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#sorry this has just been building for weeks and so much of it has just been worse than i expected and im still just so fucking tired
yuyu1024 · 21 hours
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Babe
Pairings: S.coups × y/n
Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob
~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3k
Disclaimers:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)
i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...
meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤
(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)
Me writing... is depending if im okay.
Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.
Thank you.
P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.
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Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.
He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.
"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.
"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug
"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.
He never lost his strength.
"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you
"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head
"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.
"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."
"Okay, doc. Thank you."
And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.
It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.
You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.
"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.
"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand
"Yeah... I got busy healing..."
"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"
"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple
"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder
"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."
"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"
And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.
"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."
"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."
But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.
He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.
"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.
"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.
"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.
"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.
He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.
"You promised... no one should know..."
"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.
"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder
He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.
You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.
So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.
"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"
"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."
He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.
"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"
You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.
"Y/N..."
"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."
"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."
"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."
You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.
He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.
"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.
"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.
"Okay..." you lower your gaze.
You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."
"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."
"Wait. What?" You ask
The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.
"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks
"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."
"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend
"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.
This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.
***
You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.
It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.
"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."
"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say
"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says
You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."
"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.
"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.
"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them
And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.
"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"
Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"
"No..."
"And then... stay...."
"But... my parents..."
"I already told them... they are fine with it."
"When?"
"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."
You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine
"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
You sigh. You are lost for words.
Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.
You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.
"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.
Now you are the one in the bad mood.
"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.
"Okay." You answer not looking at him.
You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...
"Babe." He calls you
You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.
"Can you please come here..." he says
You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.
"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.
"But... your leg..."
"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.
Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but
"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.
And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.
"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."
"Why...?" He pouts
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.
"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."
He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."
"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."
"You sure?"
"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."
"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.
"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say
He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.
"I know what you're doing..." he hums
"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."
His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."
"What will you do?"
"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."
"And...?" You put your forehead to his.
"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."
Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.
"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."
"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.
You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.
"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.
"Should I... let the tip touch me?"
"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.
You already removed your panties off without him noticing.
"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.
"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."
You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.
"Holy... shiiiiit!"
"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.
"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."
When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.
"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."
"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.
"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."
"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."
"You do?"
You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."
"You miss my dick?" He tease
"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.
"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."
Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.
"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."
"You like that?"
"I do."
Then you start to move yourself.
You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.
"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.
"Just let it go..."
"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.
"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."
"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Babe..."
"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."
"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you
It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.
"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.
He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.
"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."
Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."
"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."
"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."
A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."
You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."
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“I’m here now, my deer”
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
hi, this was requested so I hope you all like it! Not proof read
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
This week was a rough week for you- there have been a lot of issues and chaos going on lately due to the extermination coming up lately. Auntie Charlie and vaggie have been running around and trying to figure out a plan. Uncle husk and big brother angel/ sir pentious have been making weapons and trying to build protection to help protect the hotel and you papa has been making sure things have been going ok and has been going to a lot of meetings with the overloads so you have been alone a lot this week. Heck you even got put in time out a few times because you were upset that no one was around and that your papa was missing.  
Like he was there for a few small moments at a time, and he always put you to bed but you still missed him and wanted to spend more time with him. This wasn’t fair to you; you were just a small little baby. You shouldn't be alone; you should be in papa's arms while he sings you soft songs as he feeds you a bottle. But no, you were in your tiny room all by yourself.  
It was in the late afternoon; the sun was beaming through the windows of your nursery, and you were in your crib. You had just woken up from your nap and you were not having it right now, 
you had a dream where people were saying icky things to you and your Carrers just watched and didn't say anything. You had tears in your eyes that were soon running down your face, and you were whining as you held your blanky close to you. Before you could roll over and see you heard the door open  “Sweet pea...?” you heard a familiar voice say as they walked over to you. When you looked up you saw your papa, he smiled softly but you could tell in his eyes he looked a little worried for you. “What is wrong my dear...?” He asked as he gently picked you up from your crib, with your blanket around you. You tried to use your words however you couldn't, there had been to much going on and you couldn't bear it anymore, you just felt your tiny self-get to overwhelmed and started to cry into your papas shoulder.   
“Now now my little deer what's the matter..?” he asked as he gently rubbed his hand over your back trying to calm down “Did you have a bad dream..?” he asked as he gently swayed with you. You nodded your tiny little head softly “Aw your poor thing.. Lets get you a bottle made..” he said as he gently carried you in his arms to the kitchen as he started to make you a bottle.  
He gently fed you as he carried you back to your room and sat in the nursery. It stayed quite for awhile however once you were done he sat the bottle on a side table as gently rubbed your back as you laid on his chest “Why did you have a bad dream my little fawn?” he asked softly. Words were  hard since you were small right now, so feeling bad you gently pointed at him. “Me..?” he asked softly as he tried to think about it. “Is it because ive been busy..?” he asked, and when you gave a small nod he felt horrible “I know ive been busy my little fawn... im so sorry i dont mean to be...it must be hard for you since its been so crazy..” You nodded again as a small sigh left your mouth.  
“I promise i will try to be here more my little deer..” He said softly. “What would you like to do today my little fawn.. We can do anything you want to...” alastor said as he gently looked over to you. You bable softly in respone, a soft smile on alastors face as you do “Hm, that sounded like music, am i right?” he asked. You cooed at his answer which basically meant yes so with a smile he gently got you up and carried you to your changing table “ok baby fawn but you gotta get changed first, and then we can ok?”. You nodded softly as he changed you and put you in a onesie, then he grabbed your blanky, paci, and stuffie as he made his way to his raido tower. He opend the window softly as he went and sat in his chair as he turned on his raido which turned on soft lullubys for you as he gently swayed with you and your stuffie. 
The night was peaceful as later made you dinner, read you books, and gave you a bubble bath, because no matter how busy he was, Alastor always made time for you, after all he was your papa, and you were his fawn.  
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
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sweetismyaddiction · 21 hours
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Part 1 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist
SUCROSE
Chapter 2: Sugary
Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Word account: 2005
Summary: Where the nicknames came from, how they meet, starts. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)
Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, mentions of menstruation and coffee facts?
A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like and comment. I am accepting suggestions for next parts. Please be nice. Past in italic. Gif is not mine, credits to the owner.
Spencer’s point of view
It has been weeks since Morgan met my neighbor and he can’t just drop it aside. At least he has capited a secret so far.
“I am just curious. That 's all. The girl has the key of your place and you never mentioned her.”
“I did talk about her…”
It's a murmur, Morgan almost can't hear it, maybe things were better when no one knew she existed besides me.
“She called you Sugarpout… Does Pretty Boy have a Lady?”
There is mocking in his tone, and a little of happiness.
“What exactly are you asking Morgan?”
“Are you two dating?”
“She is my friend, we ain't dating”
“Oh, pitty, she is beautiful, maybe I should gave a shot, she is very talkative”
“Leave the girl alone Derek.”
“Why? Are you jealous? Worried that I stil her? We could be your couple's best friend. Me and her would make cute babies”
“I am not jealous. Just shut up”
He leaves me be, we take care of paperwork, but he can't stop, it's like I can hear the engineers of his brain thinking.
“Ok, I just really got to know, where Sugarpout came from? I can't stop thinking about that”
“Why? Is just a nickname”
“A special nickname”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Why so much secret?”
The truth is, I don’t really know why, where, when it all started. Is if we have being knowing each other even before we existed.
—----------------------------------------------------------
It was a rainy day, and I was just getting to my building when a strange woman got under my umbrella tugging herself at me.
“My savior. Could you leave me there? To that building?”
Was my building… is she a stalker?
“Sorry for just throwing myself at you. Is just I am made from sugar, so I could have melted with the rain”
Ok, she gots a weird sense of humor. Doesn’t she know about the danger of talking with strangers? That is one of the reasons I get so much work to do. She smells nice though… What am I thinking? Why is she staring at me? Say something Spencer!
“Ahn… yes… I was just going that way too.”
We walk together to the building and she opens the door, almost closing it in my face.
“Sorry. Why are you coming in?”
“I live here”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know that. I am a new resident. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too”
She didn’t try to shake my hand… so she respects boundaries and personal space the same way she doesn’t do that? She is so confusing, she seems like a very complex human being.
We both get to the elevator and she presses the button… is my floor button… How I didn’t know about someone moving to my floor? Maybe because I spent the last three days away in a case. The elevator stops and she gets out with me behind her, observing her body language. Wait a minute, that’s… she lives just in front of me.
“Are you following me?”
“Ehn…” she catch me staring, I am probably very red and more awkward then the normal me. “No, no. It's just, we are neighbors, I live here, just across the hall.”
She keeps looking at me, like if she is not sure to believe me or not, just open your damn door Spencer, and prove you ain't lying.
“See?”
“Nice place, very organized…”
When she ends up beside me? Her eyes run across my place, making quick analysis scanning what she can see by the door.
“Ok, I will live you be, sorry for being so intrusive, and thanks for the umbrella ride.”
“You’re welcome. Also, welcome to the building”
She smiles, her smile is pretty.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a nock on my door. Weird, I basically don’t get visited. I open it slowly and there she is the rain day girl, and she has something in hands.
“Hi, I made some cookies, and decided to give you some, since you were so nice to me that day”
“Oh, thanks.” I was very surprised. “You didn’t have to.”
“No problem, it is a pleasure. I hope you like them. It is the classic one, with chocolate drips.”
“It was very thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it.”
I take it from her hands, every time I see her there is that warm feeling, she is always so nice to me.
“How is the moving going?”
“Slow, I'm still putting things in place. The kitchen is almost ready. I am not in a rush to finish it to be honest. Just, baby steps, one day at a time…”
“Well, it is your space, your stuff, it is alright going slow, its you, it should go in your pace”
“Thanks. Well, when you finish the cookies you can return the ball.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------
The cookies were the most delicious ones I have eaten in my life. I made sure to compliment her, and the way she smiles and giggles, makes my heart beat faster in my chest.
Today I discovered that I am out of sugar, so why don't I go to the new girl? She made cookies and other delicious stuff she is always happy to share with me, for sure she has sugar.
“Just a cup? Sure Sweetie, I will go grab it for you, make yourself comfortable.”
I shyly enter her house, the first thing that hits me is the smell, I think haven smell exactly like it, I can see she still has a few boxes, but all the essentials are displayed, a kindle, books, a lot of types of books, fantasy, biography, history, classics… she also has a few plants, no much decoration… Why is that hard profile her?
“Here you go, a cup of sugar to my sweet boy”
I asked her sugar a lot of other times after that, just to see her, to feel my blood run in my veins, the fast piece of my heart, the smell invading my nose, that warm feeling.
—----------------------------------------------------------------
“Hi, so, do you have plans for today?”
She was standing outside my door, smiling at me, eyes glowing. How can she always be so beautiful?
“No. I did not plan anything for today.”
“Great. What do you say about taking me to a coffee shop? Any coffee you do like to go. Wanna know more about my neighbor.”
“Hm… Yeah, sure. I will just grab my things”
We go to a nearby coffeehouse and order our drinks while we have small talk.
“I love those cloudy and rainy days, so calm…”
Our orders get to the table and she points out when I drink my full of sugar cup of coffee
“Someone really likes sugar.” She smiles and is like electricity running me. “I can't drink black coffee, it gives me an awful headache.”
“Actually. Caffeine withdrawal could be an important but often overlooked cause of headache.”
She nods in agreement.
“People say that I am just being silly or have an infant paladar. I have tried a lot of types of black coffee, but nothing worked. So i decided just to drink my milk coffee, tha latte”
“Caffeine or 1,3,7-trimethylxanthine is totally, actually 99% and rapidly absorbed; it reaches the highest plasma concentrations after 30-60 minutes of ingestion, but this duration can be shorter or longer due to the variation in gastric emptying time. The half-life of caffeine fluctuates between 2.5 and 4.5 hours in young individuals but can be longer in elderly. Caffeine can cross all biological membranes including blood-brain barrier because of its lipophilic character. Only a very small amount of caffeine is excreted in the urine. It is metabolized in the liver, mainly by the cytochrome P450 1A2, to paraxanthine, theobromine, theophylline, and further to urates. Caffeine acts on the brain and the heart by blocking adenosine receptors and inhibiting phosphodiesterase. It is considered the most common psychostimulant, it enhances concentration, improves mood and energy, induces wakefulness, and enhances exercise performance. It can also trigger anxiety, tachycardia, and hypertension. Caffeine is known to cause dependence and withdrawal symptoms such as fatigue and headache.”
Oh, no, no. She is going to think I am such a weirdo now. Couldn't I just keep my mouth shut? Things were good, where nice, and now I ruin it all.
“I have heard that coffee was addictive, but I didn’t know it was absorbed that fast, or that it didn't get expelled out of our body by urine like most of the other drinks. Maybe one of those things causes my headache every time I try to drink black coffee”
“Caffeine also narrows blood vessels that surround the brain. That is its link to headache. In some types of headaches, the blood vessels in the brain dilate, or swell. They expand into the surrounding tissues, which triggers pain.”
Why can’t I shut my mouth, she is lookin at me. She will avoid me like the plague. Why am I like that? Can’t have anything nice, ever! It is like I can’t stop, and she does not stop me, so I just keep rumbling.
“Headaches in general are a common problem for reproductive age women. Migraine headaches are 3 times more common in women than men in this age group with the difference believed to be the result of hormonal fluctuations. In women with spontaneous ovulatory cycles, headaches have been documented to occur more frequently immediately before and during the first few days of menses. Approximately half of women with migraine headaches report their occurrence associated with menstruation, with decreasing estradiol levels hypothesized as the etiologic factor. Today's low-dose oral contraceptives all contain the same estrogen component (ethinyl estradiol [EE]) but vary in the progestin component. Until recently, all progestins in OCs, the oral contraceptives (norethindrone, levonorgestrel, desogestrel, and norgestimate) were derivatives of 19-nortestosterone. A novel OC with the progestin drosperinone (DRSP) is not derived from 19-nortestosterone, but instead derived from spironolactone. This DRSP-containing OC has been shown in a large placebo-controlled trial to significantly improve the physical and behavioral symptoms of premenstrual syndrome (PMS) and premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) attributed to its unique antimineralocorticoid activity. This improvement in symptoms has been attributed to the antimineralocorticoid activity of the spironolactone-derived DRSP. Spironolactone is the only diuretic shown in randomized placebo-controlled trials to improve the behavioral and physical symptoms of PMS. While studies using validated instruments have shown improvement in PMS/PMDD with DRSP-containing OCs, headaches have not been specifically addressed.”
I managed to hold myself for a few seconds and she finally speaks something.
“Are you trying to mansplain my menstruation cycle to me?”
“No, no… that's not it, I was just…”
“It is ok, I believe you”
She smiles, how her chicks don’t hurt with how much she smiles? Why, how is her smile always so captive.
“Spironolactone. I didn’t know about the diuretic in the OCs. It is interesting to know that, I have noticed that when I drink more water my period of blood in the menstrual cycle feels less worse than normally does.”
She… she paid attention, and… interacted? My heart hammers as a symphony in my chest. It seems the whole word is more worm, as if I had been in the cold dark without releasing it until she showed up illuminating everything and involved me with a cozy blanket proofing there is more, what truly could my life be, how good could it be. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
From that day, I knew I was different, happier, she became a constant thought, always making everything better, the world more supportable. I felt the butterflies, the tingling, that stupid and uncontrollable happiness, the craving of being in contact with her, the maximum and anyway I could. It just happened, little by little. With no rush, never.
“Hey, Kid.”
Morgan snaps his fingers in front of my eyes.
“Where did this pretty brain of yours was?”
The teasing again, but we hadn’t had time, JJ passed rushing calling for a case, urgent.
A/N: Did you guys like the dades I insert? I had to read a few articles, I have the links, they will be right below. Thanks for the support. If you like the little facts let me know so then maybe I will bring more (cause in my opinion is a very Spencer Reid thing to do, talk about the facts.)
Links:
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1663116/
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1051227621000339
https://www.uclahealth.org/news/caffeine-connection-between-coffee-and-headaches#:~:text=Caffeine%20also%20narrows%20blood%20vessels,surrounding%20tissues%2C%20which%20triggers%20pain.
https://headachejournal.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1526-4610.2007.00650.x
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hii!! I love your hcs 💗💗
may I request naoto tachibana x fem!reader?
this has been rotting in my head for the longest time ever: so in the series, naoto said that his memory gets overwritten when a new timeline is created. so I was thinking imagine fem!reader who he loves, but every timeline she is always somewhere else, further away from him. so maybe after seeing the outcome of his sister's fate and discussing with takemichi when a new timeline is created, he also checks on fem!reader. one timeline she'd be living in another city, one timeline she'd not even remember him, and what if there's one where she is part of a criminal organization, tasked to kill naoto. what is the outcome gonna be? is she gonna be able to complete her task? or will she end up falling for him in the process?
THIS IS ALL I CAN THINK OF FOR WEEKS 😭😭 sorry it's quite long omg thank you and have a great day!! 💖💖
Ahh that actually sounds really cool! I kinda came up with this for it (it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger though)
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You're always on his mind, everytime the timeline gets rewritten there are three things he does. 1. Check to see if his sister is alive 2. Find Takemichi and 3. Find you.
He knows he shouldn't be focused on you, that he should concentrate on saving his sister. But he can't help it, you won't leave his mind. He loves you.
Of course Takemichi only encourages this, always telling him to go after you and find you. And so that's what he does in every timeline. 
In the first timeline that he can remember, you were his neighbour. It was funny how that had worked out, the two of you attending the same school as kids then living in the same building as each other as adults. He didn't really talk to you much but you were always so kind to him. Helping him out here and there, always smiling at him. 
The second timeline was the one that really changed things for him though. He wasn't expecting to find a ring on his finger or a wife waiting for him. He didn't know what to think at first but he fell hard and quickly for you, his wife. You were just so understanding and loving towards him, even when he was out late with Takemichi trying to figure things out. He liked your company before but now he loved you and of course he wanted to keep you. Something that he would end up aiming for in every timeline.
He isn't so lucky in the third timeline, the two of you were married again so of course you were also dragged along by Takemichi as "moral support" for seeing Hina. Which lead to all four of you being in the car, he had to run off for work but he thought you would be safe. He didn't think you.....                        you and Hina were chatting in the car and waiting for Takemichi when Akkun drove into the car. You were killed instantly from the collision, leaving Naoto to organise your funeral as well as his sister's. He swore he wouldn't let something like that happen again to you after that day. 
In the fourth timeline you weren't around at all, Naoto searched and searched but couldn't find you not anywhere. It wasn't until he was searching through some old stuff of his that he vaguely remembered you leaving to study and work abroad after finishing school. He hated that you weren't around but was also somewhat relieved. With him working with Kazutora and Chifuyu he was putting himself in a lot of danger, he didn't want you to be at risk too. He vowed to find you in the next timeline though, in the safer one. 
He was wrong though, this timeline wasn't safer and he didn't find you, you found him. He knew he would be a target after shooting Mikey but he wasn't expecting you to come after him. He's not sure how you got mixed up with Kisaki and Izana but it's clear you worked for them and had no idea who he was or once was to you. 
You'd been tailing him for weeks, following him around and observing him. Of course he'd noticed you immediately but said nothing. Instead he smiled at you each time your gazes met, the same way you had smiled at him in the very first timeline. You didn't smile back this time though, each time you would turn away or go back to pretending to just be a normal person who just so happened to be near him. 
Until that one evening, he was at home trying to finish off a report when he thought he heard something behind him. He was too slow to react though, you were immediately on top of him, restraining him and searching for hidden weapons. He only watched you, didn't even try to struggle against your tight grip. You pointed the gun at his head and he closed his eyes. You hesitated, something deep down telling you to not kill this guy. You didn't really know him, you'd just watched him a few weeks but you couldn't do it. Something was stopping you so the shot never rang out. When Naoto opened his eyes again you were gone, leaving his apartment as stealthily as you came in. 
He searched for you so hard after that but nothing, it's like you had disappeared. He didn't get to see you again there but you saw him one last time. After raiding the club with Koko and Inui you came out to see two bodies lying still on the floor. Closing the detectives eyes for him, you wondered why you were crying
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well now that we know the cult is back, imma need some heavy bernard angst from the comic. the panic attacks, relapses into unhealthy behavior, pushing people away, imma need all of it.
#'but you're okay now?'#'some days.'#make that no days now bear#i need it to start off innocuously too. like he puts off a date or two claiming that he has homework. he's clumsier now. like he doesn't#care what's in front of him. he walks into a pole once and ends up with a huge bruise on his shoulder. bernard presses on it for weeks.#and then comes the 'it's just once. I'm not gonna do it again.' behavior. the purposeful pain. the dig his nails into his wrists until#it stings. the bandages on the inside of his thighs kinda pain.#the 'tim can never find out about this' type of unhealthy behavior.#i need bernard to escalate until he wakes up aching one day and it's like he's gone back in time to the beginning of his cult days.#i need him to look himself in the mirror one morning and realize that even if could stop hurting himself he's not going to.#i need him to start loitering around the old cult building knowing that it's wrong to wish they were still active but wanting it anyway.#i need him to go on several benders. so sorry but i think he has a fake id and definitely buys alcohol.#oh my god... wait wait wait!#i need him to go out one night after assuring tim that he's gonna go straight home and get kidnapped by the cult again.#oh my god he wakes up on the altar again. mouth filled filled with wine and his hands tied down and he-#he relaxes. because he was chosen the first time and now he been chosen again. he's still good. thank god thank god he's still good.#and the first time they chose him he was bad. struggled too much begged too hard to be let go. but he's better now.#they chose him. again. he won't fight it this time. he'll be good this time.#this is just your friendly reminder that#cult conditioning takes at /least/ 5 years to wear off. usually more.#my man bernard is gonna be having a Lot of bad days#anyway#bernard dowd#dc#td:r#timbern#ig
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this-doesnt-endd · 1 year
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Therers so many things happening all the time everyday i get emails my god
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cry-ba-bys · 4 months
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YOU'RE AN ANGEL I'M A DOG OR YOU'RE A DOG AND I'M YOUR MAN YOU BELIVE ME LIKE A GOD I DESTROY YOU LIKE I AM
#Rant ahead I'm already sorry but yk. I'm actually not.#My mental health has been so bad in the last months and right now it feels like I will just never leave the stage of being a mentally ill#Loser. I know I've made so much progress over the years but right now everything hurts again and I feel more alone than ever. Maybe that's#Also why I made this blog but I'm not ready for that thought yet. I built such an amazing social circle with genuinely the most amazing#people ever around me and now I feel like I've destroyed everything again by just not answering them and completely isolating myself for#Fucking months and I can't tell if it's because my friends actually hate me now (which tbf I understand#I love them nonetheless.)#Or if it's just my bad mental state that's making me belive that#That and everything else that just seems to be going wrong is just so so much for me right now. I don't know how long I can do this anymore#But I also don't know any way out of this#I always end up like this and it's so annoying. How am I supposed to ever be a functional adult when talking to people is too much for me?#How am I ever supposed to believe someone can love me when I'm just the way I am#God I hate myself so much.#A few days a week I see one of my friends on the bus when we have to go to work and we chat until it's my stop. Its never more than 5#Minutes and it's always about school or work and because of that I feel more alone than ever. How am I ever supposed to built meaningful#Friendships If I know after next winter our conversations will just revolve around meaningless shit again. We used to joke about#Building a utopia through political action and we used to sit in a kitchen until 3 am and talk and talk and talk but it all felt so#Meaningful cause we were together and that made everything better. And now I talk to one of them if so happen to catch the bus at the same#Time and we talk about school. It fucking sucks#And it's all my fault
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atrwriting · 5 months
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trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
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hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was
informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know
as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash
anyway.... here's trust me:
when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.
a lot of it.
and an old building.
the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.
the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.
within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.
until one day. that day.
you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.
mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?
that was dangerous. too dangerous.
even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.
on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?
you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.
when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.
you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“ma’am?”
you turned around.
a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.
but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.
you smiled. “another drink, sir?”
“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”
you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”
you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”
“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”
you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”
he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”
“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”
“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”
“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”
“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”
you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.
“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.
and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.
the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.
billy, on the other hand… did not agree.
one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.
“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”
“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”
you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”
“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.
you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”
the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.
as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.
“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”
“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”
“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”
“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”
“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”
“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”
you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.
the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.
you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.
“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”
you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.
“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”
“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”
you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”
“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”
“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.
through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”
“pay. the. tab.”
he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.
“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”
that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.
“time for you to leave, friend.”
the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”
“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.
the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.
you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.
but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”
you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”
“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”
“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”
“‘s my job.”
“i know… but still,” you spoke.
you were continuing to close before he spoke again.
“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.
“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”
“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”
you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”
“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“
“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”
from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.
he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.
you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.
but he kept that to himself.
however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.
“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.
you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”
to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.
but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.
“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”
“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.
there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”
“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”
you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.
“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.
if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...
that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.
the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.
“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.
billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.
“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”
a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.
“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”
there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.
you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.
it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.
“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”
jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.
“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”
you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”
he tipped his hat to you.
“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”
without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.
you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“
“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”
a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”
“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.
you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.
“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.
“knocked,” he bit.
you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”
“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”
you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”
“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”
you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”
you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.
he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.
you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.
no. you couldn't.
you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.
“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”
“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”
“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”
“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.
“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.
billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.
“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”
“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”
“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.
he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”
you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”
he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.
“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.
“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.
“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.
“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.
you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.
you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.
“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.
you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.
“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”
“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”
“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“
“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”
that shut you right up.
billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.
…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.
“what — what —“ you stammered.
“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”
you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.
“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.
his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.
“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”
billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.
“look at me, sweetheart.”
your eyes glanced back up to him.
like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.
“y’trust me?” he asked.
you hummed in agreement, nodding.
“say it.”
you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”
instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.
that was when his fingers picked up speed.
and, god… did it feel damn good.
“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”
“still trust me?”
“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”
he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.
“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”
you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.
“something — feels —“
“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.
“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“
“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”
and that was it.
the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.
a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.
“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.
“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”
it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”
“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”
“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”
his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”
“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”
he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.
“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”
“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”
you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.
“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”
you nodded, half ignoring him.
but it didn’t hurt.
the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.
“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“
“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”
“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.
you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.
billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.
that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.
“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”
“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.
“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”
you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”
his hips snapped against you. hard.
maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.
“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”
his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.
“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”
“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.
billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”
you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.
“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”
you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.
his touch. only his touch.
“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”
the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.
“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“
“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”
he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.
with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.
his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.
he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.
“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“
he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.
“billy — you didn’t —“
“s’alright, darlin’—“
“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”
“that... thing?”
“with my mouth.”
he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.
“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”
his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?
“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.
he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.
you tried to hide your smirk from him.
he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.
"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.
he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."
you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.
you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.
"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.
you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"
you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.
that shut him up.
a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.
you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.
but you did anyway.
you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.
"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."
you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.
you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.
from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.
tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.
you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.
both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.
above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?
he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.
"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"
"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.
the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.
"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."
you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.
"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."
you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.
"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"
he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.
"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."
you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."
"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."
you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.
"on one condition," you spoke.
his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.
"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."
"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."
---
what did we think?? xox
-L
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jyoongim · 2 months
Note
Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!
This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!
⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!
—————————————————————————————
No one suspected a thing.
You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.
Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”
And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.
Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.
Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.
————————————————————————————
You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!
Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.
At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it
But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.
Especially Alastor.
Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.
Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.
A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.
Vox.
You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”
”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.
You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 
You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”
Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 
Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.
You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”
The phone call ended and you were in tears.
You didn’t want to go back. 
You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 
You liked the friends you had made here.
You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.
————————————————————————
“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.
You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.
You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.
”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”
You fiddled with your hands.
”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”
Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.
”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”
You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.
Of Vox and his plan.
The deal between you and Vox.
The reason you came to the hotel.
Everything.
”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!
Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.
Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.
The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.
His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.
 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.
And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.
However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.
You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.
”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.
”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.
He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him
He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”
You wiped at your eyes “how so?”
“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.
He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 
He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.
”I know just the thing hehehe”
————————————————————————————
You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.
“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.
Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.
”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.
Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.
”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.
“I know you will baby” 
He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.
Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.
”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 
“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”
His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.
You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.
”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.
Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.
”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.
”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”
Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.
The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 
“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”
Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.
Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.
In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.
Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.
Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.
”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”
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scarletlizzard · 1 month
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Inked Desires - Part 2
Read Part 1 right here
Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.
Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader
Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication
Masterlist
A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.
Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞
That being said, there will be a part 3 😄
"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.
"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.
That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.
You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.
Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.
"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.
"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.
You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.
"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.
"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.
"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.
"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.
"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.
You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.
"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.
An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.
"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.
"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.
Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."
You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.
"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.
As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.
"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.
"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.
"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.
"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.
"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.
"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.
As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.
"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.
"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.
From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.
It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.
There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.
"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.
"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.
"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."
You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.
"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.
"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.
"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.
"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.
****
Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.
You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.
But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.
You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.
"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.
"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.
"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.
"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.
"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.
"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.
It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.
"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.
If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.
"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.
You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.
"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.
You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.
"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.
"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.
Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.
"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.
You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.
"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.
"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.
"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.
"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.
When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.
After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.
You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.
Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.
"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.
You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.
"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.
"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.
"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.
"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.
Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.
At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.
You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.
"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.
Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.
You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.
Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.
"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.
"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.
You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.
"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.
As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.
With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.
"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.
"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.
Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.
"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.
"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.
"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.
At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.
When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.
You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.
Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.
"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.
Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.
"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.
"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.
She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.
"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.
"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.
Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.
"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.
Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.
Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."
You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.
"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.
"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.
The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.
"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.
After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.
"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.
"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.
****
"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.
After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.
She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.
"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.
"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"
"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.
"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.
"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.
You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.
"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.
That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?
"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.
Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.
Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.
"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.
"No, not -"
"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.
"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.
"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.
You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"
And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.
"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.
***
A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.
Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.
Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.
But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.
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skbeaumont · 17 days
Text
Just a Graze | Joel x Reader oneshot
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One-shot Joel/Reader. Previously posted in two parts but thought I'd make a masterpost for this one.
Summary: Joel comes back injured, and while you patch him up the tension that's been building for several months threatens to break.
Tags/warnings: dirty talk, explicit content, language, injury detail (not explicit), MDNI, sexual tension, PIV, oral (F receiving), FILTH
Word Count: 4.3k
Joel’s bleeding when he gets back. The screen door clatters shut behind him, wire shuddering against the wood, and you look up from the table. His face is set, a solid frown painted across his features – nothing unusual – but there’s a downward turn to his mouth that you recognise as a pained expression. He steps in and leans against the counter, one hand on the warped wood, the other pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers, clotting around his knuckles, staining his jacket red.
“I’m okay,” he says as you spring up from your place at the dusty kitchen table, “it’s just a graze.”
“Bullet?” You ask, ignoring his attempts to wave off your concern.
“Barbed wire,” he says, letting you lead him further into the cabin, toward the misshapen couch, “stupid mistake, I didn’t see it.”
The shotgun clatters onto the floor at his feet as he collapses onto the couch with a groan. He doesn’t protest as you pull his fist away from the wound, your hand warm against his wind-chilled fingers. The cut isn’t deep, but the wire has torn through his jacket and shirt down to the flesh of his shoulder, leaving a jagged cut that’s oozing blood.
“You must be getting old,” you say, standing to search through your pack for the first aid kit, “your eyes are going as well as your ears.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes. Or my ears.”
“Sorry?”
“I said, there-” he notices your grin, the glint of mischief in your eye. He sighs heavily. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”
You huff out a laugh and pull a kitchen chair across to sit opposite him. You open the first aid kit – which is really no more than a small washbag stuffed with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of bandages – on your lap, pull out the disinfectant and start unscrewing the cap. “Can you take your jacket off?” You ask, and he nods, starts unzipping it and pulling it off of his uninjured arm. He winces a little as he peels it past his bad shoulder, shakes it down his arm and lays it over his lap, frowning at the gash in the fabric.
“I can patch that up when we get back to Jackson.” You say.
“Ain’t going back ‘til we’ve something to bring back.” He replies, and now it’s your turn to sigh.
“We’ve got two deer and a whole family of rabbits, Joel. There’s nothing else out here for us to get.”
“We both saw that clinic complex, and I ain’t arguing with you about this again. Winter’s well on its way, and we need as much medicine as we can get to make it through. I almost got in today – would have, if I hadn’t got caught on that damned barbed wire. We’ll both go back tomorrow.”
He fixes you with a hard stare, one that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, though whether it’s through fear or something else, you’re not sure. You’ve been partnering up for a couple of months now, going out on hunts and supply runs, growing slowly closer over long hikes and cold nights camping out under the stars.
At first, he intimidated you. He was cold, harsh; a solid bulk of a man who never smiled and rarely spoke, except to tell you to keep your voice down or stop walking so loudly. But then, gradually, he’d started loosening up around you. A few weeks ago he’d cracked a smile at a joke you’d made – something stupid about a bird in a tree, the kind of joke your dad used to make when you were a kid – and then that smile had grown into a deep chuckle a couple of days later, and then a conversation, whispered and illusive, under a starry sky last week.
This latest trip outside Jackson had been the most enjoyable yet, conversation flowing easily between you, and you were starting to suspect that the strange swooping feeling in your stomach that arose each time he looked at you, or bumped against you as you walked had a lot less to do with how intimidating he could be, and a lot more to do with him.
Now, locking eyes with him over the opened bottle of Lysol, his eyes dark and with an argument boiling up between you, that feeling blossoms into something hot and delicious, stirring a fire in your belly that makes you bold.
“From where I’m sat,” you say, tipping the bottle of Lysol so that the disinfection pours out onto a clean swab, “you don’t seem to have much choice about what we’re doing next. You’re hurt, and I need to patch you up, so stop arguing and take your shirt off.”
He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it again, eyes flicking up to your face. A hint of red creeps up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, tinging them scarlet in the low light of the cabin. You keep glaring at him. He lets out a long breath through his nose and moves to unbutton his shirt. The shirt is old, vintage, even – probably older than you – with mismatched buttons and a crumpled, frayed look. It comes apart easily, Joel’s fingers working down the buttons nimbly until he reaches the bottom. He pauses there, looks up at your face. You look away, because heat is creeping up your own neck now, hot and unbridled, as he pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and lets it fall open onto the couch behind him.
After his dark eyes, the most notable thing about Joel is his stature. He’s tall, and broad enough to fill any room he’s in. You’ve seen him lift grown men like they weigh nothing, watched him pick up a dead deer and throw it over one shoulder without so much as a stumble. Last month you went out on horseback to scope a potential hunting ground, and, sitting behind him in the saddle, you couldn’t see anything past the triangular bulk of his shoulders, your hands clasped easily around his waist. So, yeah, you know he’s strong, could tell anyone that the man is built. But when you look at him in the half-light with his shirt off, uncovered by layers of leather or plaid, the sight still sends blood rushing to your face.
His shoulders are broad, curving into thick biceps that tense as he raises a hand to scratch, self-consciously, at the back of his neck. There are small scars littering his chest, running down in narrow white slices to his belly, which is softer than the rest of him, sloping and scattered with coarse hair that continues below the buckle of his belt. You want to press your face into it, kiss the contours of his bellybutton and the plains of his chest, up to the juncture of his throat, which bobs as he swallows, eyes shifting to catch yours.
“You gonna patch me up or just stare?” He asks, and there’s something teasing in his voice, something that causes heat and slick to pool in between your thighs. “I- you’ve got a lot of scars.” You say, stupidly, tipping more Lysol onto the cloth you’re holding.
“Had a lot of run-ins with barbed wire.” He replies, the words turning to a hiss when you press the wet cloth to the cut on his shoulder.
“Should be more careful.”
“Now where would the fun be in that, darlin’?”
Oh, that’s new. You’ve heard him call Ellie pet names before, laughed when she rolls her eyes and shirks away from his affections, all fifteen years old and too cool to be coddled. But he’s never called you anything but your name – never so much as shortened it to a nickname like almost everyone else does. You flick your gaze from his wound to his face. His eyes are dark, expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze makes you look away, cheeks reddening. You pull the cloth away from his arm and start wrapping a clean bandage around his shoulder.
“Sorry,” he says, after a pause. “I forget, sometimes. Recently.”
“Forget what?”
“That you’re young enough to be my-” He cuts himself off here, “that you’re a hell of a lot younger’n I am.”
This makes you laugh out loud, a huff of breath exhaled. You’re still opposite each other, him on the sofa, knees spread wide, you in the kitchen chair. If you inched forward only slightly your own legs would be between his.
“Old days I’d have been old enough to drink and drive, and more than old enough to flirt, Joel.”
“That what you want? You want me to flirt with you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.
You shrug and hold his gaze. “I think it’s what you want too. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”
You have. He thinks he’s being discrete, but you’ve seen how his eyes linger on your legs, how he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest when you wear something low cut. A few weeks ago you’d seen him adjust himself in his jeans when you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in a stream you’d come across after two days out searching for supplies.
“And how’s that?” He asks. You have to hold yourself back from leaning forward and kissing the worried crease of his mouth.
“Like you’re a man dying of thirst and I’m an oasis.”
He scoffs at that. “Shoulda been a writer, sweetheart.”
“And how does this story end?”
“Ends with you walking away from me like you should’ve months ago. This,” he flicks a finger at himself and then you, “ain’t happening.”
“Why not? You want it, I want it. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Problem is,” he slides his arms off the sofa, reaching back to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, “you think you know what you want, but you don’t.” He starts buttoning the shirt, fixing you with a stern look. “Trust me.”
He tries to stand but you put your hands on his knees, holding him in place.
“No way,” You say, your heart thumping in your chest, “you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t want.”
“What do you want? You want me to fuck you? Want me to spread your pretty little legs out across this couch and make you come on my tongue?”
Yes. God, yes.
“What if I do? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?” You slide your hands further up his legs, holding him down on the couch. If he wanted to, he could push you off easily, but he doesn’t. When your fingertips reach the tops of his thighs he slides his hands over your wrists and pins them where they are, stopping you moving any higher.
“Find someone your own age, sweetheart. Someone whose knees don’t creak when the stand up. Someone who can make you happy.” And then he’s standing up, moving your hands off of him with ease, stepping around you in the kitchen chair to stride to the other side of the room, the tension collapsing in on itself as he tells you to get some sleep, that there’s more work to do tomorrow.
*****
The next morning brings rain. It hammers against the walls of the cabin and drips in through the leaky roof. Joel stands at the window, one hand on his hip, silently looking out at the downpour.
“Tell me you’re not considering going out in this?” You say, moving up behind him to peer out at the lashing rain.
“Might ease up later.” He says, turning to face you. “There’s enough to do in here to keep us occupied, anyway.”
“Guns?” You ask.
“Guns.” He agrees.
Joel’s fanatical about keeping the guns clean and working. It makes sense, you suppose. You don’t know much about his past, about how he and Ellie ended up in Jackson, but what you’ve heard, the snippets Ellie’s confided in you over quiet conversations, makes for grim listening. To Joel, those guns mean the difference between life and death.
And so you both sit at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning Joel’s shotgun and your pistol, passing cloths and gun oil between you. You make casual conversation as you go, neither of you touching on the events of the previous evening. After he dismissed you last night you’d gone straight to bed, tucked yourself into the dusty single bed in the bedroom while Joel took the couch. Your dreams had been hazy and pleasant, and you’d woken up flushed.
You’re sliding the magazine back into your pistol when Joel jumps and swears, pulling his hand back from where he’s trapped his finger in the loading mechanism of the shotgun. A tiny bead of blood wells up and spills over his fingertip and he sighs heavily. You reach out and take his hand in yours to examine the cut. It's tiny - you've seen paper-cuts do more damage - but Joel's frowning like he's in pain.
“You’ve gotta stop being so clumsy.” You say.
“I’m not clumsy.” He replies, letting you turn his hand in yours, watching you watch his thick fingers, take in the breadth of his knuckles.
“No?”
“No. It’s-”
You're not sure what makes you do it - maybe it's frustration still boiling over from yesterday, maybe it's the way Joel looks at you as you clasp his large hand in your own smaller one -  but before he can finish speaking you pull his arm across the table and wrap your lips around his finger. You snake your tongue over the pad of the digit and the noise he makes then - a breathy, broken groan - sends fire surging through you, heat coiling between your thighs.
“Distraction.” He finishes.
When you pull your mouth away and place a wet kiss to the palm of his hand, he slides his fingers across your jaw and up into the mess of your hair. His hand is hot against your scalp, curving around the back of your neck, leading you forward so that he can fit his mouth against yours across the table.
Pleasure flutters out from the pull of his fingers in your hair, and his lips are soft and dry until he opens his mouth to you, guiding your tongue into his mouth, pressing his into yours. It’s slow at first. Tentative, as though he’s waiting for you to push him away. But you’ve never wanted anything more, and when you moan against his lips he stands, bracketing your face with both hands to pull you up from your own chair.
It’s a messy walk backwards from the table. You bump against the broken coffee table, pull away from his mouth to curse and rub your shin, but then he’s falling back onto the couch, pulling you down into his lap so that your thighs are bracketing his legs.
You pause like that, looking at each other, both breathless and dazed, lips bruised.
“This what you want?” He asks again, placing his hand at your jaw gently. His fingers are thick, hand so large that his thumb rests at your temple and while his index finger sits under your chin.
“I want you, Joel. Please.”
When he kisses you again, it’s hungry and animalistic. All pretence of hesitation is gone. He presses his mouth to your throat, lets his teeth scrape the delicate skin below your ear.
“This is still a bad idea.” He says, voice breaking when you roll your hips against his. ”Shit.”
“Please, Joel.” Your voice sounds tiny, shrill to your own ears, desperate and pathetic, but Joel bites at the juncture of your neck and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the feel of his hands on your hips, guiding you against him, pulling your clothed cunt against where he’s impossibly hard in his jeans.
“I’m gonna take this off.” He says, pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head. “And this.” He runs a hand over your covered tit, pinches your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your bra, rolls it between his finger and thumb while his other hand slides up your back and unclasps it. It falls between you, forgotten immediately.
“Fuck, darlin’, look at you.” He says, running the knuckle of his index finger over the swell of your chest, down along your ribs and across one hip. He lets his hand fall away, brings it back up to the side of your face, pulls your lips back to his and drags your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.
Pain and pleasure blossom through you, make you scrabble at the buttons of his shirt, fingers shaking as you try and get them undone. He helps, slides the shirt off of his back, careful where his shoulder is still sore. He balls it up and casts it across the room, then grips your hips and lifts you, turning you onto your back on the sofa, pressing himself between your open thighs. The change in angle presses the seam of your jeans against your clit, a jolt of pleasure rocking through you.
“You ever done this before?” He asks, hovering over you, dipping down to press a chaste kiss against your collarbone.
“I ain’t that innocent, Joel.” You reply, gasping when he pulls your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. “Have you?”
This earns you a deep chuckle, a hushed whisper against the back of your neck, “I’ve been doing this since before you were born, baby.”
And, fuck, that shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. It has your hips lifting up, seeking out friction. Joel notices and slides down your body, dropping onto his knees on the floor. He runs one hand up the inside of your thigh, presses his thumb expertly against your covered clit.
“I’m gonna take these off now, and then you’re gonna come on my tongue. That sound okay?”
You nod, voice lost as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls them down in one motion, pushing them away in the direction of his discarded shirt.
“Look how wet you are for me already.” He glides two fingers over the front of your soaked underwear, up to the waistband to hook them off.
And then he leans forward, presses light kisses up your thighs until he reaches your cunt. He pauses, blows a cool strip of air against you that has you trying to close your legs, but his hands are there, pinning them open for him. When he seals his lips over your clit and drags his tongue over it you thread your fingers through his hair, pull at the black-grey strands. You squeeze your eyes shut but he pulls away, chastises you gently.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten chocolate, rich and dark, pulling you back so that you gaze down at him.
He swipes his tongue over your slit, gathers the slick that’s pooling there. He’s like a man possessed, eyes dark, hair standing up on end from where you’ve run your hands through it, cursing and moaning as he slides his tongue over your clit, starting up a firm and consistent rhythm that has you bucking against him. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his forearms corded with muscle, biceps flexing up to those impossibly broad shoulders.
“You gonna come on my tongue?” He asks, hardly breaking away from you to grunt out the question.
“Yes, Joel, fuck, please.” You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, can hardly force yourself to keep your eyes on him where he kneels between your thighs like you’re an altar and he’s a lonely priest begging for repentance. It’s this thought – the idea of him worshipping you, tongue lapping over your clit, his eyes blazing with lust – that tips you over the edge. Your cunt clenches around nothing, body wracked with pleasure as you come, hard, on his tongue. He grins into your cunt as he feels you come apart against him, continues pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy as you come down from the high, limbs shaking. When you finally push him away, overly sensitive and buzzing with pleasure, he rocks back on his heels, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Your pleasure is painted across his face, his greying stubble wet with your slick.
He crawls back up onto the couch between your thighs, dips his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lip; on his tongue when he sweeps it against the back of your teeth, heady and sweet. He presses himself against you, drags the front of his jeans over your bare skin. The buckle of his belt catches against your bare stomach and you hiss into his mouth, reach down to unbuckle it. It comes off easily, falls to the floor with a dull thud, and then you slip your fingers through the buttons of his jeans, undo them quickly, desperate to get them off. He stands briefly, pushes them the rest of the way down his thick thighs and then kneels back between your legs. Immediately you slide your hand into the waistband of his briefs. He feels like velvet wrapped around steel, hot and delicious in your fist. He groans into your mouth as you palm him desperately, sliding delicate skin over the head of him, feathering the pad of your thumb against his slit. When you draw his cock out you break away from his needy mouth to look. He’s big: thick, curving slightly to the left, head already weeping precum.
“Fist feels so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.” He tells you, “You gonna let me fuck you?”
It’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given. He chuckles darkly at your needy reply, pushes his briefs the rest of the way off and wraps his own fist around his cock. He slides himself over your cunt, coating himself in your juices. Then he’s notching the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, sucking in a breath as he pushes in gently, slowly, stretching you out deliciously.
“Good girl,” He murmurs, easing himself deeper, feeling you flex and clench around him, “good fucking girl.”
He stills when he’s fully seated inside you, sucks at a spot under your jaw that makes you gasp with pleasure, runs one big palm up your body to paw at your breast, trying to collect himself, twitching inside you with the effort of staying still.
“Cunt’s so goddamn tight, baby.” His voice is broken, pitchy and breathy against your ear.
You run your hands over his back, feeling out the breadth of his shoulders, the thin scars that lace across them, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath your fingers when he finally – finally – starts to move inside you, rocking his hips into yours, dragging himself all the way out and then gliding back in. The head of his cock hits something inside you that sends white hot pleasure jolting through your belly. The cabin is silent now – the rain has stopped – the only sounds are your frantic breathing and low, breathy moans, and Joel’s whispered praises as he rocks against you.
Good girl, so fucking good for me, letting me fuck you like this, cunt so tight around me, could come just thinking about it.
It’s dirty and sloppy and fucking incredible. The power you’ve seen him exert on infected and drunkards and raiders suddenly coiled over you, his muscles pulling you taunt against him when he changes the angle, sits up, pulls you with him so that you’re riding him, his cock somehow buried deeper in your cunt, your thighs bracketing him. You can feel yourself growing closer to release again, pleasure notching up in your belly like fire spreading. Joel shifts slightly again, makes space for his hand to come between you, places his thumb against your clit and presses, draws out slow, gentle circles that match the pace of his thrusts.
“Need my thumb on you clit while my cock’s buried inside you, sweetheart? Gonna come again just like this, huh? Dirty fucking girl.”
His words are like fuel on the fire and within seconds you’re moaning and shaking, cunt clenching around him as you come, harder than before, on his cock. Joel fucks you through it, keeps the steady pressure on your clit.
“Gonna make me come in this tight little pussy,” He says, and you know you shouldn’t, know you should make him pull out, but he feels so good inside you that you grind down on him telling him yes, please, fist your hands into his hair to pull his mouth against yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, all teeth and tongue. He hisses into your mouth as you buck your hips and drive them down on him, and then he’s swearing, fingers digging hard into your hips.
"Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna- shit.” He pulses inside you, painting your cunt with his come, hot and wet inside you.
You continue rocking against each other, slowly, coming down from the high. When he slides out of you and shifts away the old sofa groans out in protest, springs creaking. It makes you laugh, breathless, racking laughter than drives away the sudden realisation of what you’ve just done, of how you’ve indelibly changed the way you look at each other, the relationship between you.
“That was… fucking hell, Joel, that was incredible.”
He’s looking at you sideways, his hair still a mess, stubble still coated with your slick. He’s naked and vulnerable and you think it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When he leans across to slot his lips against yours you grin against him, trying not to think about what happens next.
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kaciebello · 3 months
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Band-aids of death
Masterlist
Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)
Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic)
Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten
Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n
author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :(
word count: 1347
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Percy has been in at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seems like he's good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.
Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway. After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.
Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. however, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.
They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.
Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.
“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own. “ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw. “ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 
“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues, “Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”
“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is. “ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders. “ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”
“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”
“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen. “ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 
“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids. “ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 
“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl. “ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.
“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks. “ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 
“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.” “ Australia?” “No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 
“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him. “You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,
 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.
“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.
He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.
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wandaromanoffroses · 3 months
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"Isn't she gorgeous?"
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
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Requested
Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity
Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.
Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)
Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).
“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 
“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.
You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 
Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.
“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 
“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.
“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.
“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.
“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.
“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 
“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.
“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.
“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 
“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 
“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”
“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.
“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 
“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 
..........................................................................
You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.
You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.
“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 
You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.
She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.
“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 
“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”
“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 
“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 
“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.
“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 
You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.
Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.
“Words bitch.”
“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.
“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 
When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 
She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.
“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 
“Can I take this off angel?”
“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 
“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”
“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.
“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 
“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”
“Natasha, please…”
“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”
“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 
“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.
“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.
“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.
“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.
You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.
“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.
“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”
“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 
Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”
“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.
“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 
“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 
“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 
You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.
“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 
“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  
“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.
As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.
“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”
“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 
“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.
“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.
“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”
2K notes · View notes
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stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.
so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.
it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.
you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.
he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.
but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.
he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.
“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”
simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.
“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.
“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.
“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.
you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.
your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.
“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.
he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.
“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.
“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.
he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.
“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.
“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.
you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”
his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.
“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.
he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.
he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.
he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.
“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”
he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.
simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.
“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”
you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.
“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”
his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.
you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.
he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.
JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER
1K notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 3 months
Note
do a fanfic with leg humping, i beg you, ON MY KNEES 🙏🙏🙏 and with hand kink😜 i don’t care about the back story, i don’t care if it’s matt or chris just do it please 😞
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RESTART
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you couldn’t care about the movie playing, and matt has an idea to keep you occupied. however, you’re not prepared for the punishment when you don’t listen.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, thigh riding, hand kink, edging, overstimulation, degradation, spanking, AFTERCARE
SAFE WORD IS MENTIONED BUT NOT USED!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,021
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is kind of intense??? but i like it??? is that crazy???
sorry for no post yesterday. i’ve been having a not so good week and was exhausted/unmotivated when i got home :(
BUT enjoy reading anon! this one was a little hard, i hope i did okay :)
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you’ve always been fascinated by your boyfriend’s hands. how much bigger they are than yours, how his rings fit perfectly on his fingers; it’s no coincidence that he wears them on only his pointer and pinky.
the both of you sit on the couch. you guys just started watching a movie, but you couldn’t care less about it.
you wished matt’s hands were roaming your body right now, possibly holding your throat as he rails into you. maybe even—
“are you even watching?” he says, snapping you out of your x-rated thoughts.
“yeah.” you lie.
he can tell in an instant that you’re bullshitting him. “you know i don’t like liars.”
“but—”
“get up and strip.”
you blink at him before getting up, slowly taking off your layers until you’re fully nude. he puts his foot on the coffee table across from where he’s seated.
“sit on my thigh.” he smirks. “and ride it.”
you stare blankly at him, wondering where this burst of confidence came from. however, you’re turned on nonetheless.
he chuckles. “i could read you like a book, y/n. you think i don’t know you were thinking about me fucking you right now?”
you blush and he continues. “i want to watch the movie. it’s either my thigh or nothing, sweetheart.”
you walk over hesitantly to straddle his thigh. you feel so exposed since he still has his clothes on.
his veiny hands caress your sides as you start to rock your hips. you can’t help but to hold them, the warmth feeling nice on your cold ones.
matt’s chin rests on your shoulder so he can still watch the movie in front of him. you moan and shudder when you feel the fabric on his jeans hit the right spot on your clit.
the pressure feels so good, your moans growing louder each time you roll your hips.
he slaps your ass, making you yelp and jolt. “shh.” he shushes. “i can’t hear what they’re saying.”
you whine in protest but nod anyway. the voices on the TV are muffled for you. the only focus is you getting off on your boyfriend’s thigh. you’re so needy and can’t help but look pathetic because of it.
“matt.” you whisper in your ear, the warm feeling in your stomach starting to build. “i-i’m gonna cum.”
“no.” he starts. “hold it until the movie’s done. the movie you wanted to watch in the first place.
“please ma—”
he slaps your ass again to shut you up. you moan loudly at the hit; enjoying it.
your hips get faster and start to tense. there’s no way you can hold it for that long.
“n-no matt y-you don’t understand,” you whine, feeling your cum start to drip down his leg.
“it’s… too late.” you pant, slowing down your hips until you stop. he tuts, taking the remote that’s next to him and pressing the replay button on the TV. he grabs your throat with those goddamn hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“i will restart this movie every time you cum without my permission, you understand me?”
matt had to restart the movie three times. every time you whimper an ‘i’m sorry’ into his ear, but it does nothing for him.
you’re sweating and overstimulated, and your pussy is swollen because of it. the inside of your thighs and his pants are soaked with your fluids, even the couch is messy. one of your buttcheeks are red and numb from the numerous times he spanked it.
you moan softly, your brain feeling fuzzy. you grind into his thigh still, but you start to become weak.
he takes the two fingers with no rings on them and shoves them into your mouth without warning. you gag at how deep they went.
“quiet. i want to hear,” he demands again.
you suck on his fingers and roll your eyes back. tear streaks stain your cheeks from the number of times you cried from pleasure.
“matt.” you muffle around his fingers. “it hurts.”
“that doesn’t sound like the safe word, love,” he says as he kisses your cheek.
he’s not wrong. yeah, it hurts, but it hurts too fucking good. you love being under matt’s control, even though something as intense as this is rare.
you start to slobber over his fingers. the feeling comes back, and you're surprised you have an orgasm left. you dig harder into his thigh and let out a sob.
“shh, it’s okay.” he soothes. “there’s only a few minutes left. you can hold it, yeah?”
your vision starts to fade, and matt removes his fingers from your mouth. you can’t moan anymore; only pant and whimper.
you’re not the only one that’s in pleasurable pain. matt’s been hard as fuck since this started, but right now he wants it all about you. not him.
the end credits start to play, and you sigh with relief. your last orgasm immediately washes over you. he wraps his arms around you as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp. “there you go.” he says as you cum for the fourth time on his thigh.
you collapse on top of his chest, ‘thank you’ leaving your lips over and over again.
“come on,” he says, swiftly picking you up and walking to the bathroom.
he runs a hot bath and gently places you in it. he takes some water to wash the tears away on your face.
matt whispers praises to you as he washes your hair. you stare at his face through tired eyes, admiring how he always takes care of you no matter what.
the way he moves his hands around your body to clean you up rubs you the right way.
after the bath, he carries you in a towel and lays you down softly on your shared bed. he goes over to the dresser and grabs a matching pajama set.
he carefully dresses you and puts you under the covers. he tucks you in, kissing your cheek when he realizes you fell asleep.
“goodnight, my beautiful girl,” he whispers in your ear, kissing you one last time.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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