND PECK"

Hunter x Reader Supporting Character Smutty One Shot

(With comedy mixed in)

(Credit for Pinterest photo: mishusheadache)

FIRST IN THE SERIES: "TALES FROM THE EDIBLE"

(Divider credit: @cafekitsune and @4gelic-wh1spers)

BACKGROUND: Hunter converses with his anatomy. We get to be in BOTH heads at once!

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

WARNING: Swearing, references to sexual organs, sexual sounds, reference to the sexual act, mentions of body fluids, angst, sexual pining, dirty humor, wing men, unspoken consent to the sexual act.

Inspired by a post about Hunter typing "Hunt and Peck" style by" @im-no-jedi

Link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743260093984997376/this-also-speaks-to-how-none-of-the-batch-have

AND

This silly movie scene from the 1980's flick "Real Genius"

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The Batch finished up their latest mission, picking up a new passenger along the way. Y/N was a Force sensitive hitching a ride to a planet they would be passing on the way to Kamino. She would only be with them a few standard days on the Marauder, and the crew made sure she had a comfortable stay.

Within two days Hunter was smitten. He usually kept himself from developing any attachments to nat borns. But...well, this one was different...and difficult to ignore. Of course, he still engaged with her politely. Being a Sergeant and host on this transport, he kept some distance.

Y/N was attractive. Not conventionally, as he wouldn’t consider himself attracted to just ANY pretty face. But she had that...thing. An essence? Something that just took him out at the knees. It was elusive...

...and she smelled SO GOOD. Hell, even when she was sweaty, dirty, just woke up in the morning...heady scent of her body odor with the slightest tang of her sex...

Hunter shifted in the pilot’s seat. His armor codpiece felt tight. Dammit, he NEEDED to stop getting distracted. He was supposed to be sitting watch on the ship.

Technically Echo was to stand this shift. However, he was under the weather and now lying down like the rest of his brothers.

Hunter could hear Crosshair breathing, Echo’s ticking mechanical heart, and smell Tech’s drool...as he slept face down with mouth open. Wreckers' snores were like a power tool, until his sleep apnea kicked in. Hunter would count the seconds unconsciously holding his own breath too...until Wrecker finally inhaled.

Hunter inhaled deeply just thinking about it...

...until Y/N sighed in her sleep. The sound brought his attention back to the heat and tightness in his groin.

Cut it out Peck! Hunter internally warned his cock.

Yes, Hunter nicknamed his pecker. And he admitted it to NO ONE! Although, he came close one time when Echo confidentially revealed to Hunter that he named his scomp.

Oh Broody...you’re such a tight ass PRUDE!

Hunter shot up from the chair looking around the cockpit. He SWORE he heard a whisper so close...unsure if it was outside or INSIDE HIS HEAD!!!

KRIFF, I’m hearing things. Although, it was his THIRD consecutive day of chronic insomnia. Was he hallucinating?

Listening again, Hunter could perceive everyone was asleep and accounted for. He sat back down.

Broody...it’s me! Peck!!! In a strangely soft but high-pitched voice.

Then the voice started clucking.

Hunter spun around in the chair. He felt for CERTAIN there were NO CHICKENS on the Marauder. Shit...he REALLY needed to start taking that nasty tasting sleep medication Tech concocted.

Finally lost my mind...was bound to eventually happen. Lack of sleep, having to look after his bonehead brothers, save Echo, and... sitting here alone in the starlit darkness. Running his hand down his face and resigned himself to having an internal discussion with his own cock. What would it hurt? Besides everyone was asleep. Let’s just go with it and see...

Peck? Hunter called out with his mind.

Yeah Broody?

I’m NOT a prude. Just polite.

Y/N is a grown ass woman, Hunter. You CAN talk to her.

What would I say?

She needs MORE than those furtive glances and puppy dog eyes. Show her the WOLF you are, Hunter.

She’s our guest NOT a sex object!

Oh...so she’s NEVER had an impure thought about YOU?

A very feminine moan and a sigh wafted from the pallet Y/N was sleeping on the bunk room floor. She must have been having a hell of a dream...as Hunter could smell her wet arousal.

Hunter’s cock was now becoming painful with an intense pressure against his codpiece.

Clucking...C’mon ole boy. Would you deny yourself the opportunity of a grown woman’s consent?

You DON’T KNOW if she even thinks about me THAT WAY!

Oh YES I DO!

Hunter ripped the codpiece off and threw it behind him. His girthy engorged cock staining through his blacks...and leaving a wet spot.

Ohh...THANK FORCE you let me out! Suffocating in there!!! Clucking...

SHUT UP! Hunter pushed his pecker down between his legs, then crossed them tightly.

Mmhmm, hmm, mhm mmm... Muffled speech. Clucking intensified.

DANK FERRICK! She did look at him a lot and smiled. He could sense her body reacting to him MUCH differently than his brothers. The thrumming of her presence on his senses. Something he guessed was her Force sensitivity. It would tickle his nerve endings and make him shiver...in a VERY good way. Was Y/N flirting with the Force? Hunter wasn’t exactly sure.

But he didn’t want to take advantage and come off as a creep.

Hunter was so caught up in his head he barely registered a rustling...

...and swung the chair around to face...

...Y/N standing there, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, eyes hooded in desire.

Hunter sprang up out of the chair and his cock sprang up from between his legs. His expression was of dumb embarrassment due to all the blood rushing away from his brain.

Her gaze lingered on his cock. Then she stared him straight in the eyes...

...and dropped her blanket. She was buck naked.

Hunter’s jaw dropped. Y/N giggled seductively, strolled over to Hunter and pressed everything she had up against him.

He almost died of heart failure but managed to gently slide both hands up her back in a tender caress.

“Are you sure???”

“Yes, Hunter...PLEASE EAT me and FUCK me!” With that she grabbed two handfuls of his luxurious hair and devoured his mouth.

Hunter, ever the gentleman who could follow directions to the letter, obliged her.

“Permission to FINALLY stop drooling upon the sheets? Feel like I’m still on Kamino...” Tech whispered.

Quiet moaning from the cockpit area.

Echo whispered back on the comm channel “Everyone, the coast is clear. Target engaged.”

Everyone received the order via earpiece. They could now relax and drop the ruse of being asleep.

Tech sighed, “Now I can FINALLY get in the refresher. He was spending an abnormal amount of time in there lately...”

“Look who's talking, Mr Clean. Wrecker piped up. “Shiniest dick in the galaxy.”

“At least Hunter cleans the cum off the shower walls.” Tech shot Wrecker a baleful stare

“Ey, can’t help I got a big dick.” Wrecker smiled like a shithead, nodding at Tech’s crotch. “Can’t help making a BIG splash...and miss some at times.”

“ARE YOU IMPLYING MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGAN IS LESS THAN SUFFICIENT SIZE???”

Echo interrupted on comm, “Will the two of you QUIET THE FUCK DOWN! Our target will disengage...and Y/N will not acquire the asset!”

Wrecker giggled, “Oh, she’s definitely acquiring that ASS-ET!” Getting louder again.

Echo and Tech shushed him again.

Clucking continued over the coms...

Echo slid to the edge of his bunk and looked up. Crosshair lay on the top bunk, pillow pressed savagely over his face. He was shaking and clucking like a deranged farm fowl.

“If I had known you’d carry on so much, would have been the voice myself. Plus, you SERIOUSLY veered off script!” Echo sneered. Wondering if he was the only one on this ship, save their guest, to have at least one brain cell.

His musing was interrupted by much louder moans, sexual swears, and the wet slapping of flesh.

“Engage ear protection. Sound cancelling level 10. NO eavesdropping, men. We may be feral and efficient commandos, but we STILL have some semblance of morals!”

The clucking turned to coughing. “That’s what YOU think!” Crosshair finally got a hold of himself.

Echo rolled his eyes and threw the covers over his head. Thankfully N/A being Force sensitive was able to help them by dampening their ambient noise to Hunter's senses and...

...OH!

Echo’s eyes popped open realizing...she ALSO had to give CROSSHAIR access to the mental conversation in Hunter’s head to be as effective a voice as possible!

And... Crosshair laughed all through it like a fucking MANIAC!

Echo sighed. That boy ain’t right....

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

*Bone-us content: This vintage tune from my young adulthood (1990's) popped into my head...and thought I'd share. Hunter diggin' that bad girl and how she smelled.

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camsthisky · 8 months

Note

I love your writing so much, I’m so excited for this event! How about “Tell me who did this to you” from the protective/loyal prompt list, with Jason and hurt!Dick? Thank you!!

Dick has the absolute worst luck.

Sometimes he wonders if there’s just something about him that screams hit me with a dump truck full of baddies and throw me into the river to drown, because this is the third time he’s been tossed into the water this year.

The moment he’s airborne and heading towards the water, Dick is hitting the panic button in his glove and praying that he’s going to be able to survive this attempted drowning as well as he did the other two.

The tricky thing about this time, though, is that he’s been tied up, and while Nightwing has been in some sticky situations, Dick isn’t sure that he’s going to come out of this one whole and hale.

Because, come on. Chains? Really? The baddies this time had slapped manacles on him and wrapped him in chains and tossed him into the dirty river and Dick is pretty sure he’s going to die if he doesn’t find a way out of this. Quick.

At least if they tied him up with rope, he’d probably have a much better chance of surviving. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a handy dandy pair of bolt cutters in his utility belt. If it’s supposed to be there, then that was a lesson Dick had missed during vigilante lessons.

At some point, Dick blacks out, and as his vision goes dark, all he can think is, “I didn’t get to tell Damian that I love his new suit design.”

—

He wakes up choking on water. Dirty Gotham river water. Gross.

“Breathe, dammit!” someone yells at him, and miraculously, as he’s turned on his side, Dick manages to cough out the nasty water taking up the space in his lungs where the air is supposed to be. Someone thumps his back, and—

well. Eventually, he sucks in a huge heaving breath and coughs out some more. His throat is absolutely ripped to shreds and he’s still chained up.

But! He’s not underwater anymore. Which is a major plus. And Dick can mark a three-for-three on his score of surviving being thrown in the Gotham River. So take that, bad luck.

“What the hell, ‘Wing?!” that same someone—Jason, Dick realizes. No helmet, but anger and spite in spades—bites out. “Are these fucking manacles?!”

“Yeah,” Dick croaks. He’s exhausted, and Jason is leaning over him now, flipping up the lenses in Dick’s mask to check his pupils. “Not my century of style, I know. But I think I pull them off pretty well.”

“You’re a fashion disaster,” Jason mutters. “Who the heck even managed to catch you like this?”

“Oh, you know,” Dick says, very expertly avoiding answering the question directly. “I’m just a magnet for trouble. All the weirdos are out to kill me in the most ridiculous ways. Including manacled river drownings like we’re in medieval times. Gotta love Gotham.”

Jason flips Dick’s lenses back down, and gives him an unimpressed look. Even with Jason’s mask still on, Dick can see the sheer unimpressibility—is that even a word? Dick’s brain is not operating at full capacity—in Jason’s face based on his micro expressions.

“Tell me who did this to you, Dickhead,” Jason says, hauling Dick to his very uncoordinated feet and then swinging him up over his shoulders.

Someone needs to tell Jason to stop growing. Or not. Growing means Jason is alive, after all. Even if he is taller than Dick by a good few inches.

“We gotta tell Oracle that there’s some loser chaining people and throwing them in the river to drown. God, why couldn’t it be ropes? You could have cut the ropes and I wouldn’t have had to save your stupid ass.”

“My ass is not stupid,” Dick wheezes as he hangs from Jason’s shoulders. He’s pretty sure Jason’s dumb body armor is digging into his stomach. “My ass is amazing.”

Dick can practically hear the eyeroll.

“Give me their names, Nightwing.”

“You sound like B.”

“And you sound like someone who doesn’t know what’s coming to him,” Jason says. “The hell are you so reluctant for?”

“So,” Dick says, still kind of sounding like one of those stupid rubber chicken toys if it had gone through ten rounds with Titus and was on its last freaking leg. “I may or may not have figured out who chained me up and threw me in the river.”

Jason groans. “I am so angry at you right now.”

“Cool,” Dick says, and he’ll come back to Jason’s emotions later when he has the brain capacity to actually deal with them. “You got any bolt cutters?”

“Why me,” Jason complains.

“Why me?” Dick throws out, a little offended. “I’m the one who almost drowned.”

“I’m honestly having second thoughts about saving you.”

“No you’re not.”

Jason sighs, finally setting Dick—chains and all—on the ground. They’re a couple blocks away from the river now, and the streets are deserted.

“No,” Jason admits, exasperated. “I’m not. Why are you so annoying?”

“Older brother privileges,” Dick tells him, blinking rapidly to try and reduce the fuzzy feeling in his brain to maybe zero. That’d be great, yeah. Zero is a good number.

Another eye roll. Probably. Dick can feel it in the universe, even if he can’t actually see Jason doing it.

Dick must lose time at some point, because when he blinks next, he’s on the couch in Jason’s apartment, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, and miraculously unchained.

His head is a bit floaty, but he’ll take all the wins he can get tonight.

“—dumbass who got himself manacled, for fuck’s sake,” Jason is saying as he walks back in the living room. They make eye contact and Jason scoffs into the phone. “He’s awake, so come get him before I throw him back into the river and let him drown for real.”

Jason hangs up and throws his phone onto the coffee table.

“That was mean,” Dick says. “Even if B’s an ass, it’s mean to say things like that.”

“He was pissing me off,” Jason mutters, but he plops down on the floor in front of the couch. “He’s gonna be here in twenty to pick your sorry ass up for a medical check. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”

“I didn’t hit my head?” Dick asks more than says.

Jason snorts. “Yeah, sure. That explains why there’s a knot the size of a walnut on the back of your head.”

Dick blinks. “Oh.”

“That’s the only reason I’m letting you off the hook about not knowing who those guys were,” Jason tells him.

“Sure,” Dick says, eyelids feeling heavy again. “Whatever you say, Jay.”

#dick grayson #jason todd #dc #what is writing again #camryn writes #what was my flipping tag for writing #who knows #not me

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canary3d-obsessed · 1 year

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 36 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard) (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Breakfast Al Fresco

After a nightmare about falling into the burial mounds, Wei Wuxian wakes up all misty.

I guess this is supposed to be sweat, but sweat is usually not distributed in a fine spray over the surface of a person’s face like this, at least not the kind that happens while you sleep. My fellow menopausal people can attest to this.

For the first and probably last time in their lives, Wei Wuxian is up for breakfast before Lan Wangji.

This means that we, not Lan Wangji, get to watch him eat.

What? I’m a simple woman with simple interests.

(more behind the cut!)

I Sit And Watch the Children Play

While he eats his breakfast, Wei Wuxian watches a group of kids playing “Sunshot Campaign,” complete with shooting toy arrows at a kite that represents the sun. A reference, presumably, to that kite that Wang Lingjiao used as an excuse to attack Lotus Pier.

Doing things I used to do They think are new

Wei Wuxian smiles with genuine pleasure, watching these small fry play-acting the central trauma of his and his peers’ lives; only the mention of Jin Zixuan’s death brings his mood down.

He appears to carry his damage very lightly, but we know that this bright morning began with a nightmare. Perhaps every morning begins that way, but he is an expert at clearing his mind and embracing The “Now” of Wolf Thought the present moment.

Seeing kiddie Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng cheers him right back up again. Kudos to whoever was in charge of casting kids in this show. I particularly love baby Nie Mingjue’s big boss energy.

BBNMJ: Don’t make me shank you

The kiddos do a good job of embodying the conflicts of the cultivation world, roleplaying a bunch of guys trying to be in charge while smack-talking the other guys who want to be in charge.

Wei Wuxian politely asks the kids where’s Yiling Laozu? which sets up a gag in which their...nanny? shows up and hollers at them and they call her Yiling Laozu and run away. It’s funny and it does illustrate Wei Wuxian’s ongoing bad reputation.

It misses an opportunity, though, to show us a cute baby Yiling Laozu like the one we see in the Donghua.

There’s Got To Be A Morning After

Lan Wangji finally emerges from the inn, and proceeds to have more facial expressions in 60 seconds than he usually has in an hour.

Wei Wuxian has a good time teasing him about his drunkenness, while managing not to actually tell him any of the things that happened, other than their discussion about rabbits.

Note that this conversation is even more entertaining if you mentally substitute the word “ass” for the word “rabbit.”

Trust Me

Wei Wuxian mercifully changes the subject, asking Lan Wangji if he recognized the Ghost-Masked guy’s sword style. Lan Wangji doesn’t remember anything from last night except the sword fight, which is very on brand for him. He loves: sword fighting, rules, and Wei Wuxian, not in that order.

Wei Wuxian, because he has a perception bonus of +10, noticed that the dude put a spell on his sword to disguise it, meaning that he and his sword must both be well-known cultivators. He also noticed that the dude knew Lan Clan sword moves. Wei Wuxian very gently asks if the guy is someone that Lan Wangji knows.

Lan Wangji thinks for a moment and says No. Wei Wuxian accepts his answer so readily that Lan Wangji is taken aback, and thinks that WWX doesn’t believe him.

He asks if Wei Wuxian trusts/believes/believes in him, using the same word,信, that we looked at in Episode 33, and that will come up again in a couple more places.

Wei Wuxian reassures him, although his reasoning--that Hanguang-Jun has never spoken a lie--is not 100% correct. Unless we think he really was night hunting in Yiling all those years ago.

At this point the Qiankun bag of Plot Convenience tells them to mosey along to scenic Yi City.

An Inauspicious Place

When they approach their destination, we get to see the more mellow side of their camaraderie; their interaction has a lot of the flavor of their first road trip together, but with more maturity and mutual respect. As in the old days, Wei Wuxian handles the social interactions, talking to a dude by the road to get directions, while Lan Wangji hangs back.

In discussing the name of the place, Lan Wangji listens with interest while Wei Wuxian explains the layered meaning of the name, and we’re reminded that Wei Wuxian was a formidable scholar before his life went to shit.

Wei Wuxian 2.0 has some catching up to do, both in cultivation and in reading, to be a match for his 30-something boyfriend once again, but his fundamentals are strong as hell.

When they reach the gate of the city they take a moment to share some unnecessary eye contact. They probably think they’re about to have a fun low-angst adventure.

They start walking through the almost-deserted town, which has random paper funeral swag rolling around. The whole town was apparently focused on funerals and making funerary offerings, which seems like an unreliable basis for an economy.

Everything is covered in a haze that makes things difficult for sword dudes and gifmakers. They’re led a little ways into town by a mysterious running person, who is A-Qing running at breakneck speed, presumably to hide from Xue Yang while she also tries to make contact with the newcomers.

A little more running, and Wei Wuxian find a whole crowd of juniors, including all of our favorites. Bright boy Sizhui immediately figures out that if “Mo Xuanyu” is here, Lan Wanji must be here too. Jingyi immediately fangirls about Hanguang-Jun, recognizing Bichen’s sword light through the haze.

Jin Ling has never had a cool teacher in his high school, so he doesn’t get what the fuss is about.

Wei Wuxian encourages the kids to dump a heap of exposition about why they are here. They are here because the plot wants them to be here.

Then they start squabbling, because they are a bunch of teenage boys, and Lan Wangji, who is not anywhere in sight, silences them with the Lan silencing spell. Despite the fact that they’re all lost in a fog in a strange, inauspicious place. Fuck safety, amirite?

Naturally the next thing that happens is a bunch of zombies come up behind Wei Wuxian and the kids try to warn him, but without speech they’re reduced to impassioned pointing. Don’t bother drawing your swords, you useless twits.

Wei Wuxian temporarily stops the zombies with a finger snap, but then they start up again. Lan Wangji shows up and guqins them into oblivion, accidentally poisoning a random selection of juniors in the process.

The adults figure out that there’s a Yin Tiger Seal in operation, but it’s not Wei Wuxian’s. Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to brag about his superior corpses.

Lan Wangji: I know, dude; I distinctly recall one of those fuckers slicing my Wei-Ying-catching arm open

Then the ghost-mask dude shows up to fight, making the most of the low visibility and his uncanny ability to not actually be in the scene for most of the fighting.

Camera Operator: sword fighting while I hold this camera sure is difficult

Lan Wangji elegantly goes after Ghost Mask guy, heading over the rooftops to have a smoke a prolonged offscreen fight while Wei Wuxian handles things in town for the next...hour or two? However long it takes to make congee, anyway.

Wei Wuxian leads the kids to find a house with a functioning kitchen so he can cook up a remedy for the poisoning.

He tells the juniors that getting poisoned is good because it’s an experience they can talk about when they’re older. By that measure, Wei Wuxian has had the best life of anybody ever.

They find a creepy house with a creepy lady who has corpse lines on her neck, which is as good as things get here in Yi City, so Wei Wuxian talks his way in.

He’s very polite but he shows the juniors that he’s got the door blocked with his foot so that he can push his way in if necessary.

Sizhui lights a candle and all of the kids freak out when they see the full-size paper servants hanging from the rafters, even though paper servants would be a pretty normal thing to see in their lives, and they are all, like, professional ghost and monster hunters.

Wei Wuxian, looking fine as hell, steps into the creepy lady’s room to ask her permission to use her kitchen. He notices that she’s working in the dark and sees the lines on her neck, but he’s not prejudiced against corpses so he doesn’t comment. He uses his beautiful hands to thread her needle for her before going to cook fire congee for the juniors.

Soundtrack: As Tears Go By, by Marianne Faithfull or by The Rolling Stones, take your pick; There’s Got To Be a Morning After by that girl in The Poseidon Adventure.

Further Reading: The “Now” of Wolf Thought is a reference to Elfquest, which is an awesome comic book series that launched back when I was a teen. You can read all of them for free at Elfquest.com without registering or anything.

Bonus: Beautiful Hanguang-Jun

#restless rewatch the untamed #the untamed gifs #yi city #wangxian #canary3d-original #the untamed #ep36

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juneknight · 7 months

Text

My first kinktober fic that I've had to scrap, RIP! This is UNFINISHED, proceed at your own risk. It was for 'Partner Swap', but I'm going to have to...swap...that kink with something else. I'm just not feeling it. Pour one out.

“I’d like you to have sex with Steven,” says Marc one night over slices of New York style pizza. He’d been quieter than usual tonight, often glancing toward the nearest reflective surface in a way that told you he was communicating with his alters. Sometimes he would mutter something beneath his breath—but you didn’t pry. It wasn’t a conversation meant for you. You knew that if it became meant for you, Marc would let you know.

You supposed this was his way of letting you know. His words make you nearly choke on a pepperoni, reaching frantically for your glass of water to try and stop your coughing and sputtering. At last, when you wipe your mouth clean, it’s to say: “Have sex with him? Marc, baby, I’ve never even met him.”

“He’s shy.”

“So you think that sex will bring him out of his shell?”

Marc clears his throat. “He likes you—and he’s never done it before. I told him that I would ask.”

You spend the rest of the dinner thinking about it, and ruminating over the bits and pieces of knowledge you have of Marc’s shyest alter. It had taken many months for Marc to feel comfortable telling you about his identity disorder and the alters he shared a headspace with. Jake had been eager to meet (to give you the shovel talk at first, and then to tease you relentlessly like a little boy pulling your pigtails on the playground), but Steven had been much more reluctant. Marc said their last attempt at a relationship—Layla—had not ended well.

You couldn’t blame him; you’d been burned before too. Burns made for cautious touches, careful lovers. Sometimes you startled Steven by entering the flat when he was still fronting, and he usually made a quick exit to the back of Marc’s head. You tried not to take it personally, even if you were terribly eager to meet him and get to know him.

Now this…what were you to make of it?

“He likes me?” you ask, bite of pizza held in the pouch of your cheek as you talk.

Marc’s eyes cut to the toaster on the counter. An expression passes over his face, one that is best defined as brotherly: teasing and a little sly, but loving nonetheless. When he looks back to you, you can tell that he’s trying hard not to smile.

“Succinct. But yeah.”

“Succinct?”

“Steven rambles a lot. You’ll understand when you meet him.” Marc glances towards his water glass. “He’s not thrilled that I asked you.”

“Oh,” you say, shoulders deflating a bit. “Well, that’s that then, isn’t it? If he’s not interested—”

“No part of me said he wasn’t interested,” Marc interrupts firmly. “I think he hoped to get in your pants the old fashioned way—I’m not being crude, Steven, I’ve had my tongue in her ass, I think I’m fine to talk about her pants and getting you into them—”

“Marc!” you squawk.

“God, not you too—look, being direct will save all of us so much time and grief,” Marc insists. “Steven wants the experience, and you are the woman he trusts most. He would very, very happily have sex with you, if you only gave the slightest hint that you wanted to have sex with him too—”

“I do,” you admit, a little loudly. You clear your throat and lower your voice, aiming for unconcerned. “I mean: I do, sure.”

Marc looks to the toaster. He spreads his hands out as if to say, What did I tell you?

Steven fronts an hour later (forty minutes of which he spent in the shower, though judging by the voices you could hear, you were sure that most of it was spent anxiously talking to his alters. Even though the two of you were going to have sex, he still dressed himself, coming out of the bathroom with wet curls, huge brown eyes, and honest-to-God sweater paws.

“Hi, hello,” he says, waving a little. He stays far away from where you are seated on the edge of the bed. “I’m—Steven. I mean, you already know that, of course. Seems proper to introduce myself, though, yeah?”

You can’t help but smile. Marc was right; he rambles.

“Hi Steven. It’s so nice to meet you, and not just in passing for once.”

“Yeah…sorry about those times. Marc doesn’t bring home many women.”

“I would hope not,” you tease a little, mouth blooming into a grin. He’s so sweet, timid in a way that Marc never is. “Are you sure you want to go through with this Steven? Losing your virginity seems to mean a lot to you. I don’t—I don’t want to take that experience from you if you aren’t sure or aren’t ready.”

Steven rolls his eyes a little. He sits on the bed, fidgeting with his hands. “Marc’s had you a hundred times. Hardly a virgin, am I?”

You balk a little at his boldness—but he is right. With all the hesitance of someone approaching a wild animal, you come to sit down beside him on the bed, elbows on your knees, looking at your own hands to give him freedom from your gaze. “It’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because you feel like it’s different.”

“Just don’t want you to think I’m some pathetic loser,” he admits. He adds: “Pathetic, maybe, but loser is a bit harsh.”

You laugh. His mouth quirks a little. He sits up a little straighter, pleased that he could make you laugh.

“I don’t think either of those things. I’ve been excited to meet you all this time; I just didn’t want to push you if you weren’t ready. Or weren’t interested.”

“Are you?” he asks. “Interested, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Are you?”

He takes his hands away from his lap and at last you see that he’s more than half-hard, an impressive bulge against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. “Yeah, you could say that I am.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Please,” he whispers.

You turn so that you can better face him, one of your legs dangling off the bed and the other tucked beneath you. His face is warm, cleanly shaven when you cup his cheek. His lashes flutter shut right away, mouth parting in anticipation. Is this his first kiss? you wonder. Surely not.

You close your own eyes and kiss him. His mouth is warm and soft, his body positively shaking, whether with nerves or excitement you can’t tell. So much of him reminds you of Marc, but so much is different: timid but eager, clumsily following your lead instead of blazing a trail. With every movement of his tongue, he endears himself to you. And you can’t help but find yourself pressing your thighs together, turned on by his naïveté.

“Can I touch you?” he breathes against your mouth. “Want to touch you so bad. Every time I accidentally see you with Marc, your skin looks so soft—“

“Touch me,” you say, pulling back far enough that you can rip your shirt off over your head to sit in just your bra and panties. You can help but give him a sly grin. “When you accidentally see me with Marc, huh? That’s quite a coincidence—to just happen to pop in while Marc is having sex.”

Steven’s face flames. It completely gives him away. He stammers out a: it doesn’t quite work like that— but then you are taking his hands in your own and guiding them up to your satin-covered breasts. All the air seems to go out of his lungs. It seems obscene that a man this timid could have hands so broad and strong, cupping your breasts, thumbs instinctively searching for the imprints of your nipples behind the fabric.

“Take it off me, please,” you pant.

He reaches behind you and fumbles with the clasp. You wait patiently (even if inside you are dying), knowing that he will get the hang of it if given the chance. At last he does, and the bra loosens, straps slipping off your shoulders. You toss it away.

His eyes remain riveted on your breasts, taking in the pebbled nipples which only grow harder beneath his gaze, desperate for his touch.

His hand raise, then hesitate, eyes flashing up to yours to see if this is alright. When you nod emphatically, he finally cups your breasts, the rough pads of his thumbs ghosting so gently over your aching nipples. Your eyes flutter shut to focus on the sensation of his touch, letting out a pleased hum. He grows bolder with this positive reinforcement, taking your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and teasing them softly, tugging and twisting lightly. Even though your eyes are closed, you can sense that his own are riveted to your face, taking in your every expression.

Perhaps Steven is inexperienced, but something tells you that he is a quick learner.

You have just enough warning to feel his damp curls brush your chest before his mouth closes over one nipple, wet and burning hot as he suckles at you like a babe. Your hands fly to his head, fingers lacing in his curls.

“Oh God, Steven,” you groan. He groans back, leaving a wet kiss before switching breasts. He cups your breasts and feeds them to his hungry mouth, boldness blooming within him like a flower.

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gurugirl · 1 year

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Tales From the Modern Incubus | Part 19*

Summary: You make a pact (but convincing Adam takes a little more effort) and a ceremony is held in your honor. Harry has an admirer and you make sure to show her who he really belongs to more than once and Harry loves seeing you jealous. Harry is finally getting what he's wanted all along.

A/n: Remember, this is demon/incubus!Harry, so there may be some triggering topics. Please read all warnings in the TFMI Masterlist before continuing. Also! I describe a dress that y/n wears in a ceremony scene. It's based on the fit and style of this - but in my version, it's got black lace all over and is sheer at the top (if you're curious about the vision I had). 10.1k words

Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD SMUT (including anal), exhibitionism (a naughty public display), jealousy, use of a knife, a ritual that includes cutting skin, mentions of blood, incantations, a witch makes an appearance, "satanic" things, mentions of religion and god, mentions of drug and alcohol use

Character List

You didn’t start to feel normal again until the following day. Everything was a bit cloudy and strange for you. You had just started getting used to your new awareness and abilities and now you were suddenly feeling the loss of them. Being in a different realm for the first time was like that, you were told.

You and Harry stayed in Pandemonium to wait for more information about the details of Satan’s proposal. And then you’d go back to Earth’s realm when the time was right. Now that your real parents were being dealt with you had a lot less to worry about so you could move about more freely. Except that now you and Harry had just accepted the offer Satan had proposed. But before you could get to the nitty-gritty of that, you needed Adam to agree as well. That was part of the deal. If Adam didn’t agree the deal was off and Harry would need to find a mortal to knock up.

You and Harry sat across from Aim and Adam. Adam was still in a bit of a haze (as it was his first time in the lower realm) but he seemed to understand what was being asked of him. Sort of.

“What? You want me to join you and work for Satan. To pledge my allegiance to him? But why? I just don’t see how we can be of any use to him,” his face was set in confusion.

Aim spoke up, “It’s a bigger deal than you think, Adam. First of all, a hybrid with angelic abilities on Satan’s side? It’ll piss The Almighty off if he finds out. He’s the creator here and he thinks everyone will automatically want to claim allegiance to him. Satan likes throwing wrenches into his plan when he can and this is just a way to do that. It’s unlikely that Satan is going to have you really do any work for him,” Aim turned to look at you and then Harry, “well, he might, but mostly he just wants to piss God off with this. It's more about appearances than anything.”

Adam sat for a moment to ponder the idea. It was all still new to him. Everything was new to him, but just like you, the understanding of the truth about what he really was came quickly once his eyes were opened to it.

“But what if one day God asks me to be on his side? Will this cause some kind of struggle or will I be cast out or punished?” It was a good question. One you asked yesterday.

Harry nodded, “It won’t be like a war or anything but it could cause some issues between you and God later on. And any of God’s followers or loyal workers. But the truth is that he may never find out. At least not right away. It’s not so bad being on Satan’s side. Really. Look at me!” He put his arms out with a grin.

Adam frowned, “I don’t know. It sounds very risky. And God is the good guy, right? Like, we’re supposed to follow him? I don’t know. I was never a Christian or anything when I thought I was mortal so I may be getting it all wrong but now I’m forced to believe in all this and it sounds like I’m stepping into a trap.”

Harry and Aim both sighed and looked at one another before Aim took the floor, “God isn’t better or worse than Satan or Lucifer. Well, he might actually be worse. He’s not a nice being if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s not like good versus evil in the sense that humans talk about. It’s more like, powerful creator versus powerful outcasts.”

Adam nodded pensively, “And we’re the outcasts?”

Aim continued, “Sort of. God created the angels who defied him and even despite the fact that he made them to do certain things and act certain ways, their natural tendencies were used against them and they were cast out from heaven to figure out life on their own. The earthly realm was long a place for lost souls and angels until Satan and Lucifer joined with Eve, who we know as your mother, Lilith,” Aim kept his eyes on Adam, “and Hell was claimed as theirs and taken from God. So they ruled in Hell and from there procreated and made more angels, or demons, it’s all the same. The Bible doesn’t paint an accurate picture of reality because it was written by humans who don’t have the knowledge to speak on such things.”

Adam asked a few more questions and then stood from his chair and walked around the room in thought. You could hear Harry’s mind churning. And Adam’s. Adam was aware of why he was being asked to join the “dark side”. He knew you and Harry didn’t want to involve a human female in his duty to continue the lineage of incubus.

“Okay. I’m in. I’ll pledge my loyalty to Satan,” Adam finally relented as he shrugged his shoulders, and Harry jumped up from his seat with a grin and pointed at the handsome hybrid, “Fucking good man! This is good. You won’t regret it!”

And Harry was in such a good mood because now he could do what he’d set out to do when he originally sniffed you out. He couldn’t wait to have you pregnant with his heir. It wasn’t something he cared much about before you. He’d gotten plenty of women pregnant over the many years he’d roamed the earth, but with you it was different. You were even more powerful than he was and the bond between you two meant that this time the heir would be more powerful than ever. He didn’t know what it could bring but he envisioned that with you in the picture his status might be elevated and perhaps he’d have some notoriety gained. But mostly it was just because it was you.

Aim met with Satan separately to let him know about Adam’s decision. You, Harry, and Adam went to one of the most popular gastropubs in Pandemonium (what? Of course Hell is going to have a gastropub). You noticed how happy and upbeat Harry was. You knew why, but it was still funny to see him in such a good mood after everything. It was amazing what could happen in only a day.

“You two are going to love this place. They have amazing fish and chips. And drinks!” Harry held the door open for you and Adam as you passed through into The Abyss. The three of you sat at a table near a stage where live music was playing. It really didn’t feel like you were in Hell. This was quite posh, and it felt… normal even.

A beautiful woman approached your table and took your order for drinks. She knew Harry which shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, but when she openly flirted with him and ran her finger over his bicep right in front of you there was a heat that flitted out from your pores. You watched the woman with her pretty smile bend down and whisper into his ear, which you could actually hear thanks to your incredible senses, “Want to come over tonight? I’ve missed you, H. Seems like I haven’t seen you in so long…”

Harry quickly knocked his head toward you as he shook his head at the woman, “Oh, uh, no. Actually, this is my girlfriend, here. That’s why you haven’t seen me, been busy…” he smiled at the woman and then turned to look at you sheepishly. You weren’t returning the smile. Had Harry slept with all the kingdom of Hell? Did everyone know what he was like in the sack? He was a slut by nature but come on.

The woman stood up and appeared casual and calm, “Oh. I see. Lovely. Well,” she turned to look at Adam, “are you free tonight?” Her question was mostly in jest and as a way to save face.

Adam raised his brows and shook his head, “I’m gay, dear. Sorry.”

When she left the table with your order you kept your eyes on Harry, and you could hear him loud and clear. He looked at you with apologetic eyes and spoke quietly, “I didn’t know that she was going to serve us. But you know there’s no competition, right? Come on, little lemon love,” Harry tried to calm you by using the silly name he’d given you and you knew he was right. There wasn’t anything to worry about. But you did sense how he was pleased by being hit on right away. He liked her attention on him. Harry’s need for attention and to be favored was probably not something he’d ever get over. He was the definition of an attention whore. He loved being loved and admired.

It turned out, the drink you ordered was absolutely divine. You and Adam had never tasted such good food or drinks before. It was like everything was so perfect to your pallet that you were both moaning and gushing over how good everything tasted.

When the pretty waitress came by after you were stuffed with food and drink, she sat a dessert down on the table with a wide grin, “Your favorite, H. It was nice to see you again.”

You didn’t like the woman. You assumed once she realized he was taken she’d give up but the last little thing with the dessert for Harry had you nearly boiling. You had finally cooled off a bit when you tasted the food and she seemed to back off, but now? And you could read her mind. She wanted to try one last thing to get his attention back on her but before she could make another move you had your own idea.

You dipped your finger into the middle of the dessert as you looked at the woman, and then shoved a scoop of it into your mouth (it was heavenly), “Mmmm…” you moaned and Harry watched as you got up from your seat and grabbed the dessert, sitting in Harry’s lap. You scooped up a little more and put your finger into his mouth, “Tastes so good, doesn’t it Harry?”

Harry knew what you were doing, and he couldn’t say he didn’t like how jealous you’d gotten. He nodded and moaned around your finger. You plucked your finger out of his mouth, sat the dessert plate back onto the table, and then leaned in to kiss him. You put your fingers into his hair and his hands immediately found your bottom and you smiled at that.

To your surprise, the woman stood and watched as you kissed Harry (for only a handful of seconds) in his lap. When you broke from the kiss you spoke, loudly enough for her to hear, “Let’s go back to our room. Want to show you what tastes even better than this.”

Of course, you were just putting on a show and you hadn’t actually intended on getting Harry back to Satan’s palace where you were staying in one of the dozens of rooms. But Harry wasn’t going to pass up your offer, even if it was fake.

He scooted you off his lap and waved at Adam, “Uh… we’re going now,” he spoke and pulled you out of the pub a lot faster than you anticipated. Leaving the dessert behind on the table with Adam.

You and Harry were able to move through the distance to the palace very quickly. He held onto you and navigated you through the space and into the palace and to your room. You were still getting used to the way you could practically glide through space and get places much faster. It was certainly a very useful ability.

It was also of note that the atmosphere in Hell was similar to that of Earth but quite different at the same time. You wouldn’t say it was hotter. Dryer for sure. The sky was gray at all times, like a bright gray with a backlight but no direct source of illumination could be seen. There didn’t seem to be a setting or rising sun, but night never came either. There were stars and moons and planets visible in the sky. No clouds. You weren’t sure if it did get cloudy, or if there were seasons, or storms, or anything that you’d experienced on Earth. You just knew that by looking at the sky you were in a different place. Oxygen seemed abundant like on Earth, but the light and the lack of humidity were quite different.

When you arrived at your room you could smell his need. You two didn’t have sex the night before because you were feeling strange and the loss of your senses threw you for a loop. But now, Harry was ready and he knew you were back to feeling your abilities again.

“Harry, you know I was just trying to get her to stop hitting on you…” your words were cut off when Harry cupped your face in his hands and smashed his lips over yours. You slowly brought your hands up around his back and allowed him to take over your senses. Harry was like walking sex. Even last night, when you weren’t feeling so well, you did consider having sex with him anyway, but Harry insisted that you sleep so you could feel back to yourself. Back to normal. And if you ever needed proof that Harry loved you, well that was it. An incubus saying no to sex? Unheard of. But now you were feeling good and normal again. Which meant that you were feeling that bubbling desire for him.

And he was so ready to have at you again. He wanted to wait until there was word from Satan that the deal was accepted and then he’d get you pregnant. He would make it special and last all night. This was something more immediate. A need to show you his appreciation. To show you there wasn’t anyone else on his mind. As much as he enjoyed the way people fawned over him, he only had eyes for you.

“Are you gonna give me your babies, Harry?” You moaned as you pulled your shirt off over your head and Harry removed his shirt as he watched you expose yourself to him.

He shook his head when he grasped the back of your neck and pulled you close to him, “Not tonight. Want it to be so special. So perfect. Gonna take my time with you when I release my seed into you and make you a mom. Right now, I just need to feel you. Need you so bad…” he slowly lowered his mouth to yours.

Your lips slotted into his when he lifted you up and carried you to the large bed that was in the middle of the room.

Satan’s palace was ridiculous. The style was gothic and dark and sultry. It was kind of exactly like you’d imagine Satan’s palace to look like. All the clichéd dark onyx and red velvets, shiny black walnut wood details, dark marble and stone, granite banisters with intricate detailed carvings and figures of dark winged creatures and tortured souls in paintings on walls, carved in stone, designed into the floor… The room you were in had wide plank dark wood floors, almost black, with a thick blood red wool rug that covered most of the space. The bed was massive with soft dark red blankets, black pillow accents, a dark stone carved headboard that had gold carvings and designs all over, and what looked like horns at either side. The fireplace was directly across from the room with dark marble and gold veining that went all the way to the ceiling. The chandelier over the bed was black and gold. Thick dark red velvet curtains with black and gold designs covered the windows. It was beautiful, actually.

Harry had your pants off and dragged his own down his legs, revealing that lovely cock you had become obsessed with.

“Need to taste…” he spoke in a dark whisper as he lowered his mouth to your center. His eyes were black and his fingers pinched into your skin as he held you down and his tongue got to work on you.

Harry had you spread out on the bed as he brought you to your first orgasm with his mouth. But you missed having something inside of you. That was your favorite, getting filled to the brim with him.

“Oh?” Harry looked down at you from his spot over you when he heard your thoughts, “You’re desperate for my prick, then? Need to be stuffed with me, Y/n?” Harry’s dark smile was playful and you laughed as you pushed him.

“I need to be stuffed and fucked, Harry. All my holes need you…” you sat up and pushed him down, flat to his back as you crawled over him.

You took him down your throat and when you heard him whimpering you smiled over his cock and hummed with your dark eyes on his. You loved making him a bumbling mess.

“Fuck… I love you so much. Oh shit…” Harry gasped as he watched you suck and stroke him.

You knew he loved you. You knew he was yours. You pulled off his tip and continued using your hands over him, “No one can do it like this, Harry. Only me…” you spoke as you kissed his tip and went back down over him, making sure to keep your eyes on his.

He parted his pink lips and hissed when you reached down to grasp his balls. You sucked him slowly and rolled his sack in your hand and then lowered down until your nose was stuffed into the thatch of hair at his base. Harry gurgled a moan with a smile and put his hands into your hair, holding you in place so he could feel the back of your throat.

You always imagined that giving head was going to be a lot of hard work. You’d heard about it; you’d seen the videos of women gagging and coughing and choking. But you had no problem at all taking Harry’s large incubus cock down your throat. It’s like you were made for it. But then again, you were half demon, half angel, so your abilities extended beyond what a human could offer.

Harry began shaking and whining and panting, just like you wanted. You sort of wish that cute waitress could see how you did it. Could see the way you made Harry come so fast and so hard. If she could only see how much he loved your mouth then maybe she’d realize she had no chance.

Harry looked down at you and pulled your hair to lift you a bit, “Fuck… you want me to get her in here to watch?” He was dead serious. He’d heard your thoughts and he liked where your mind was going.

You squinted at him and shook your head, “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Like it when people watch you and get turned on by you? You’re my little whore, Harry,” you leaned down and nipped at his thigh and looked up at him then bit down harder. Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back. You removed your hands from his cock and his scrotum and began licking all around his groin and the inner part of his thighs. Harry’s cock was twitching and throbbing. Pre-come was beading from his slit and dripping down over his pretty frenulum.

You pushed his legs back and brushed your lips on his bottom near his balls and then did it on the other side before biting down and he began babbling your name and expletives in between.

When you lifted your face from between his legs you slowly, gently, softly grazed your finger up from his perineum, over his scrotum, up the underside of his long shaft, and to his tip and he came with a loud moan. You smiled as you watched come shoot from his slit at the tip and coat his shaft and his torso up to his butterfly tattoo. He was gasping and rutting his hips up into nothing as you just sat back and watched, “See? My little whore. I can make you come by just touching you with one finger. Is that what you wanted her to see? How good I do it and how little effort I need to put in to make you a mess with come all over yourself.”

Harry caught his breath and looked down at you with a grin, “Sure. I think it would be hot actually. She’d probably love to see me all messy and coming from just a touch. Then she’d know you’re the only one for me.”

You laughed. He had no shame whatsoever.

Harry sat up and grabbed you by the front of your throat and licked into your mouth. You were pulled up to your knees as Harry moved you to straddle him, “Now we’ve got two more holes to take care of. Pussy first,” he whispered as he centered his tip to your entrance.

When he pulled you down over him it was a snapping pinch that made you gasp with wide eyes and Harry grinned, “Hold on to me my love.”

You grasped onto Harry’s shoulders and he began to fuck into you hard. His balls slapped into your bottom and your hole was being ravaged by his large dick. You had no words at the moment as your body and soul parted. Harry gave you no mercy as he pounded away into you. His strength was astounding. There was no way any mortal could fuck you from the bottom like this. Your sight became hazy and your ears began to buzz and ring. The pain from the way he was impaling you spurred you on and you were sure you were shouting and yelping and making a ruckus but your senses were focused on the way your orgasm was melting down over you, from the top of your head and over your shoulders, down your spine and bursting out over Harry.

You heard him laugh when you wet him and the bed below. He pulled out and watched your pussy spray little gushes over his thighs as you shivered and reached down to rub your clit because you needed the friction. Harry pushed you down and put his mouth over your cunt and drank you up. Your orgasm liquified your brain and your body was only responding to how Harry played it. He was a master at making you come and squirt and quiver.

But then before you were totally aware, he pulled you back into his lap and plunged into your bottom, your sphincter hole stretching around his big cock and you were a goner. You both were. Harry loved fucking your ass and anal was a new favorite thing (well, technically everything was new to you). It made you feel even closer to him somehow. Your souls had already merged but anal was like the binding around it all. Which absolutely sounds insane to you when you’re not getting fucked in the ass, but every time he entered you from behind the way it felt was indescribable.

“Let’s get Miguel in here and the girl so they can both watch… see how we make each other come,” Harry's cock was disappearing into your hole and you were grunting at each thrust as you nodded.

“Yeah. Show them both how it’s done. No one does it like you, Harry…” you felt your insides quivering when you looked into Harry’s eyes.

You both watched one another as you fucked. Sweat formed under your thighs that were pressed over the top of Harry’s. You leaned in and bit his lip and then backed away only to have him smack your bottom hard and you gasped with a smile.

“That’s right, baby… Miguel wouldn’t know what to do with his virgin ass watching you get fucked by a demon in the ass.”

You were both so close, you were moaning together and sliding him in and out, your wet pussy was throbbing around nothing as your other hole was getting stuffed when you heard a knock at the door and turned to watch it swing open at that moment.

It was Adam and Aim. They both casually walked in and closed the door behind them and you looked at Harry with your mouth still dropped open and heavy breaths falling from your mouth.

“Kind of in the middle of something here, guys…” Harry groaned but kept himself buried inside of you, his knees bent slightly.

Adam crossed his arms over his chest and laughed, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Aim scrunched his brows together and looked at Adam and then toward you and Harry, “We have important news. Could you cover yourselves, please?” Aim turned away. But Adam kept his eyes on you and Harry.

Harry held you to his body and pulled the blanket over your lower half to hide from Aim at his request. Not that Harry cared much if anyone saw. And you were sort of okay with it yourself. After having Adam watch you and Harry and knowing people could hear you, well, it was a turn-on. Who were you even?

Aim walked toward the fireplace and pulled at his collar in discomfort, “Satan has agreed to have you on his side now that Adam is in. He’ll expect you to report to him when he needs. Harry, your duties don’t change and he said he wants to hear back next week with your progress update, which I think we can see is going well…” Aim cleared his throat and looked at Adam, “Adam, I have some associates I’d like you to meet, and when you two are done here,” Aim gestured at you and Harry but did not turn to look, “Y/n, please come find me so we can get some paperwork done and go over ground rules, which I’ve already completed with Adam.”

You shifted and Harry squeezed your bottom under the covers, “Yeah… Okay. Uh… I’ll find you,” you responded, still breathless.

“Okay. Good. I’ll see you later,” Aim hurried toward the door and Adam followed behind, not as in a rush as Aim was. Before Adam closed the door he looked back in and winked at you and Harry.

Harry laughed and jerked his hips upward, the tip of cock reaching deeper yet and you moaned, “Fuck me, Harry.” And so he did.

You and Harry lay on the bed for a bit in recovery from the activity. You felt him get up and watched as he moved off the bed and opened the door to the massive walk-in closet before coming back onto the bed with you. He held up a joint and lighter and put his back against the pillows and lighted it up, inhaling a big breath of the smoke into his lungs.

You sat up and watched him, “Can I try?”

Harry nodded and handed you the rolled-up, lit joint. You repeated what you saw Harry do, placing the end between your lips and you inhaled. You quickly pulled the joint out and coughed and hacked, bending forward as you held the joint up, the stinky smell permeating around you. Harry took it from your fingers and you continued coughing a bit.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Harry chuckled as he rubbed your back.

You looked at him and nodded, “Need water.”

And that was your first experience trying weed. The water cooled your throat and a few minutes later you felt the tiny buzz and relaxation weed was supposed to give.

You and Harry lay naked on the bed and you tried a few more puffs until you got used to the way it felt in your throat, not inhaling so aggressively the next few times.

You laughed, “I’m such a sinful creature now. Thanks to you.”

Harry nudged you and smiled, “Nah. No such thing. You’re just a being doing exactly what you are meant to do. Everything you do is part of your path. God made the cannabis plant. Humans deemed it sinful. Humans say a lot of shit is sinful when it’s not really.”

You had come to this realization slowly. It was still hard to wrap your mind around all that you’d learned, but you were starting to embrace it all.

When you got dressed you and Harry found Aim and you signed your contract after he explained your new role. And there was an additional document as well. One that would bind you and your child (to-be) to Satan and his work. It hadn’t been part of the original verbal agreement so you hesitated to sign it.

“This wasn’t part of the request. Why am I signing this now?” You pointed at the document and looked toward Harry and then Aim.

Aim sighed, “I know, but this was sort of just understood as part of the agreement. Since you’ll be giving birth to Harry’s heir, this is protocol. All of his heirs are promised to Satan. It’s part of the deal Harry was born into. So, if you don’t agree then the whole thing is off.”

So you signed it. What else were you going to do? It made sense that this was already part of the plan, grandfathered in so-to-speak, based on Harry’s status. But you were caught off guard a little. Though, you couldn’t see the harm.

The contracts were placed in a book and locked away and then there were just a couple more things Aim needed before you were free to go.

Along with signing your life over to Satan, you had agreed to give him a sample of your blood, and a lock of your hair, and you’d receive his mark. The mark of the beast. The mark is actually just a small chip that was to be implanted in your wrist for the purpose of buying things and making any kind of financial transaction. And it was also a symbol of your loyalty to the Dark Lord. But it wasn’t like it was some evil thing that you were always warned about. Even God did this with his loyal followers only it’s called the Seal of God and it does the exact same thing the Mark of the Beast does. It gives the ability for angels and spirits to make financial transactions in Heaven and is a symbol of their devotion to The Almighty.

An old woman, a witch you learned, came into the room and drew your blood and cut a chunk of your hair out. She sealed the vial of blood and your hair into a small wooden box with carvings and your name engraved on a gold plate at the top. She never spoke a word to you or Harry.

She pointed to your wrist with a knife she held in her hand and a small metal object in her other. You flipped your wrist upward and she held onto your forearm, speaking some kind of incantation over the knife, which she had pressed the flat part of the blade over her heart. She snapped her fingers and pointed the tip of the knife to the flesh on the underside of your wrist before pushing the blade into your skin. It was only a small slice but you hadn’t expected it.

You winced as she removed the blade and held the knife up toward your face and she stuck out her tongue. You stuck your tongue out, following what you assumed was her direction and she placed the blade over your tongue and you tasted your blood. She whispered words you were unable to understand and you felt Harry’s hand holding your free one.

She sat the knife down and the small metal object she held was suddenly shining and bright as if it were alive. She inserted it under your skin where she’d cut you open.

Pressing your wound down with her thumb and continued her strange whispers and closed her eyes, tilting her head back to face up toward the ceiling. Her whispers turned into a peculiar chant, maybe not even words.

You felt your wrist burn and the heat traveled up your arm and it drew tears from your eyes. The burn turned into an ache, and then a sharp pain traveled over your spine and you gasped as you tried to hold it together. Harry squeezed your hand and you heard him tell you it was going to be okay and you knew it would but it hurt.

When the witch released your arm the pain was gone and the small slice in your skin healed completely. You flipped your arm over and inspected your skin but it looked as if nothing had happened.

The old woman stood up and took the knife and box with her as she left the room in silence.

You were stunned. You hadn’t expected this. You looked at Harry and then the door opened up. Aim entered with a smile, “You’re one of us now. Congratulations, Y/n.”

It felt surreal. You were now Satan’s follower. This was not something you ever imagined in your wildest dreams. You lifted your wrist up again at to look at and touch the skin but it was like there was nothing.

Adam and Sam followed in the door behind Aim. Adam looked a little out of sorts but he had a smile on his face. You assumed he’d gone through the same ritual you’d just experienced.

“Tonight, we will party and celebrate our new members,” Aim said with a laugh, “This won’t be like any party you’ve ever gone to so prepare yourself and keep an open mind.”

Harry tried to prep you for what was to come. You had a dress waiting for you in the room. Black silk and lace. Black stilettos and gold jewelry with rubies rounded out the outfit.

The dress had long sleeves and the front neckline plunged so far down it almost met your belly button. There were two high slits at the front skirt of the dress so that when you stepped forward, it showed your leg up to your hip. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever put on. The lace along the front was sheer and there was no wearing a bra underneath. Your breasts were visible under the material though the material’s pattern covered very specific areas around your nipple, it was still noticeable. The lace continued down through the skirt of the dress but the bottom had silk under so you were at least partially covered.

Harry kept begging you for another round before you could leave the room but you were full of nerves and knowing the little you did about what was to come, there was no way you’d be wanting to have a quickie until everything was over.

The party was going to be an orientation of sorts. A celebration for the newcomers but since you and Adam were hybrids it was a big deal. There were other hybrids in the kingdom, but you and Adam were heirs of high beings. Your pedigree proceeded you.

And you learned that some of the guests might not be so fond of you. Most would welcome you and Adam but some were going to be more difficult to convince. The fact was that with Lilith and Asmodeus in trouble, it caused a bit of a stir. Many were fond of them but now you and Adam had come into the picture and it left a big question mark for some. There were rumors flying about what had really happened. A lot of theories were being thrown around, which was getting mixed with opinions, and biases. And some of the beings weren’t so sure you and Adam were actually innocent in everything. Especially when they learned that you’d be carrying the heir of an incubus. It was all very sudden and unexpected.

Harry warned you to ignore the whispers and the looks. He told you there would be a few that might make comments to get under your skin. But it all made you nervous.

As you and Harry walked into the massive ballroom it felt like all eyes were on you. Your dress was outstanding and you had to admit, you looked very very good.

One of the first guests to come greet you was Danny. You remembered him from when you and Harry were in hiding and he came to you in astral form.

In-person and up close, he was far more attractive than you realized. His eyes were light blue and his smile was cute. He held an air of all-knowing but it was tampered by a boyish charm that made him seem approachable. He lifted your arm and kissed the top of your hand as he bowed down, “Greetings to the beautiful guest of honor.”

He stood back up and looked at Harry, “Hello, handsome,” his smirk was cocky and not too unlike the smirk Harry often shared.

He led you and Harry to your table at the front where Adam, Sam, Aim, and another woman sat.

“Tomorrow, I’d like to see you both,” Danny looked from you to Adam, “for some training and one-on-one question and answer. It’s important to your status and it’ll be necessary for me to gage where you are in your journey of understanding your role and what you’re capable of.”

You looked at Harry and back to Danny with confusion. You weren’t sure if this was normal or not. Harry leaned toward you and spoke quietly, “It’s just part of the education for you. It’s protocol.”

You nodded and looked back at Danny and you gasped when you saw his form change. He was Harry’s doppelganger. You looked at Harry beside you and then back to Danny who was now back in his normal form. He laughed, “Sorry about that. I tend to take on the shape and appearance of the thing you desire the most. Who was I? Harry?” He looked at Harry and winked.

“He’s fucking with you. He transforms into whatever he wants and if he sees what you want he’ll shift into because he can,” Harry looked at Danny, “Don’t mess with her tomorrow. I don’t want any funny business while she’s meant to be learning.”

Danny left as you sat down at the table. You noticed right away how close Sam and Adam were sitting to one another and the way they were flirting. The woman next to Aim was gorgeous. You’d come to realize how beautiful celestial beings were. Demons, angels, and everything in between were alluring and sensual by nature.

The woman lifted her hand toward you, “I’m Aggie It’s an honor to meet you.”

You shook her hand with a smile and blinked your eyes. She was absolutely breathtaking and you felt Harry’s elbow push gently into your side when you’d been staring a little too long.

You laughed quietly, “It’s nice to meet you, Aggie. I’m Y/n.”

Aggie’s grin widened and her eyes were sparkly and entrancing, “Oh, my lovely girl, I know who you are. Aim has told me all about you and you’re the guest of honor tonight, along with Adam here,” she turned to look over at Adam. Adam smiled at you and Harry and then turned back to Sam.

And the more beings you met the more you understood the allure of these fellow members of the kingdom you were now part of. Everyone was smart and sexy and had something about them that drew you in.

Harry brought you around and introduced you to as many people as he could before the event was to start. You were handed a drink and whisked around the room and it felt a little bit like you were in the ballroom scene from the movie The Labyrinth only your dress was far more revealing and in black. Everything was so pretty and everyone was so pretty and ethereal. You felt dizzy with nerves and excitement and wonder. But then when you noticed a few dark eyes on you, some looks that were just the opposite of appreciation you started to feel your anxious nerves rise up into the smallest ball of fear. It was only the tiniest little edge of panic but you felt it and you knew they wouldn’t hurt you, but they also certainly wouldn’t be in support of you.

When you and Harry were seated again you looked to the front of the room where dark curtains were slowly pulled back and music that had been playing as background noise began to quieten. A tall, slender man walked to the center of the circle enclosure where the curtains were pulled back and lights showed behind him, illuminating two high-back chairs with black silky cushions and golden legs and arms.

“All who are here tonight, the damned, the delighted, the dead…” his voice bellowed and the crowd laughed, “please rise.”

Everyone stood up and faced the circle enclosure and you felt your heart rate increase at the drama of it all.

“Here to begin the festivities of the night, to welcome our newest members and fellow lost souls, is our Dark Lord and savior,” the music had changed to something choppy and exciting but dark as the volume slowly began to rise, “the one who leads us into temptation,” people began to cheer and clap, “the most feared enemy of our great enemy,” the music continued to increase, making the whole scene feel like a wild spectacle, “the Prince of Lies, the Angel of Disaster, our Prince of Power and Air…” the slender man flailed his arms as Satan appeared behind him with a light show cascading over his frame, “Satan!”

The whole room went crazy. Whistles and claps and shouts and whoops across the ballroom and the music was loud and dramatic. Satan was even taller than the tall slender man who introduced him. The man was gone in a flash as Satan walked toward the front of the enclosure and waved. You realized people had their heads down, eyes averted from him, yet they were still clapping and howling his praise.

Satan basked in the adulation and the smell of smoke and sulphur filled your senses. Slowly, the room calmed and people began to take their seats when Satan lowered his hands in a signal to the guests.

Harry pulled your hand into his and brought it up to his mouth and pecked the top of your knuckles. You felt immediately calmer.

“Tonight we have two special guests who have pledged loyalty to me and to our kingdom. We will greet them both with open arms. I know you’ve all heard a little about who we are celebrating tonight, and it’s true that they are both angel and demon, heirs of high demons and high angels. Their power is useful and we are grateful for their allegiance,” he walked toward the chairs, his heavy steps heard through the silent ballroom, and turned, gesturing his arms toward you and Adam, palms facing up, “Adam, Y/n… please stand up and come forward.”

Harry gave you one last quick squeeze before you were standing up and walking in step with Adam toward the Dark Lord. The table was near the front, close to the enclosure where Satan stood so you didn’t have to endure walking in your stilettos for too long before you were ascending the marble stairs toward where you were begin ushered.

Satan gestured toward the chairs for you and Adam to sit. You had a view of everyone in the room from your seat. The whole room was staring at you and Adam. Looking at every bit of you their eyes could see, making assumptions and conclusions about you based on your appearance and what they’d heard about you. It was empowering to you. Somehow, this made you feel like part of something special. You were nervous and felt vulnerable, but it felt like a place to belong.

Once again, the presence of Satan was so interminable and heavy you could almost taste it. You could feel his power every time you were near him. It was almost suffocating. Even the way he breathed sounded powerful.

He stood in between your chair and Adam’s and placed his hot hands on your shoulder and called on the Order of the Fly. A man, not much shorter or smaller in stature than Satan stepped to the side of the encirclement and then spoke, “Princes and dignitaries of the Order please come forward.”

Six men and one woman got up from their seats and approached the circle enclosure standing next to the man who called them up. They were each dressed in long black robes and carried a book in their hands.

“Ministers of the Office, Ambassadors, and Justices approach.”

Maybe two dozen men (you couldn’t tell how many) in charcoal robes came forward. No books to be seen. They all stood on the opposite side of the encirclement so that you, Satan, and Adam were surrounded by the court.

One of the men wearing a black robe and holding a book had a round face and red hair and began to speak, “I am Berith, Great Pontiff of Hell. I will be the mouthpiece for the Order tonight.”

And so it began. Berith spoke about the great responsibility and the great reward of serving as a devoted member for the kingdom of Hell under Satan and Lucifer. Berith apologized for Lucifer’s absence and made a joke about how he was sure everyone was surprised by the news that he wouldn’t be joining that evening (apparently it was known that Lucifer didn’t attend events that weren’t in his honor nor was he ever expected to be there – so Berith’s joke was confusing to you at first but Harry filled you in later).

The princes and dignitaries of the court each read a small line from the books they held. Once the seventh had read their passage a stringed instrument began playing and Satan walked to the front of the encirclement before the crowd, “Brothers and Sisters, let’s enjoy tonight and welcome our honorific guests with open arms!”

Everyone stood from their seats and clapped as the music got louder and the Order of the Fly stepped down from the circle and went back to their seats. You saw Harry at the table near the front and he smiled at you. It felt absolutely absurd. Exciting but certainly not real. It felt like a fever dream.

The curtains closed and you, Adam and Satan were now hidden from the room, backstage.

Satan put his hands out to you and Adam, “It’s time for you to enjoy the party. You may return to your seats.”

You grabbed onto his hand and it felt like it could burn you it was so hot. Just on the edge of being too hot but not enough that you’d singe. You got to your feet and Satan led you and Adam through the back and opened a door that led to the ballroom.

You and Adam looked at one another with the same expression – almost as if to ask the other did that really just happen?

Back at your table food was served along with more drinks. There was a stringed quartet playing music while you were enjoying the dinner. You became convinced that the food in Hell was better than it was on Earth. There was something very special about every bite you took and every sip you swallowed.

Harry kept his hand at your thigh when it wasn’t draped over the back of your chair. Before the real party began, with entertainers and dancing and drugs (that’s what Harry told you at least) you lost sight of Sam and Adam. You and Harry had sort of been in your own world. Aim and Aggie were still at the table and Aim was the first to speak up about it, “So, I think our lovebirds went to go have a party of their own,” he laughed.

You weren’t too surprised. With the way they were flirting all night and they’re both not hard on the eyes either.

But then Aim pointed at Harry and narrowed his eyes, “Do not get any ideas.”

When the tables were pulled away and new seating was placed along the edges of the room, servers came around with drinks and the music played with a more upbeat tempo. The lights were dimmed, the encirclement was raised, the curtains pulled back and a full band suddenly appeared (the one that had begun playing the upbeat tempo). At the opposite side of the room there was another stage where men and women were dancing beautifully, not wearing anything other than glitter and jewelry. Within the crowd of people there were pockets of magic displays and fire tamers. The guests began dancing and Harry pulled you into the middle with Aim and Aggie in tow. The music was fast paced and you weren’t a dancer so you weren’t exactly sure how to move your body in a way that wouldn’t look ridiculous. Your revealing dress and high heels didn’t help matters either.

But it didn’t matter. Everyone was in their own world, dancing and singing and watching the random entertainers who would walk by with their magic tricks or unusual skill set that would draw attention.

And Harry was right. There were drugs. And it wasn’t just marijuana either. A woman walked by carrying a box with a strap that went around her shoulders and it reminded you of the old pictures you’d seen of the cigarette girls at parties during prohibition. Only inside of these boxes were illicit drugs. Things you’d never in your wildest imagination dream of seeing in person. And it was all free.

“Does everyone use drugs here?” You asked Harry as he had his arm around your waist and he was swaying you around with him.

Harry laughed and shook his head, “No. But many do. It’s just not illegal here or penalized like it is on Earth. Humans like to make rules to hurt the most vulnerable, like jailing people for using drugs. Even in Heaven, drugs are fine,” he swung you away from him and then back into his arms, “Angels, demons, and humans all use drugs and have been since the beginning of time. We all like to get a little fucked up now and again. But in Hell there are less consequences and less stigma. And less crime because of it.”

You still had so much to learn. You watched people snorting cocaine, smoking joints, smoking pipes, taking pills, and everything in between. It felt strange to look at the spectacle and not judge the beings for using the drugs. But things were different here.

Many people came up to you and greeted you. Some kissed you and hugged you. Others shook your hand and chatted for a bit, asked questions… it felt… welcoming. It felt like you belonged.

But Harry wasn’t wrong about there being some who wouldn’t welcome you. There would be some who would keep their distance and immediately not like you based on things they’d heard that weren’t true. You saw the glares and felt their coldness. But you tried not to let it get to you. You stuck by Harry’s side and it helped keep you grounded.

At some point, you didn’t know where Aim and Aggie had gone but you and Harry were dancing close and he was holding your hips and talking into your ear, purposely trying to get you riled up. You had your hands on his chest as you both swayed and his lips would go from small kisses on your neck to brushing the shell of your ear with whispered words.

“I can smell you. Your sweat, your pussy…” his fingers gripped your hips tight as he pressed himself to you close, “gonna lick up every drop of moisture from your skin tonight.”

You bit your lip and listened to him tell you what he was going to do to you. And it was all true. You were sweaty from all the dancing and your pussy was a little wet too. Everything in the ballroom that was happening was erotic. The naked dancers, people swaying and grinding together on the floor, and there were even people having sex on the couches and chairs along the walls of the room. Fully nude demons and angels fucking with no shame. It was kind of hot. Everyone was so sexy.

But as hot and sexy as everything was, you also needed to pee quite bad and you hated to break from the moment but you pressed at his chest and looked up at him, “I have to pee.”

The bathroom was all black and gold and sparkly. Everything about the palace you were in was fancy and breathtaking, like all the people. You relieved your bladder and washed your hands when the woman you met earlier, the server who tried to hit on Harry, walked up to the sink next to you and started to wash her hands. You looked at her through the mirror and she glanced at you but went back to washing her hands.

You found it odd that she didn’t greet you and maybe it was all the alcohol or your own dislike toward her but after you dried your hands you leaned your hip to the counter and faced her. You waited for her to finish but she didn’t turn to look at you.

When she moved to leave you stepped in front of her, blocking her path, realizing you were a few inches taller than her, thanks to your stilettos. You laughed and it came out darker than you intended, a menacing chuckle that you’d never heard come from yourself before.

She cleared her throat and tried to step around you but you pressed your back into the door and spoke, “What? No hello? No welcome to the fold? You flirt with my man right in front of me but won’t acknowledge me, the guest of honor?”

You really didn’t know what had gotten into you but you wanted her to know her place. You could read her thoughts easily and she didn’t like you. But that wasn’t your concern. You didn’t care if she liked you or not. It was her sneaky little lingering contemplation about how she was going to get Harry’s attention. And when she finally looked into your eyes you smiled at her ridiculous recent memory.

She’d tried hitting on him again just now. That’s why she was here. She followed you to the bathroom so she could have a moment alone with him and he brushed her off.

You laughed and brought your hand up to her long hair, wrapping a small curl around your pointer finger, “Maybe it’s hard for you to comprehend this but Harry is mine. He doesn’t want you, as you just learned. Again. Do you know what we did after we left the pub earlier today? When we didn’t eat the dessert you gave to Harry?”

You saw her swallow and the look in her eyes narrowed as she got angrier.

“Yeah. I bet you’d like to know. It was dirty and hot. So satisfying. Mouth watering. And soon you’ll be seeing me carrying his heir. His cock is mine. His soul is bonded to me. You’re a bore to him. And to me too quite honestly. Know your place,” you let go of her hair and brought your hand up to her temple, touching the small space between her eye and her ear, “I can hear every stupid thought in your brain your right now. You’re pathetic.”

And with that, you turned and walked out of the bathroom. Harry was waiting for you by the door. He was smirking at you, “What did you do to her?”

You smiled and brought your hands up over his chest and pressed him into the wall, “I just told her whom you belong to,” you pressed your lips to his and took his hand, pulling it down to your center where you were wet (it was easy access with your high front slit), and you lifted your leg over his hip and pressed your mouth over his.

Harry sputtered out a laugh in disbelief, “What have you done with my sweet little lemon love? Hmm?” He kissed you back and slid his fingers over your clit and smiled against your lips, “Need me, baby? Want to make her jealous? Is that why you’re all grabby with my hands?”

You smiled and shrugged, “Maybe.” And you weren’t sure why you did it, but maybe it was to make her jealous. You wanted her to see Harry touching you and not her. You knew you’d absolutely lost your mind when rolled your hips into his hand.

Harry pushed his fingers inside and kept his thumb on your button as he slowly dragged his long digits in and out. You knew that she’d see the whole show if she just stepped out of the bathroom. The slit in your dress was so high and you weren’t wearing panties and with Harry’s hand stuffed in your cunt, there was no way to hide what was happening.

You held onto his shoulders and tightened your leg over his hip as he worked your pussy. Harry leaned in to kiss your neck as his hand grew wetter and wetter.

With the moments of quiet, the girl thought the coast was clear so she stepped out of the bathroom and the first thing she saw, just as you’d hoped, was your wet pussy being fucked with Harry’s long, ringed fingers.

You and Harry both turned your heads toward her and smiled, your eyes were droopy because you were already being worked into an orgasm, but you still managed a good grin at her.

Harry pulled his fingers out of your cunt and lifted his hand, putting his middle finger into his mouth and moaning before popping it out and holding it out to the girl, “Oh, did you want a taste of the best pussy in all the realms?”

Her eyes widened and she scowled, “Doubt that…” she said under her breath and Harry scoffed before moving your leg down and he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips, and lifted your leg up over his shoulder.

He looked at the girl and shook his head, “Your existence is boring and you have no taste. Please go so I can eat,” and with that, he dug his face into your cunt and you held onto his shoulders and moaned, throwing your head back.

You were feeling the magic of the realm. The freedom, the openness, the spontaneity. It was different being in the lower realm. Not like it was on Earth. You felt the gravity, the heat, the confidence, and the boldness of the others around you. It melted away any bit of reserve you felt (well mostly), enough that you were getting eaten out in public so you could make a point to someone who thought she could have your man.

The girl was long gone by the time you orgasmed and Harry’s big cock was nearly bursting from his pants. He already had a big cock even when not hard so getting hard while he was wearing pants tended to be a bit of a problem for him.

“Let’s go back to our room. I think you’ve been present long enough,” Harry’s face was slick with you and you wiped his chin with your palm as you tried to calm your panting breaths with a nod.

You and Harry wasted no time in getting back to the big bed that sat waiting for you to use. The fire was already lit and the candles on the mantle were flickering with gentle light against the wall and ceiling.

Harry’s black eyes were devouring your body as you slid your dress off. He watched you as he slowly removed his shirt and then his pants. He was gearing up to do what he did best. What he was created to do. He was an incubus after all, with a big cock that was used to pour fertile seed meant to impregnate a womb with his heir. It wasn’t like when it was just fucking. When it was time for him to plant an heir, his ritual was sacred and he was about to share it with you. You were about to find out what it was really like to be properly defiled by an incubus.

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