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obae-me · 4 months

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The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers

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inklore · 1 year

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code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses.

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another.

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach.

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days.

A girl can dream.

And she has. Embarrassingly.

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God.

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity.

Gratefulness.

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you?

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings.

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel.

He was always there.

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time.

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before.

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks.

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over.

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped."

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone."

"Hey! I could punch someone."

"Could and would are two different things."

"You sayin I couldn’t?"

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t."

"Not tough enough?"

"Your heart's too big."

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured."

"I’m shaking in my boots."

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn. On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch."

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?"

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel."

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?"

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out.

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red.

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully.

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts.

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll.

"Don’t alert the press."

"Oh, they’ve already been informed."

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky.

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting.

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink.

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight."

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him.

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin.

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money."

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be.

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say.

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had.

Joel Miller was a good man.

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know.

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma.

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind.

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good."

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle.

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke.

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks.

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now.

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?"

"A what—pity kiss?"

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?"

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?"

"Exactly."

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate.

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement.

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks.

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his.

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders.

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one.

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him.

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you.

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers.

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now.

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can.

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth.

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs.

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence.

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked.

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?"

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously." There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken.

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up.

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis.

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes.

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging.

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth.

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center.

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection.

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you."

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are."

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises.

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag.

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back.

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight.

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel.

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock.

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after.

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though."

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully.

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fluff #the last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fic #pedro pascal fics #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction

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simpforboys · 1 year

Text

you’ve bewitched me

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: xavier takes your virginity.

warnings: smut!! loss of virginity, unprotected piv, soft!xavier, he’s a fat simp, fluffy smut, best friends to lovers, oral (f and m receiving), swearing

based on this !!!

the way you couldn’t get out of xavier’s head was driving him insane. he never knew he could need crave someone so bad.

he remembered the moment so vividly.

you two were walking in the rain as he held the umbrella for the both of you. you didn’t remember exactly how the topic came up, but you and your best friend had started talking about sexual experiences.

“a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” xavier joked you rolled your eyes and nudged his shoulder, making the both of you laugh.

“just tell me,” you groaned.

“fine. bianca wanted me to eat her out once. things escalated from there and we ended up fucking.” xavier confessed, keeping his eyes down.

your gasp made him jump. “damn... my best friend gets hella pussy then.” you joked as he sarcastically rolled his eyes, face blushing in embarrassment.

“now what have you done?” xavier asked you.

you pursed your lips together. the sound of the rain falling with leaves crunching filled the silence.

“go on,” xavier said. your silence was making him nervous.

“i’m a uh, a virgin.”

xavier bit the inside of his cheek while nodding at you.

‘thanks for the silence, asshole.” you said jokingly, trying to ignore the way your face felt hot.

xavier was trying to ignore the blood rushing to his pants.

xavier had been in love with you for years. he’d dated other girls to try and get over you, but they never ended up being you.

but ever since your confession, he couldn’t help but want you even more. the amount of nights he’d spent jerking off to a vision of you in his head, the way he would do absolutely anything for you.

xavier was so lost in thought he didn’t even notice his phone dinging. the only thing that snapped him out of his daydreams was a knock on the door to his room.

he opened the door to see you standing there, eyes wide and anxious.

“why haven’t you been answering your phone?” you asked him. you pushed past your best friend as he confusedly shut and locked the door behind you.

“busy thinking. what’s wrong?” he questioned.

“you know that siren boy, kent?”

xavier nodded, eyebrows furrowed tightly together in hesitation.

“he asked me to come to his dorm to do... things.” you said in embarrassment.

xavier bit his tongue so hard he didn’t even realize it was bleeding slightly.

“what things, y/n?”

“he asked me to give him a blow job.” you confessed quietly, sitting on xavier’s bed as his tall frame stood in front of you. he was wearing grey sweatpants with a red shirt on, his hair damp from a shower.

the pang of jealousy that shot through xavier felt almost like a stab in the gut.

“so why are you here then?” xavier asked, trying to keep his cool.

“i need, uh, never mind. it was stupid for me to come here.”

“answer me, y/n.”

“i’m scared, okay? i’ve never done anything like that before and i guess i just wanted... i don’t know... lessons?”

xavier’s heartrate spiked tremendously. oh my god.

“i’m sorry-” you began but xavier cut you off.

“i mean, i can definitely help.”

“really?” you questioned, staring straight up at him. your stomach hurt from anxiety and you swore you’d never noticed how gorgeous your best friend was until he looked at you with such lust in his eyes.

“is this okay?” he whispered, leaning down as his left hand moved to cup your jaw. you nodded against his hand as he kissed you.

you kissed back, the feeling weird. it felt like electricity was connecting your lips together, an addictive feeling. neither of you could get enough of it.

xavier moved to lie you down on the bed, his lips not leaving yours.

your own hands pulled his waist close to you, feeling his hard cock on your thigh. holy fuck, this is happening.

“are you sure you want this?” xavier mumbled against your neck.

“mmm please, yes,” you gasped as you felt him suck a hicky.

he stopped momentarily to remove his shirt. his heart was racing as you also removed yours. he’d never seen you in a bra before and the look of your tits made him start to drool.

the way he stared at you made you feel incredibly nervous and as you tried to cover yourself up, he began sucking hickies along your boobs.

“xavier,” you whimpered. xavier swore that was the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.” xavier told you as his big hands removed your sweatpants and panties.

you undid your bra and suddenly realized how vulnerable and exposed you were. but yet, xavier made you feel safe.

you watched as his head went between your already shaking thighs and sucked teasingly close to your cunt.

“holy fuck!” you accidentally yelped as his tongue came in contact with your clit.

you felt him smirking against your pussy as he ate it like it was his last meal. your back arched as you gripped his hair.

the feeling of having your pussy getting eaten by your best friend was euphoric and you were on cloud 9.

“that feel good, y/n?” xavier hummed.

“so good, please don’t stop,” you begged.

the new pleasure was too much. you were a shuttering mess as he continued to suck your clit, two fingers stretching out your soaking wet pussy.

“i’m already gonna cum-“ you moaned.

“cum for me, y/n.” xavier’s pride was beaming as he watched you squirm for him. he was so fucking hard for you.

your body trembled as your orgasm hit you like a truck. your breathing was heavy and your skin was damp with sweat.

xavier moved to sit back.

“do you still wanna learn about that blowjob?” he asked after you calmed down from your high. you nodded as you got on your knees in front of xavier.

your heart continued to pound. you shakily gripped his hard cock. xavier immediately noticed your nerves.

“what’s wrong?” he questioned, worry written all over his face.

“i don’t really know what i’m doing.” you let out a breathy laugh. xavier smiled from your confession, leaning down to kiss you.

“i’ll help you. start by licking the tip.”

you followed your best friend’s instruction. you began to lightly lick the tip of his leaking cock and felt him shudder against you.

“fuck- now try sucking the head and jerk me off in your hand.”

you brought the head into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks. your right hand began to jerk the base of his cock, feeling xavier’s own hand come up to hold your hair back.

“good girl. holy shit-” xavier whimpered.

the sight laid out in front of you was engraved permanently in your brain. xavier, your best friend, with his head leaned back as you sucked his dick. he looked like a fucking god and you knew there was no going back from this.

you started to gradually suck further down until you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. fighting the gag, you desperately focused on trying to get him to cum in your mouth.

“so, so, so good for me, y/n.”

tears formed in your eyes as you gagged on his cock. hearing xavier whimper your name with praises almost made you cum again.

“i’m so fucking close, if you don’t wanna swallow it then- oh shit.” xavier spurted hot cum into your mouth. the liquid tasted salty but not in a bad way.

now it was xavier’s turn for his breathing to be jagged. you stood back up, your naked body in all its glory. you laid down on his twin size bed, his eyes following yours as you spread your legs.

“please take my virginity, xavier. please.” you begged.

xavier’s whole body was overwhelmed with ecstasy. “i don’t have a condom.” he breathed out, his body now hovering over yours.

“i don’t fucking care- i need you so bad.”

xavier kissed your lips again. you held his hand as he rubbed his tip and down your cunt. “tell me if you need me to stop.”

with that, he slowly pushed in. your pussy was so wet it was almost went in with one motion. he went all the way in slowly, watching your face for any sort of discomfort.

“oh my god-” he whispered. your pussy felt amazing on his hard cock and all he wanted to do was fuck you. but this was about you. and he didn’t want to ruin this intimate moment for you.

“you okay?” he whispered against your neck.

“it feels weird.” you mumbled back. you felt stuffed, yet so needy.

“can you please move?” you asked.

xavier started to slowly move his hips in and out. his hair fell in front of his face.

“fuck-” you moaned.

his hand came down and rubbed circles against your clit. your body felt extremely hot from the overwhelming amount of pleasure it was receiving.

“you feel so good. my good girl, right?” he asked, eyes looking directly into yours.

you nodded quickly. “i’m all yours, xavier.”

he continued to fuck your cunt. the only thing that was heard was the sound of skin slapping skin, both of your moans, and the bed squeaking.

“i’m gonna cum again, xavier.” you announced.

“me too,” he mumbled. the pleasure was becoming too much for him as your pussy clenched against him.

“holy fuck- shit.” your second orgasm overcame your body. xavier kept his finger on your clit, fucking you through your orgasm. when he felt his own, he quickly pulled out and jerked the tip of his cock. warm cum spurted out onto your stomach and his hips bucked against his hand.

he plopped down next to you, both breathing heavily and tired. the temperature of the room was very hot and humid.

after a couple moments of silence, xavier whispered, “i love you, y/n. not in a friend way. i want to be more then friends.”

“i love you too, xavier. i want to be more then friends.”

xavier leaned up on his elbow, looking down happily at your face.

“let me take you out tomorrow?”

“it’s a date.”

xavier and you both smiled as he leaned down and kissed you once again.

“also, fuck kent. i’ll tell him to go fuck himself.”

you laughed at xavier’s attitude.

“if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have been here.” you murmured, drawing circles on xavier’s chest.

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier #xavier thorpe smut #xavier fluff #xavier thorpe x reader #percy hynes white #percy #wednesday #best friends to lovers #xavier thorpe #i want him so bad #simpforboys

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jeon-ify · 27 days

Text

| quit staring - song mingi |

synopsis: it wasn’t the cologne or the grey blazer he put on this evening before the show, nor was it the slight gloss in his lips that made you fall into a craze for the entire night. it was the way his blazer was unbuttoned with nothing underneath. it was the way his chest was so plump with pretty muscles, the crevices and slight contours in his collarbones that made you weak in the knees— weak between your thighs.

warnings: sexting, dom!mingi, sub!bratty reader, reader starts staring hella hard at mingi, degradation (slut, whore, bitch), orgasm denial, fingering, car sex (slight), swearing, if i missed anything, you know what to do!

there mingi was; stood over you, reaching to grab something on either side of you. the quick scent of his fresh cotton and sandalwood scent sends a rush through your nostrils, as well as the body oil he’d rubbed on his chest. he knew what he was doing tonight— using your favorite products to get you into bed all over him later.

he leans over to whisper something in your ear that you almost didn’t catch, but you force yourself to understand for the good of the group. “keep staring at me with your jaw on the floor so people won’t think something of it,”

you didn’t realize how hard you’ve been staring, but mingi felt your eyes burning holes through his torso all evening. you can’t help it when all you can think of is his hands around your throat while you ride him all through the night.

“i wasn’t staring. and you smell good so its hard not to look,” you whisper back. departing with a smirk, he takes his assigned seat across from you. your thighs nearly clench on their own, unaware of your surroundings.

the conversations and soft music continues to flood the room, as your thoughts continue to flood your brain and trying to control yourself becomes harder by the minute.

you finally decide to make a move on your boyfriend because it can’t keep going on like this. at this rate, if you stand up someone will find a patch of your juices on the chair and a wet stain on the back of your dress.

you turn on your phone and look to your left and right, making sure no one is looking at what you’re about to send.

to: my man

please

i need to go home

my man:

Stop staring at me

No im jp

Whats up? Talk to me

to: my man

i want you inside of me

like all the way inside pls

want u to bend me in half and fuck me

knock my lights out im so fr

with the last of your foul messages to mingi, he looks around and glances at you, smirking before shooting his next few texts.

my man:

Yeah? Do i look that good?

Think u deserve a good pounding from how you controlled yourself all night

Dont u think?

your thighs clench and your heart drops to your ass at the texts mingi just typed back to you, your cheeks turning a flushed berry red, and your nose becoming shiny from the thin layer of sweat hugging your skin.

to: my man

my god mingi

pls lets go home come up with a shitty excuse

say that ur brother just called

say he needs a ride somewhere

my man:

Needy girl

Okay. I’ll let hwa know.

Can u start my car? My keys are in ur purse

*seen*

your hands fidget with your purse on autopilot, rushing to remote start his car. you cannot wait to get home— the feeling is building up and you hope it’s mutual just so you’d get the fucking of your life tonight. you see mingi talking to seonghwa about wanting to go home and somehow it works. whatever he says makes seonghwa look worried for a second, but mingi ends up fleeing in faux worry. you get up and greet everyone with mingi behind you, watching everyone say their good lucks to mingi. hiding a laugh in your throat, you walk out of the door and hurry to the passenger seat of your boyfriends car. mingi follows suit, sighing the moment he closes his door.

“what’d you tell him that made him look so worried?” you begin.

“i told him my brother got sick and i had to drive him to the hospital. i don’t even have a brother,”

“as long as it worked. now let’s go home please, mingi.” the car doesnt move, mingi’s tongue pokes through his cheek as he smirks at you, watching the way your thighs clench and your breathing picks up. he breathes out a small chuckle, almost mocking your neediness. “you just can’t wait, can you?”

“no, baby. i can’t, i’ve waited all day.” your breath hitches in your throat when mingi’s long fingers graze through your inner thighs and up your skirt. he tips his head up to face you, planting a kiss on your chin. he moves his fingers up, pushing your panties to the side and sliding a finger between your folds. he rubs up and down, eliciting a couple gasps and moans from you.

“this what you wanted, y/n?” he stares lasers into your face, distracting you from his thick index and middle fingers plunging into your sopping hole. he curls them, pulling the strings of your orgasm and threatening to ruin his expensive custom leathered seats. “oh my g- slow down! i can’t—“ his fingers move at an ungodly pace, making you oh so overwhelmed with how powerful your orgasm is about to be from his fingers alone. when he doesn��t get the response he anticipates, he lands a harsh slap on your clit making you yell.

“that wasn’t my question. is this what you wanted so bad in front of my friends? what if someone saw the dirty texts you were sending me, hm? would you want that?”

just when you’re about to cum, mingi snatches his fingers out of you, pressing the brake and shifting gears to begin driving home. “if you complain about not cumming, you’ll never see the end of it, am i clear?”

“yes,” you breathe out, fixing your panties and trying to calm yourself to the best of your abilities.

the ride becomes slower and more dreadful, waiting to get home to finally reach an orgasm.

after what feels like hours, you arrive home and rush up the stairs to your bedroom, quickly undressing, waiting for mingi to see you ready for him. you hear his footsteps walking up the stairs, inching closer to the bedroom. he locks the door behind him as if anyone were to walk in.

“if you weren’t my girl, i’d think you were a whore. take your bra off.” the words mingi says to you never fail to make you feel like the smallest of the small, and never fail to make your panties wet. you almost drool on yourself, feeling how his sharp cat-like eyes watch your body move and your tits bounce with the moves you make. he undresses himself and hovers over you, grabbing your leg and putting it over his torso. he plants kisses on your neck, up to your jaw and beginning a hot makeout. your tongue explores every inch of his mouth, sucking and breathing in his venom.

“fuck, mingi. please do something.” he continues to grind over your heat, rubbing against your black laced panties. your wet cunt is visible to him through the lace, making his breath pick up. he leans down to suck a generous amount of skin on your right nipple, making your back arch upwards. he sucks and sucks like his life depended on it, blowing on the spot and sending chills through your chest.

“yeah? want me to be rough with you? think you deserve a good pounding after what you did to me at dinner today?” he brings his fingers down to your clit, rubbing quickly before unnoticingly pushing his fat cock into your hole. you try to answer him by apologizing, but you need a moment to adjust to his size.

“fuck! fuck!” you scream out as he straightens himself upwards and has your legs on his shoulders. he pounds into you quicker, not giving you a moment to relax. it’s skin on skin and it’s raw. his tip is kissing your cervix, making your thighs shake on his chest.

“there you go, pounding you like the good bitch you are. gonna knock you up, yeah? wanna walk around with my babies in you?”

beads of sweat begin to form on the base of his chest and the corners of his forehead, making you clench around him. he feels your orgasm approaching, making him slow his thrusts just to bother you.

this fucker.

“faster, mings.” you moan and cry in hopes that he’ll let you cum, but…

“you’re not cumming yet. i’m cumming first tonight, i deserve it.”

“i can’t hold it mingi please please please!” his pace quickens at an ungodly speed, making you fall silent and mingi groaning and whimpering at the feeling. your stomach clenches and mingi continues his abuse on your pussy.

“fuck, oh my god, baby. should have a gangbang from how good this pussy is. wanna share my bitch with my crew, yeah?” he leans down and lands a slap on the right side of your face, making your eyebrows furrow and your lips out from how fucking good your boyfriend is pounding you. the thought of a gangbang makes your pussy clench again around him, making his eyes darker and his chest heave.

“what a whore. wanna fuck my friends and show off what’s mine? you’re not even ashamed?” he grabs your jaw and makes you look into his eyes.

“n-no, just w-want you to fuck me. i live for you, i’m yours to use.”

“good girl, finally your brain works,” his cock throbs in your heat as his thrusts become shallow and slower. your eyes roll back as you try to hold your orgasm again.

“can i cum? please please please can i cum?” you beg, holding his hand and begging for a release.

“cream on my cock, pretty. let me feel you.”

“th-thank you! fuckkk,” it feels like you’re floating when your orgasm finally reaches and you let all go. mingi stops while he’s still in you, waiting for you to calm down before he shoots his load into you.

“gonna take a picture of my cum in you and send it to the groupchat. how’s that sound?”

—————————————————————————————

#kpop smut #ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san #mingi ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #song mingi #song mingi x y/n

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curtsycream · 2 months

Note

Heyyyy it's me again

Okay so

Poly141 (all dating each other) where they're all like. Lounging in the living room, watching a movie or something. Reader is upstairs in the bathroom (she made an excuse to get away), looking at herself too much in the mirror. She tries to hide she's insecure, but Johnny comes upstairs to find her, and he sees her staring and grabbing her stomach. He watches for a second but when he sees her tearing up, he walks in, picks her up, and takes her to the guys downstairs. He makes her explain to them what he saw, and it turns into fluffy smut? Like the guys are over here like "?????? stfu before i put my baby in you 🙄" and it's gets a little rough, but still fluffy?

Idk it's hella self-indulgent, but no pressure if you don't wanna write it :)

Beautiful Woman

Poly!TF141 x F!Reader

Heyyyyy, how ya doing? I would never turn down a request like this. I hope you like it lovely <33

warnings: not proofread to the highest tier, Soap’s accent is thick (I apologize couldn’t help it), body insecurities, a bit of dysmorphia if you read into it, penetration (p in v), oral (f receiving), idk

Movie nights were always her favorite as she leaned her head on Soap’s shoulder. Her fingers entwined with Ghost’s as they watched Grownups. The movie selection was Gaz’s as he seemed to find the movie pure comedy gold. He felt the same about Mall Cop, something Price could partially agree with.

Laughter from Soap and Gaz filled the room along with Ghost’s random commentary. She was enjoying herself but that gut wrenching feeling was there. Where it felt as if all eyes were on her. She knew it wasn’t that way but her mind made it hard to think clearly. At first she simply wrapped her free arm around her stomach. But it wasn’t enough she knew they weren’t but in her mind they were laughing at her. It was nauseating, standing up abruptly she let a half-baked excuse leave her lips. “Need to use the bathroom,” she told them when they looked to her.

They didn’t notice anything off until she went upstairs. There was a perfectly fine bathroom downstairs but she didn’t go to it. Sharing a look they took a moment to write it off. They didn’t want to cause any alarm when she probably forgot.

The bathroom door slammed close, her eyes focused on her reflection in the mirror. Many times have they assured her that they loved the way she looked. But insecurities like that never went away at the drop of a hat. Raising her shirt she turns to the side looking at her side profile. The way her stomach looked bothered her, her finger tracing over a stretch mark.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at herself head on. Sucking in her stomach she runs a hand over her stomach. Even as she did it she felt inferior in a way. Compared to women from their pasts she wasn’t like them. She wasn’t thin or shaped like a coke bottle, she didn’t feel like their type.

It was a silly concept to focus on the women they dated and determine the kind of women they like. She knew it was but for some reason as her eyes stare at stomach she assumed this was a joke. That she didn’t deserve them because she didn’t fit the standard of the women they didn’t stay with.

Squishing her stomach she sniffled just as the bathroom door opened. He went unnoticed until he stepped forward when seeing how her bottom lip trembled. His eyes on her hands as they squish her stomach. It was clear what was going on as he pulls her against him. His finger rests under her chin as he lifts her head to look at him.

“Whit urr ye daein'?”

His voice was a blanket of warmth over her as he spoke to her. “I—“ she began before stopping.

“Ye?”

It was evident that he wasn’t going to let this go, that was reasonable. Shaking her head she uses her hands to dry her eyes. “I don’t deserve you guys, I’m just..look at me.”

“Shut th' hell up, afore ah pat a baby in ye tae prove it..”

“I’m serious Johnny, no matter what I do I always feel so goddamn inferior to the women you’ve dated. Do you even love me or am I just a spur of the moment decision.”

Her words cut him deep leaving him with a hurt look on his face. He didn’t say anything he just looked at her, it was worrying. But before she could ask him about it he picked her up. Wide eyed she let him carry her as if she weighed nothing to him. Not a single grunt or groan left him to indicate that he was struggling.

When he put her down she landed on the couch in a seated position. All eyes were on her a feeling she hated especially now.

“Tell thaim,” he said pointing to the other three men. Their attention no longer on the movie that was now paused.

Fiddling with her fingers she shrugged looking down, “I don’t deserve you guys…you could have anybody and you pick me. I know I sound a bit childish but that’s how I feel, I don’t compare to the women you’ve dated. I don’t even feel comfortable in my skin, I feel too big.”

“Dated? past tense, there are reasons we aren’t dating those women anymore. Just like there’s a reason we’re with you,” Gaz said his tone just as serious as his expression. She wasn’t used to such a look on his face where a smile usually lived.

Opening her mouth to speak she was cut off by Price. The older man had a similar expression on his face, “you deserve more than you’ll admit. You’re perfect for us trust me if we didn’t love everything about you we wouldn’t be with you, darlin’”

“Stop selling yourself short, if I had the option of anyone I would still pick you. There’s no question about it, lovie.”

The tears that were brimming her eyes soon fell. She couldn’t hold it in anymore as she cried from their words. She was pulled into a chest realizing it was Ghost from the smell of kohl and steel. Even when they were away from work he always managed to smell that way. “How would you know, you can’t prove that?” She asked her voice muffled by his shirt.

“Ye'r perfect fur us, we kin aye prove that,” Soap let out.

A surge of desire coursed through Soap’s body as he watched Gaz’s skilled and intimate ministrations. The way Gaz’s tongue danced across her delicate folds, eliciting moans of pleasure from their girl, sent a jolt of arousal straight to Soap’s core.

He couldn't tear his eyes away as Gaz’s tongue worked its magic, exploring every inch of her pussy. The vulnerability displayed by her, the trust placed in their hands, it all fascinated him.

Swallowing hard, she gripped Price’s hand as his lips were attached to one of her breasts. His kisses were enough to melt her to the core. She kept her eyes open as she looked over at Ghost who was stroking his cock as he watched. He was anticipating his turn to show her just how important she was to them. Licking her lips she moans when Price’s fingers rub her clit. She wasn’t prepared for the assisted pleasure her mind reeling at the feeling of Price’s fingers and Gaz’s tongue.

“Ye keek sae bonny lik' this, lass,” Soap’s words cut through the thick layer of lust and need. Her eyes on him as he moves closer his lips slamming onto hers. The kiss was quick pace as if he was putting all of his love into it.

Her thighs squeezed around Gaz’s head as she panted into Soap’s mouth. Her body trembling as she felt close, a sign they all were familiar with. “Look at that wanna cum so bad, wanna make a mess on Kyle’s tongue huh, darlin’?”

All that left her was a moan into Soap’s mouth at Price’s words. His fingers were pulling at her nipples as she came. Her fingers gripping Gaz’s hair as she moaned loudly into Soap’s mouth. He didn’t relent as he seemed to swallow all of her moans.

When Gaz pulled away so did Soap allowing her to see the man lick his lips clean. A smile on his face as he sat up caressing her inner thigh, “still tasting good I see.”

His words left her a mess almost as much as Ghost was about to leave her. She knew the moment Gaz stepped away what was going to happen. Her eyes found Ghost as he made his way between her legs. His large hands gripping her thighs parting her legs a bit more. The sound of kissing faint as Soap tasted her off of Gaz’s lips.

“You’re so pretty, lovie,” Ghost’s words distracted her from him entering her. A moan leaving her lips as she felt him slowly sink into her. “Always so fuckin’ tight too,” he praised.

His words and actions left her feeling fuzzy inside. Just as she thought that would be enough she felt kisses trailing down her stomach. “Love everything about you, darlin’. Look at how pretty you are taking Simon’s cock. Making him feel so good,” his words rang loud in her ears. “Tell me how pretty you are, we wanna hear you darlin’.”

She was used to their reassurance and love but it always felt different when they were intimate. It seemed to cement just how much they truly meant what they said. How they showed her body love in the most intimate of ways. “I’m very pretty,” she choked out when Price left a hickey on her thigh.

As Ghost’s speed picked up he caged her between his arms. His face dropping to the crook of her neck, his breath fanning her skin. “Gonna put a baby in you, let you carry around proof that we love you.”

Shuddering she whimpered at his words while he thrusted ruthlessly into her. It wasn’t long until she was clamping around his cock. Her eyes fluttering shut when she came around him. In return he gasps sharply as her pussy milks him for all that he has.

It served as a reminder even after they cleaned up. She stood in front of the mirror again after the shared shower between them. Behind her stood Price whose hands were on her bare hips. “Look at you, the prettiest woman there is.” He would whisper in her ear as he left kisses along her shoulder. “Regardless of how you feel about yourself I promise you that we aren’t thinking those same bad things you are. You look sexy and it’s okay to not be what you think you should be. We love how you look, darlin’.”

Nodding her head she tears up watching him leave kisses on her skin in the mirror. It was reassuring in ways she had never experienced before. With them she knew she would be loved, they would always make that clear to her.

Soap peeked his head into the bathroom with squinted eyes, “Ye let Si pump a baby intae ye afore ah cuid? ah wis th' yin wha said it first” he tells her.

A laugh left her lips as she listens to him, “I’m sorry,” said said to him. Shaking his head he holds his hand out, “Na sorry, wur aboot tae dae that now.”

Translations again I want to thank my friend who was able to tell me how to write Soap’s words properly. He’s a real one <33 For words like baby, first, maybe a few more I changed them because my keyboard hates the word bairn for some reason.

Whit urr ye daein'? - What are you doing?

Ye? - You?

Shut th' hell up, afore ah pat a baby in ye tae prove it. - Shut the hell up, before I put a baby in you to prove it

Tell thaim - Tell them

Ye'r perfect fur us, we kin aye prove that - You’re perfect for us, we can always prove that

Ye keek sae bonny lik' this, lass - You look so beautiful like this, girl

Ye let Si pump a baby intae ye afore ah cuid? ah wis th' yin wha said it first - You let Si pump a baby into you before I could? I was the one who said it first.

Na sorry, wur aboot tae dae that now. - No sorry, we’re about to do that now

#x reader #poly!reader #fluff #poly fanfic #poly!cod #poly!tf141 #cod smut #cod angst #cod 141 #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #john price smut #soap smut #gaz smut

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theveesbf · 1 month

Text

The Vees X Reader using the silent treatment

︴Notes - Hey everyone!! This was an idea that a friend of mine gave me, and I needed to write because she was beginning to like the Vees so like 😁😁 anyways I hope y'all enjoy it!

︴Content - Headcanons of Vox, Velvette and Valentino X Reader who used the silence treatment after a fight.

Vox doesn't like to have the feeling his the wrong one, so after fighting with you he expects you to be the one reaching out to him.

But you just don't.

Vox waits for you the whole day, and you never show up to even say a good morning!

When he finds you watching TV, he goes to talk to you, but the fact that you ignore him makes Vox freeze.

I mean, he was never really ignored, and the fact you, as his partner, did this was like denying candy to a spoiled child.

He spent a whole 10 minutes trying to talk to you and no matter what he said you didn't even looked at his face for a single moment.

Vox was almost losing his sanity as he decided to say the one thing he knew was going to destroy his ego.

He remembered that earlier that day you asked Vox to go out with you, but he told you he was busy.

Obviously you said that he was always working and that 10 minutes wouldn't make his business go down.

He just ignored you and continued working, without even saying no again.

Knowing what happened he decided to apologize to you.

"Listen uh, I'm... I'm sorry okay? I should've considered your feelings more."

The moment he finished saying you turned around to look at him with a smile.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it? But I forgive you Vox. "

That's how Vox never ignored you anymore without a good reason.

Velvette sometimes doesn't even notice that what she says can hurt people.

And that includes you. She wasn't really used to dating someone and this made her be a bit insensitive sometimes.

Velvette never pays attention to what she says until she went to talk to you and you just, ignored her.

She was so confused, she thought you didn't heard what she said.

But when she already repeated the same thing 5 times, Velvette knows you're doing it on purpose.

And she has no fucking idea on why!

That fact already makes her stressed all day because you never even glanced at her.

So she tried to remember everything that happened all day that could've made you like that.

That's when Velvette remembered that she told you how your outfit didn't match at all and it was really ugly. And she didn't saw how sad you got when she said that.

"Hey honey, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't noticed that what I said was hurtful."

Velvette is definetly the one who tries the best to apologize to you, even if it hurts a bit inside lmao.

You wanted no time on hugging her when she finished it.

"I forgive you Vel, just try to watch your words better 'kay?"

Velvette only laughed it off, and every time you ignored her, she knew that she had to try harder on thinking before speaking.

Valentino can have a hard time respecting people's boundaries, and even if he tries his best with you, it's still... In progress.

Especially with how easily angry he gets. Valentino can't take a no without getting annoyed.

Of course, with you it's better, he actually tries to be a good partner for you.

But sometimes he let his emotions take over him, which leads to situations like this.

Valentino was going to kiss you and be all clingy to you, but he was hella confused when you walked past him.

He quickly walked to your direction to ask you what happened but you never took your eyes off the cellphone.

Even when he grabbed it off your hand, you just kept walking. And that made him both confused and mad.

He tried a lot of things but you never talked to him, until he remembered what had happened earlier.

Val was stressed and that made him yell at you when you got inside his studio without asking him first.

He never says sorry, so apologising to you was a bit awkward.

"Amorcito, please don't be mad at me. I was just stressed, you didn't asked me to go there. Can you forgive me Amor?"

His apology was definetly a bit weird but you knew that's just how he was, and you kissed him before answering.

"Of course Val, just try to be more patient next time."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin #the vees x reader #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #vox x reader #the vees #valentino #vox #velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vox #valentino hazbin hotel

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judebelle · 5 months

Note

gavi having intense back pain after all the matches he has to play and trying to hide how exhausted he is from reader and trying his best to put efforts in the relationship so he doesn’t hurt reader but reader realising and trying to comfort him both physically and mentally just a lot of fluff thank youuuu

you’re right - p.g. x reader

a/n : you guys are rlly sending in hella gavi reqs! 😭 but dw i will try to do as many as i can but i write for more players so pls don’t be shy to send a request! all the players i write for are in my pinned post or masterlist!

cw : miscommunication, fluffy asffff

pairing : pablo gavi x reader

wc : 1.1k

---

the front door creaked open and your head perked up from the sofa. your boyfriend was home from his latest match. it wasn’t an important one so you stayed home and watched it on the tv.

barcelona won, and you had been waiting for him to come home. a smile spread across your face upon pablo’s return, but it fell when you saw his hunch and eyebrows knitted together in discomfort.

“hey baby.” he grunted out as he dropped his bag on the ground, kicked off his shoes, and tossed his keys onto the table near the door.

he walked slowly to you, trying to straighten his apparent hunch.

“what’s wrong, pablo? are you feeling okay?”

he finally made eye contact with you, his eyebrows softening at your concerned expression. “i’m feeling better than ever.” he smiled at you softly before approaching you on the couch.

you were genuinely concerned about his well-being since he was starting so many matches recently, but you let it go. if pablo was anything, he was dramatic. if he was hurt you would definitely know.

he shifted to sit next to your legs on the couch. he lowered himself with a pained grunt. that’s what concerned you. he sounded like he was fifty-six and had serious arthritis.

“oh my god- pablo..”

he sat himself down on the couch with a sigh, turning to you with a smile. “i missed you, y/n.”

he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

“are you certain you’re okay? you look like you’re in pai-“

“don’t worry about me, okay, darling?” ignoring the question, he stretched his arm across your shoulders and diverted his attention to the tv in front of you.

you let it go again. he’s smart enough to know when something is wrong with him and not leave it in the air.

you thought.

---

you both fell asleep on the couch watching whatever was on.

you woke up to the smell of popcorn and some bottles opening. squinting, you looked over into the bright kitchen. he had made a bowl of popcorn and was carrying drinks with him. he only had two hands, of course, but had wedged the drinks in the crease of his elbows, holding them to his side.

his tongue was stuck out slightly as he focused on not dropping anything. you giggled at his effort to not take two trips.

“what? work smarter, not harder” he joked as you made room for him on the couch.

he sat next to you and placed the food on the table in front of the couch. “why are you doing this, pablo? we need to eat dinner! and what about your diet? what- mmm!-“

he shut you up with a kiss.

“just wanted to spoil my favourite girl..”

he smiled and kissed you again, his hands raking into your hair. “i feel like there’s a catch.. you’re gonna do something ba- STOP”

pablo had completely switched up and started tickling you. he knelt and trapped you between his legs. he started tickling and pinching your sides. you couldn’t help but laugh, of course.

you were laughing so hard that it hurt. “pablo stop! serious- seriously stop it- ah!-“

he was also laughing as he continued annoying you, pinning you down with the weight of his body alone. you opened your eyes and saw him looking down at your waist, his hands still attacking your sides.

you twisted to the side in discomfort as he proceeded to tickle you. when you twisted, his body froze. he let out a groan and hissed as his back was caught in a weird position.

he stopped tickling you to fix his posture.

you took that opportunity to catch your breath before sitting up.

“pablo, what’s wrong? you look like you’ve been in pain all day! i’m seriously getting concerned.”

he looked up at you sheepishly. “nothings wrong, mi amor. i promise i’m fine, argh-“

he grunted as he tried to sit down, his hand flying to his back. he pressed down and gritted his teeth.

“okay, that’s enough. lay down.”

you got up from the couch and pointed to it, your expression stern.

“y/n, i’m fi-“

“lay. down.”

he bit his lip in defeat and lowered his body slowly onto the couch, stomach down. he rested his head on his hands and turned his head to the side to look at you.

“what happened, pablo?” you straddled his lower back and pulled up his thin shirt so you could see his back.

there were no visible injuries, but you could tell that he was tense and in pain.

“just… just tired. there’s so many matches and- ohh..”

pablo let out a long moan as you pushed your hands gently down onto his sore back. you moved your hands up and down the middle of his back, applying some pressure.

“my god! you’re so tense, baby..” you continued rubbing his back, listening to his groans and hisses. “this isn’t healthy. you need to talk to your coach.”

“i’m fine.. it’s just, a lot right now. once i get back into the groove of things- mmpgh, oh god-“

every time you pressed into one specific part of his mid back, he wouldn’t shut up. “does it hurt here?” you whispered, and he nodded against the fabric of the couch.

you smiled softly and continued kneading at his muscles. he hummed softly, his hums gradually getting less and less frequent as you continued massaging him. “does that feel better?”

he grinned into the couch and turned his head back to look at you. “so much better. thank you, mi amor.” he placed a grateful kiss on your lips and you giggled against his.

after pulling his shirt back down, you laid down on his back and wrapped your arms around him from under his armpits. “glad i could make you feel better, but you need to take a rest day, pablo.”

you reminded him sternly, and he looked down at the couch in defeat. “i think so too. i just don’t want to let the team down.”

your eyes widened at his words. this stubborn man was agreeing to what you were saying? pigs must be flying. and let the team down? he’s done everything but that.

“pablo, if you think you’re going to let the team down, you’re stupid. you’ve done nothing but help barcelona excel and you’re a huge asset to the squad. don’t beat yourself up over this.”

he sighed under you before turning to kiss your hand that was near his face. he smiled softly against your hand before whispering out.

“you’re right.”

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her-satanic-wiles · 7 months

Text

October 1st

Pegging, Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.2k.

Warnings: Pegging; established relationship; praise kink; anal fingering (m receiving); anal sex (m receiving); fellatio; use of sex toys; sub!Copia; soft dom!Reader (but you’re still a little mean to him); gender neutral!reader (but reader does have a vulva); mild humiliation kink; hella fluffy because Copia deserves the world; premature ejaculation; overstimulation; tears; happy ending.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It didn’t take much to get him all worked up. Depending on the kind of day he’d had, it could just even be a look that got Copia ready and waiting for you to do whatever you wanted. He was an easy mother fucker, especially for the right mother - or rather - person.

Which is how he ended up spread-eagle on his bed, one of his pillows in his mouth as your fingers went deep inside his tight hole. His cock was rock hard and bounced a little every time you touched a sensitive spot and made his hips buck. Although his eyes remained tightly closed and that was something you couldn’t abide by. Not only was he keeping his desperate whimpers to a minimum, he refused to let you see the needy look on his face. You tutted and removed your fingers from him.

Immediately, his lids opened in terror and his gaze snapped to you. “No! Per favore! Don’t stop, ti scongiuro!” In his need, he sat up and began peppering kisses all over your face. “Amore mio, per favore non fermarti. I need more, please.”

“But your eyes were closed, baby.” You responded, your tone somewhat condescending especially for a man twice your age. “You were quiet. I didn’t think you were enjoying it.”

His kisses became more ferocious but his hands were clinging onto your neck. “Non è vero! It’s not true. I love it. Ti amo. Please, dolcezza. Please give me more.” This was so far from the Papa you’d grown to know - this was exactly how the Cardinal acted. Touch starved and desperate. Yet here was the head of the Satanic Church fumbling his words and begging for release.

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. While he was still sat up a little, you moved your hand sneakily towards his hole and began rubbing over it once more. This earned you a loud yet surprised moan. With a little extra lube, you slid a third finger in and felt one of his hands clasp your forearm. He wasn’t whimpering as much, but he was breathing heavily, as though he were trying to stave off an impending orgasm.

Taunting your Papa was the most fun thing to do, especially when he was all spread out in front of you at your complete and total mercy. He didn’t expect anything from you, especially when you were knuckle deep inside of him. So when you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cock from base to tip, he screamed and bucked again. “Merda.” He whined. “What are you try-trying to do to your Papa? Do you want to kill me, dolcezza?”

You chuckled a small, evil laugh before responding. “Of course not, Papa. But when you look so deliciously tempting, I can’t help myself.” Finding that spot inside of him now that you had three fingers working at him was easy. Combine that with what your mouth was doing and he was convinced he was going to have a heart attack. Your mouth, now quiet had taken the entire head of his cock into your mouth, and was gently sucking on it.

“Amore mio, if you keep doing this Papa will not last.”

You removed your lips from him and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You don’t want to cum?”

“I do!”

“In my mouth?”

He shook his head so you stopped moving your fingers. “NO!” He replied when he realised what you were doing. You continued your ministrations, rewarding him for his words.

“On my fingers?”

“No, dolcezza, please.”

“Well, where would you like to cum, Papa?” Calling him Papa while he was submitting to you felt criminal. Papa was for the strongest of leaders, Papa was for the leaders who bent others into submission. Papa wasn’t for the shy, clumsy and awkward men who willingly spread themselves for their partners. But here yours was - ready, willing, waiting, and humiliated beyond satisfaction.

“Non farmi dire questo.” His hands now were covering his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t make you feel good if you don’t tell me where you want to cum.”

He muffled something only his hands caught. So you gently prized them apart gently with your free hand to see his bright red face, and his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. “Tell me, my love. Where do you want to cum?”

He took in a deep breath. “On your cock!” He exclaimed quickly.

“Good boy.” Your praise affected him more than he would like to say, but his hole clenched around your fingers as it registered in his brain. “Do you think you’re ready for it?”

“Sì.”

You kissed his lips softly before pulling your fingers out of him. He whined into your mouth at the lost of you, and as you tried to break the kiss he kept following you. He was clingier than usual. “I won’t go far, precious. I promise.” You said when your lips were finally free.

He chased you to the edge of the bed and watched you strap yourself into the harness. His hands were aching to get hold of you again, but knew he needed to be patient for you. You went to the bedside drawer and pulled out one of the dildos you’d both selected online months prior, and his eyes were completely fixated on it as you attached it to the harness. It wasn’t overwhelmingly big, but big enough that it would stretch him out more than your fingers would.

Knowing how clingy he was feeling, you went straight back to him and immediately wrapped him in your arms, his head falling on your chest. His hands gripped your waist tightly as he took in your scent. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He said.

“Do you think you can lube it up for me?” He nodded and leaned across to the bedside table to grab the lube and poured some onto the toy. “Make sure you get it nice and wet for me, yeah?”

He nodded again. Both of you were transfixed by his hand touching the dildo, wrapping around it and spreading the lube up and down as though he were stroking a real cock. You were both silent as you listened to the squelching of the liquid in between his hands as he rubbed, losing his mind to the thought of it finally entering him. As soon as he thought it was ready, he nodded and lay back eagerly. His legs spread once again, and you watched him deposit the leftover lubricant into his waiting and stretched hole. You waited until his hand was removed before you climbed over him.

You kissed his sensitive neck, and travelled all the way up to his mouth, where you gave him a deep and gentle kiss - another touch that made him whimper. He bucked up one final time, and groaned at the feeling of his cock rubbing against yours.

“I’m ready, amore mio. Per favore. I need it.”

You lined yourself up with his waiting hole. “Tell me when you need to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

As you breached his walls, his mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape, his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. You were slow with your movements, almost maddeningly so, and his hands flew to your biceps and gripped tightly. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, a lot more loudly than he intended.

You stopped. “Are you okay?”

He could barely breathe. “It feels incredible.” He propped himself up enough to reach your cheeks and began kissing you again. “More. More, please.”

You obliged and continued to push into him until the dildo was all the way inside him. He kept kissing you as you paused, waiting for him to get accustomed to the feeling. He, on the other hand, had different ideas. As he was kissing you, he also began to slowly rock up and down, feeling your cock move inside of him. “I take it you want me to move, hm?”

“Please!” He begged.

And so, you did. Gently at first so you didn’t hurt him, but as his moans became louder, you understood he was ready for a bit more handling. So, your thrusts got faster and faster.

Until you watched him spasm beneath you, his breath knocked out of him and his mouth wide open. You looked between you to where you were connected, and watched as the remains of his seed spilled out of him. Much faster than both of you had hoped, but he was so worked up you were surprised he lasted that long.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated that over and over again, tears forming in his eyes from his overwhelming emotions.

You were still inside him. “Can you give me one more, Copia?”

He seemed shocked at the sudden use of his name. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, amore mio. I can give you one more.”

“Good boy.”

He keened at your praise but hissed when you pulled out. You were gentle, tentative, but you wanted to wreck him a little more. So, when you were sure he could take it, you didn’t hold back.

His grip on your arm returned but this time much harder, fingernails digging in and holding on for dear life. Your thrusts were almost brutal, but you knew he was living for it. Each one punctuated with his sounds - whether they were outright overstimulated screams, chokes, or even the sound of his hole sucking the toy back in. He was practically singing. Your moans would occasionally join the cacophony of sounds, not because you were feeling particularly good, but because you knew he appreciated them.

You stopped once more to pull out and hear his groans of disappointment. “I want you to ride me,” you told him, “let me see you take my cock.”

Copia gulped but nodded. He had never allowed himself to be so exposed before, and he certainly had never been the top in this position. He felt himself getting shy again, and if it wasn’t you he wouldn’t even attempt it. With a hiss, he climbed onto you and lowered himself down. His cock was red and angry, and dried cum stained his stomach from his first orgasm and had been forgotten about until just then. He looked positively sinful, sweaty and blushing red.

In order to help him find a rhythm, you held onto his hands and pinned your elbows to the bed, giving him the leverage he needed to work his hips over the dildo, expletives in Italian being mumbled in between his whimpers. Once he found a rhythm and forgot how exposed he was, he let your hands go and began bouncing on his own, using you to get himself off. Your hands were now free, and one clutched onto his bouncing cock and begin to stroke it.

“Tell me how you feel, Papa.”

“Si se-sente bene.”

“Bene?” Your voice was back to condescending. “Only bene? Poor Papa, struggling to pull a decent sentence together.”

“I-”

“You’re so tight and desperate for cock, aren’t you, Papa?” He nodded emphatically. “Do you feel good riding me like this? Taking me for your own pleasure?”

“Dolcezza, per favore!”

“What, Papa? What do you want?”

“I need more.”

“More what?”

“Y-your hand… please.” You stopped stroking his cock. “No! You can’t do this - your - Your hand, stroke my cock, please!” Your hand gripped him again. “Tighter, please.” You obliged now that he was using his words. “Merda! F-feels good. So good. I can’t stop.” He was riding you harder now, his own words egging him on and sending him closer and closer to the edge.

“Do you want to cum, Papa?”

“Sì.”

“Cum for me, Papa. Cum all over me.”

Sure enough, his second orgasm spilled from him. His hips twitched erratically as he covered you in his seed, gasping for air as though he was suffocating. He couldn’t make any noise even if he wanted to - he couldn’t even hear you talking him through it. All he could feel was your tight hand wrapped around his sensitivity and still pumping him until he was completely spent. Not to mention the dildo still in his hole, keeping still while he wiggled and providing him with aftershocks that could bring his sanity crumbling down. He collapsed onto you, completely unable to move himself, and it fell upon you to make him come back to reality.

You stroked his hair and kept talking him through it, waiting until his ears stopped ringing enough to listen to your instructions. Eventually, he came to, and lay on his side after he’d painfully dragged himself off of you and waited for you to remove the harness and come back.

His eyes were closed from exhaustion and he jumped in surprise when he felt your hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry, I have to clean you up.”

“Va bene. Grazie, amore mio.” His voice was weak, but there was a lazy smile on his face.

As soon as you were finished, you came back to bed and wrapped him in your arms. “You were so good for me, Copia.”

He moved his head level to you. “You’re always good to me.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

#mel writes #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #copia #ghost the band #ghost fanfiction #copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #kinktober 2023

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msgexymunson · 1 year

Text

Rumour Part 6: Rite

Description: Significant changes are happening, what with you moving in with Eddie, and his band taking off. But, are you both headed in the same direction?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI you should know that by this point, Tiny angst, hella fluff, major smut, sub!fem!reader x dom!older!Eddie, spanking, slight anal play, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks!) established relationship

A/N: This was a challenge, I really hope I've given them a good send off. Thank you to everyone who has supported me, I'm really going through it right now so this was hard, but worth it! I hope you enjoy this Eddie as much as I do. Comments and reblogs are integral to my well being at this point, please let me know if you liked it! ❤️

7.7k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Wiping at the sweat beads gathering on your forehead, you gaze around the new room. The apartment smells wrong, like past people's lives. The hardwood floors creak under your feet as you move to collect the last of the boxes, sound echoing delicately through the high ceilinged space, along with the tinny noise of the portable radio playing some generic rock song.

This is the biggest place you've ever lived in. The apartment was truly breath taking, such massive windows, an awe-inspiring view that took you by surprise each time; as well as a huge bathroom, and even a spare room for guests. Humming along to the radio, you stride towards the front door at the same time that Eddie walks right through it.

"Leaving already?" He laughs, hauling two boxes under each straining arm.

"I was going to get the last of it." You tilt your head at him, watching how his arms flex under the tension.

"Well, this is the last of it. Come and get it, pretty girl."

You smile and move to help him unload. The rock radio station suddenly changes tracks to an old Kiss record.

Eddie smiles, and starts singing along, reaching towards you, dragging you into a reluctant dance.

"I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me" he sings intentionally off key forcing a giggle out of you as he twirls you around.

"Oh God, this song is so old!" Rolling your eyes you attempt to extricate yourself from his grip.

"So? So am I. I remember when this came out, fuck." He looks almost distressed at that fact for a moment, before he recovers, spinning you on the spot and pulling you in flush to his chest.

"So, roomie, what now?" You laugh, batting your eyelashes at his behaviour.

Watching his face, you see his eyebrow raise, eyes squinting as in deep thought.

"Now? Now I take the moving van back. Then after that, well, we have sex in every room. Obviously. It's tradition." Nodding sagely, he states it like it's a well known fact.

"Tradition, huh? Since when?" You smirk back at him.

"Well, these things have to start somewhere, right?" He winks at you, pulling you even closer so he can mouth at your neck.

"Don't, I'm all sweaty!" You giggle, his lips and tongue brushing over your glowing skin.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Flushing, you push futilely at his face, attempting to move it away from you.

"Pervert."

"We're moving in together, and you've only just realised that? That's on you, sweet thing." Searching for that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder he locates it with ease, biting down hard.

"Oh Fuck, Eddie!" Fingers crunching uncomfortably into his hard biceps you bend your neck, uncontrollably twisting right into his spit slicked grip.

"Yeah? Maybe I should take the van back a little later, huh?" His fingertips flirt with the waistband of your shorts, firm digits pressing into the soft flesh of your tummy. His strokes are soft and measured, mouth moving to nip into the tops of your breasts.

"Eddie…" you try to say in a sing-song, warning manner; but, your voice comes out in a pathetic drawl, whining and needy.

"You want me to stop? Just tell me, pretty girl." He says as he pulls your shorts and underwear down in one swift movement, leaving you bare, exposed to the air and his ministrations.

"Oh Eddie" you breathe out, voice barely whispering, drunk on the mere thought of his touch.

"That ain't a no" he chuckles, roughly pulling his sweatpants down. The hardness of his pierced length presses into your begging cunt, the dripping slick of your anticipation just pleading for his well endowed shaft.

"Baby? Really?" You nearly giggle at his eagerness. That is, until he grasps you by the hips and presses your back against the wall.

"Yes. Really." Rubbing his pierced dick through your folds to gather your slick, he spits down at where you both meet to aid the process, that act alone having you gasping breathily, biting your lip at the lewdness of his actions.

Without another thought he's pushing into you, splitting you open with his imposing cock. You swear you can feel the steel balls of his piercing rubbing against your G spot. Eyes rolling back, you grasp at his arms, legs flailing helplessly in the air as you're suspended in the air by him, as helpless as a rag doll.

"Oh my God, Eddie, fuck." You salivate at the enormous stretch, cunt clenching around his girthy member. He has you pressed against the wall, back solid against the plasterboard and brick.

Hoisting your legs around his waist, you lock him in place deep seated inside of you, your hands woven and tangled with the messy bun his hair is loosely tied up in.

Foreheads touching, you can't help but feel a swell of relief blossoming in your chest at the feel of him filling you entirely.

"You drive me crazy, pretty girl. I just need you, all the time." He huffs a gruff laugh, clinging to your hips.

"I know, this just feels right" you breathe out, planting a soft feather kiss to his nose.

Keeping your back firmly forced against the wall he thrusts into you, pushing you upwards with every stroke. Panting, your heat envelops him, hands grasping his hair desperately, unable to meet his thrusts like this. You're his to use.

"Oh my God!" You moan brazenly, fingertips pressing minute bruises into his shoulders as you feel yourself being pushed to the apex of your concupiscence.

"Yeah? Fuck, you take me so well, such a good fuckin' girl." His drives into you increase, grunting with effort, large inked hands grasping you intensely; you, the object of his desires.

Burning for him, the throb between your legs mounts and mounts, threatening to burst primitively through your nerves.

"Oh Eddie, please," your tongue hangs out of your mouth uncontrollably, tongue stud glinting in the light. Eddie wraps your tongue in his own, rippling around it, licking into the soft heat of your mouth.

Gasping hotly, soft whimpers masked by his lips, Eddie's presence overwhelms you, clambering into your very soul; warm provocative want disbursing throughout you.

Wanton moans reach a crescendo when he pushes you over that precipice with his firm strokes. Your release antagonises every limb, forcing the true magnitude of your pleasure out through your very veins and beyond, the universe having to deal with being saturated with your violent delights.

Coming down, your cunt quivering, you feel his thrusts get harder and more erratic as he spews filth into your ear, hot breath dancing over your skin making you gasp and shiver.

"Fuck, my filthy angel, letting me use this pretty pussy, you drive me fuckin' crazy, with this tight wet cunt of yours, oh fuck!"

With a long, drawn out groan. After a moment, in between panting breaths, you manage to struggle out, "you're feral, Mr Munson."

Eddie laughs deep in his chest, you feel it vibrate through you.

"Only for you, sweet thing."

"I fucking love you baby" You say, lips dressing kisses to his jaw and throat.

"I love you too, sweets." His hands massage into the fat of your hips, lips peppering saccharine kisses to your salty skin.

********************

Nearly three weeks later and you're shoving whatever boxes that couldn't be unpacked on time into the muddle dump of the spare room, the panic of other people being in your space truly settling in.

You hardly feel to blame, you were only given three weeks grace from moving in, to having a party. It was not only your moving in party, but also Eddie's birthday on the 30th, and Halloween on the 31st. The trifecta was a little difficult to ignore.

Striding into the living room littered with black balloons, you move with purpose over to Eddie's weight bench, stifling a whimper at the sight that greeted you.

"Eddie, is that enough decorations… Jesus Christ."

You stop. And stare.

It's been a learning curve, moving in with Eddie. Sometimes, it feels as normal as breathing. On other occasions, he makes your mouth turn dry and your thighs clench and he doesn't even realise what effect he's had on you. This is one of those times.

Eddie's on his weight bench, shirtless, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. He positively gleams in the light, muscles and tattoos catching shimmers of light; bending and twisting the glow straight back into your star struck eyes.

It looks like a serious amount of weight he's benching; his torso is drenched in sweat. As he pushes the bar into the clips, he cocks his head and winks at you.

Mouth gaping like a fish, all you can do is watch that self satisfied smirk smooth across those lips like a warm balm.

"Hanging in there sweets?" He winks at you, shattering through your nerves like a freighter.

"I- er, yeah. Just wanted to uh, know, er, if the decorations are ok?" you say, indicating the all black décor.

Your own humming and stammering force your cheeks to blossom into an embarrassed glaze, eyes seeking submission, looking down and away.

"Looks incredible, sweet thing. Are you ok?" He frowns, genuine concern coating his consternation.

You glance back to grasp his eye contact, trying in desperation to avoid gaping at his toned sweaty form.

"I'm fine, just a little nervous you know?" Shrugging it off, you move to turn away, but Eddie's already grasped you firmly, fingertips biting into your upper arm.

"Are you sure? You know, we don't have to have a party if you don't want to."

The furrowed brow, the frown, the grip he has on you; you almost want to cry from the sheer concern to your feelings.

"It's fine baby, I'm ok, just a little nervous."

"You'll be great. You'll knock them dead. Hell, I'm sure everyone will like you more than me by the end of the night." His warm smile and coaxing strokes help to ground you.

"Thank you. I'm gonna get ready, ok? Have you got everything you need so you can change?"

"Yeah I think so, sweets. I put it all in the bathroom. Can I see yours when you're ready?"

You giggle and shrug your shoulders.

"Maybe? It's a surprise."

"Oh I see. Well, I'm sure it'll be hot. Can't wait, pretty girl."

He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, whilst his eyes leave fire bloomed trails across your skin; even breathing becomes difficult in the sheer strength of his presence.

"Ok, love you." You manage in a huffed breath, planting a tacky lipped kiss to his full lips.

Moving to the bedroom to settle down at your vanity, you apply the most innocent makeup that you can muster, knowing full well that Eddie was going to lose it when he saw you. All doll eyes and soft pink frosted lips.

It didn't take as long as you had left to get ready, but tactically you stayed alone in the bedroom just a little while longer.

You know, as sure as death and taxes, that Eddie will outstrip himself of all composure at the sight of your outfit. One of the many reasons why you felt it necessary to hide until just before the party commences. I mean, if he saw you before, you're well aware of how quickly you'd be pinned to the bed due to his desires.

Five minutes to go, and you feel just safe enough to make your exit. You know he has no time to manifest his impulses. Stepping out of the bedroom, you move towards him in your white low cut strappy top, white pleated tennis skirt and trainers, complete with angel wings and golden wire halo. Your thigh high socks are pristine, a white glow of virgin material, matching the soft white feathers of your faux wings. Turning on the spot in a flirty display, you give out a small girlish giggle.

"Holy fucking shit sweetheart. I mean, well. Fuck."

Whilst he clambers for speech, you catch a moment to take in just how good he looks.

As far as effort, it's not much. But you can't help but feel any more would be too much. Gilding the lily. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to steady yourself.

Looking from his large feet upwards, it's standard Eddie attire. Clunky combat boots, black jeans, and a black belt with a custom devil's head buckle. Glancing upwards is where it gets interesting. A maroon button down shirt adorns him, the sleeves rolled up and so unbuttoned that the majority of his glistening inked chest is exposed.

Fake blood makes its slow, antagonising drip from his neck down the rippling muscles of his torso. Fingertip smudges lay on his toned neck, drawing your eye to his stubbly chiselled jaw and cheekbones. His eyes look sunken due to the heavy eyeliner that sat there, enhancing his dramatic stare. The piece de la resistance lay in his curling mop of hair. Bone-like horns rose from his scalp into the atmosphere, so naturally they appeared to be a part of his body; you couldn't even work out how they were attached.

The most dramatic part of all were the all black contact lenses that appeared to not only take over his irises, but also the whites of his eyes, making him look possessed. Pure inky black orbs stare back at you in a way that makes your thighs clench with want.

Eddie's just about as lost in your looks as you are lost in his.

"Did you- did you know, sweet thing?"

"I saw the package arrive with the custom horns, I kinda knew from there. I had a school girl outfit, but I thought it would be cute to match, you know?"

Watching Eddie intently you notice a heavy swallow; an attempt to compose himself.

"A school girl outfit too? Which you have?" The shakiness of his voice ripples a chuckle through your chest.

"Yes, a school girl outfit. But you like this, right?"

"Oh you have no fuckin' idea sweets."

Taking your hand, he moves to spin you in a slow circle. When your back is to him however, he can't help but flip your skirt up to flash your underwear to his perverted gaze.

"Hey!"

"Hey what?" He says, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Creep."

He laughs in his throat, lifting your skirt again for a final peek.

"Can you blame me? I mean, look at this little white lace number, how I'm I supposed to control myself?"

As you giggle, pulling your skirt down, the doorbell rings.

"Ooh you're gonna get it later for this. I know what you're doing. You menace."

He takes long strides, aiming for the front door, and opens it with a single swing.

"Eddie!"

"Well, you would be first eh? Welcome, bro."

Squinting at the doorway, all you can see is the shiny white plastic of a stormtrooper costume.

A rather muffled voice emanates from the helmet. "Well, I've got to be on time, and meet this girl of yours. Good evening ma'am." He storms quite aptly into your apartment, sections of armour rapping with a dull noise.

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it. I'm gonna say it.

"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?"

The man in front of you struggles out of the white helmet, shakes out a mane of curly brunette hair and announces to Eddie, "marry her. Immediately."

Eddie laughs and swings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him so he can plant an affectionate kiss to your forehead. The stormtrooper pulls his white gauntlet off and gives you a keen but sweaty handshake.

"Dustin. Dustin Henderson. I'm Eddie's best friend."

"No you aren't."

"Er, yeah I am. Duh."

You laugh at their ongoing argument and gesture to invite him in. As he walks past, rambling about the size of the place and everything that Eddie's missed back home, you grip Eddie by the shoulder lightly, stealing his movements briefly.

Keeping your voice low, just for him, you say "Just, before this all starts, I wanted to ask if there's anything you wanted later tonight? You know, special, for your birthday?"

Eddie chuckles lowly as his hand engulfs your own. The other grips you firmly by the chin, forcing your doe eyes to meet his black steely glare, contacts magnifying his dominance.

"Oh sweet thing, there's only one thing I want you to do tonight."

Cocking your head with an unasked question, Eddie grins and bends to whisper hot breath in your ear. Just one word. One word is all he needs.

"Obey."

As quickly as it's said, he's gone, walking after Dustin with long strides, talking about back home. He's left you standing dumbly in the doorway; thighs clenched, mouth dry, with a hot blush creeping up your neck.

Trying to take soothing, calm breaths, you walk back into the apartment on almost wobbling legs. That is until the doorbell goes again. This time, it's Eddie's bandmates and manager.

The stream of party goers continues steadily and you spend your time meeting, greeting, dumping coats, and fixing drinks. The server within you goes on autopilot helping with every little thing. That is until you hear Eddie's laugh across the room, clear as a bell.

He's standing with Dustin and some other guy you don't recognise. Thinking it was about time you checked in, you move to walk over when a snippet of their conversation stops you dead in your tracks.

"So, I thought you were bringing Harrington? Haven't seen him in ages."

"Well he was gonna, but Nance went into labour. Kid number six. Can you believe that?"

"Six? Jesus H Christ, he doesn't mess around!"

"Oh, he told me to ask you specifically, 'when is that freak gonna finally settle down and have kids?' His words, not mine, trust me!"

Eddie chuckles. "Tell him, soon."

It's as if someone had stabbed an icicle through your heart. All the blood drains from your face in absolute shock. Mouth gaping for a moment, you spin on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

Closing the door to shut out the noise of the party, you perch on the end of the bed, trying and failing to gather your thoughts.

Kids? Eddie Munson wants kids? There had been no inclinations, no hints at that at all. Honestly, you were so sure deep in the marrow of your bones that he didn't that you hadn't even thought to ask.

Trying to gulp down the lump of panic that threatened to rise in your throat, you force yourself to stop your hands wringing and take deep breaths. This isn't the time to panic. This is the time to talk.

Steeling your rattling nerves, you stand up in a false confident motion and make your way to the door, just as Eddie ploughs through it.

"Sweet thing, I thought I saw you run in here. You good? Party too much?" A concerned hand cups your cheek in the gentlest manner, belying his outward demonic appearance.

"I'm- I'm fine. Well, not fine, exactly." You huff, knowing it's too much for right now, but neither of you were going to feel peace until this conversation was had.

"Come on then, what's up?" He perches lightly on the edge of your shared bed, patting the space next to him openly.

You sit, hand automatically seeking his, entwining his digits with your own. Looking down at your conjoined hands you breathe, and breathe, and speak.

"Listen, I get it, if you want kids I understand. It's just I know I've said I was good with marriage but kids are something I've never wanted myself and I know it'll come between us and if you want to end things I understand but I-"

"Woah, woah there sweet thing, slow down. What are you saying?"

You stop to breathe again, in an attempt to cease the incoherent rambling threatening to control your tongue.

"I'm saying if you want to break up with me I get it. I didn't know you wanted a family."

A bubble of a chuckle spills out from Eddie's chest, making you flinch. How could he laugh at a time like this? You feel your cheeks flash with crimson fury.

"I do not think it's funny Eddie."

"Well I do, pretty girl."

You whip your head to face him, rage threatening to broil over, staring incredulously. That is until he speaks.

"I don't want kids sweets. Where's this come from?"

You gape, mouth opening and closing like a caught fish.

"I- what? You just said, to Dustin! You told him ‘soon’!"

A full belly laugh consumes Eddie then, face creasing with the effort. You attempt to pull your hand from his in frustration but it just makes him grip on all the tighter.

"I'm sorry, sweets, let me explain. I always say that to Steve. It's kind of an in joke. Any time he tells me I need to settle down and have kids, I always tell him 'soon'. He knows I don't want kids, I've told him enough times. I'm sorry, it's just a running gag. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Well, now, now I feel stupid." You toss your head back to stare at the ceiling, willing the unnecessary tears to flee before they ruin your makeup.

"Hey, you're not stupid. Look at me."

Nothing could stop his ironclad voice gripping you and turning your head as if it were mechanical.

"It's a misunderstanding. Glad we caught it before it got out of hand. I'm not letting you go sweetheart. You're worth way more than some imaginary kids."

A weak smile dances across your lips. Eddie reaches out a calloused thumb to rub an errant tear away.

"Look at you, pretty girl, getting all worried. C'mere." You crawl into his lap, swaddled in strong arms. Safe.

Gripping your chin he tilts your face into an all encompassing kiss. The noise of the party lies forgotten outside, unimportant. Lips move sensually as one, tongues reaching out to stroke each other.

Eddie pulls away gently, black contact-lensed eyes sparkling devilishly.

"We best leave and get these presents out the way, or I'm never leaving this bedroom."

He winks and helps you out of his lap gently, holding out a strong hand to help you to your feet.

"Oh shit, sorry sweets." Pointing at your front, you follow his finger and notice the smudge of fake blood on the pristine white of your top.

"Well, that was inevitable." Shrugging it off, you move your way to the door, turning to take in his taunt frame one last time in private, before you have to share him again.

The next couple of hours whizz by in a whirlwind of Halloween music, pleasing platitudes and jaw aching smiles. The presents Eddie receives are vast and thoughtful, so much so that it makes you doubt your own gift.

Finally, he puts a 20 year old bottle of scotch to the side, a gift from John, his manager, and looks to open yours. Your heart sits heavily in your throat in anticipation.

Ripping the wrapping away, Eddie freezes in his tracks, hands hovering as if paused.

Cringing at the awkwardness of the silence you can't help but attempt to fill it with meaning.

"I know it's the same as the guitar you had to sell ages ago, and I just wanted it to be special, you know? So I asked John and he pulled some strings."

The N.J series Warlock shines almost evilly in red and black, the erratically curved body glossily gleaming in the light. All apart from the matt black signature clearly on display.

"Is this- is this Kirk Hammett's signature? As in, Kirk Hammett? Metallica's Kirk Hammett? How?"

You blush at his piercing gaze, eyes looking down and away.

"Well, I found the guitar, and John got in touch with their agent and I had a chat with their manager, told them how much of a fan you are, and sorted it all. Do you like it?"

"You have no idea, sweets. That's the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. This is the best gift I've ever got. Thank you." He reaches out to compulsively stroke your knuckles with his rough fingertips, eyes glossing over.

After another hour or so the party eventually dies down. The last to leave is Dustin, after several promises that you will both visit Indiana soon and participate in a Dungeons and Dragons one shot with the old Hellfire gang.

At long last, the front door is shut, and all is silent. You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding and walk towards the kitchen to start cleaning up. That is until a large hand wraps round the entirety of your wrist, stilling your movements immediately.

"What do you think you're doing, pretty girl?"

A flush creeps up the expanse of your neck, threatening to spill out onto your cheeks.

"I was- I thought I'd tidy up a bit, you know?"

"Sweet thing, we can sort this out tomorrow, together. You need to get in the bedroom. Right now."

For a moment you pause, a glass in each hand, halted in your activity. Eddie's large palm cups your cheek in the most delicate of manners. Hot breath permeates your space; a gust of suffocating heat that draws all air from your lungs.

"Did I stutter?"

You take in a sharp breath, eyes focusing on his firm gaze, his muscular frame, his horns. You place the glasses you're holding on the nearest sideboard and hustle your way to the bedroom.

Perching feather light on the edge of the bed, you clench your thighs in anticipation, not daring to strip off any clothes, waiting for his say so. It's unclear exactly when Eddie's word became unimpeachable, yet here you were, unwilling to untie your shoe without his permission. If it were anyone else you may find it within you to be embarrassed, but it was Eddie. You trusted him with every fibre of your being. He had you listening to him without question, because of the respect you had both fostered for each other. Something about him giving orders pressed your thighs together with urgent need.

The door swings open and Eddie strides in. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, staring at his muscular torso with inescapable want. Every nerve ending was singing with his previous word. Obey.

"Well look at you. Must be my birthday." Eddie smiles. It spreads across his face stickily, like warm wax and honey, drawing you in with its seemingly sweet demeanour.

"What do you want from me baby?" You blink at him, eyes round and wet and innocent.

"Well, I suppose you can make up for the teasing from earlier." He smirks and sits down on the edge of the bed, patting his knee in an effort to make you join him.

Staring at him cluelessly, Eddie tires of your games and manhandles you into position. A gasp escapes your lips when you find yourself bent over his knee with your ass unceremoniously in the air, practically begging for his succour.

Eddie flips your stark white skirt up to expose your lacy french knickers.

"Well, look at these pretty, pretty things. Pity you were such a tease earlier. Five on each cheek, seems fair right?"

A harsh breath expands your lungs in shock at his words.

“You've never done that many before.”

“You’ve never deserved it before.”

"I wasn't, I wasn't that bad baby. Please."

Eddie's laugh vibrates through the flesh of your thighs.

"Oh sweet girl, I think you know how bad you've been. So just do what I told you to do and obey, or it'll be ten for each cheek, ok sweetheart?"

Every fibre of your lower being threads together, tensing with the threat.

"Ok ok, I'm sorry baby."

"Good girl. See, I knew you had it in you."

He doesn't bother with further words, just spreads your ass over his thighs.

The first is little more than a tap, a teasing gesture to warm you up to the idea. You lay across him as still as possible, trying to will your muscles not to clench. The second is harder, the third harder still. Then the fourth happens. A proper spank, you feel it deep in the muscle of your ass. As soon as his large hand makes contact an involuntary mewling noise escapes your lips, high pitched and whiny.

“You OK sweet thing? Colour?” Eddie says, referring to your safe word system whilst rubbing softly over the impact, soothing away the sting.

“Yes Sir, green.”

Eddie lets out a self satisfied hum with the honorific.

“There’s my good girl.”

The shock of the fifth strike rips a moan from your throat, laced with need.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you enjoyed that.” Eddie’s voice reaches you, laden with something akin to pride.

“I mean maybe, a little.” You can’t escape the blush that reaches to the roots of your hair.

“Maybe, huh? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You exclaim at once, all embarrassment forgotten.

Eddie’s deep laugh at your eagerness vibrates from his tensing thighs into the flesh of your stomach.

“Atta girl, doing so good for me.” You try to control the way you want to squirm at the warmth of his words, face heating at the praise.

Suddenly, he delivers two quick slaps to the other cheek making you tense up; a strangled shocked noise forces itself out of your mouth. Eddie chuckles, soothing the red mark with gentle touches. His hand slips under the fabric of your panties stroking at the tender skin.

“Mind if I take these off, pretty girl?”

“N-no, that’s fine.” you lift yourself in the air, allowing him to roll your underwear off. You can’t help but cringe at the way they stick to your aroused heat, clinging to your core with the evidence of your desire.

“Fuck, these are soaked, sweet thing. I knew you were into this.” He hums, pleased with himself, and delivers another sharp smack to your ass, eliciting a whine from you. “Just two more sweets. Are you gonna be good for me?”

“Yes, please Eddie, please.”

The final smacks come down hard; the sting ringing across your skin in a ripple of white hot pain that borders on pleasure. Your fingers curl tightly shut, eyes squeezing small tears out of the corners.

“That’s it, pretty girl, all done. Such a good girl, taking it so well.”

You clamber off his lap, wiping at an errant tear. Moving to sit, you wince at the contact of your sore skin on the mattress.

“I’m sorry sweets, is it too sore? Here, get on your hands and knees for me. I need to taste my favourite thing.” He grins at you.

“Don't you want me to look after you? It’s your birthday.” You frown.

“No need to worry your pretty head about it, you know I want to.”

Easing yourself into position, you baulk at the sudden feeling of his tongue running through your folds. This position feels different and dirty; you’re entirely exposed to him. At his mercy.

Arching your back, you can’t help but push into his tongue, feeling his piercing run across you, slathering your cunt with his spit, making it even wetter than before. He slides it inside, fucking into you, before slipping out and running his tongue up to your ass. The unexpected feeling shakes you; being entirely inexperienced with any anal play you're surprised at how much you like it, how much your body wants to chase the feeling of his tongue. Moaning and shamelessly pushing back into him, you feel your core begin to ignite, threatening to blaze throughout your body.

Feeling the coarseness of Eddie’s fingertips rubbing against your clit, your ceaseless mewling grows louder, warmth pooling in your belly.

“Oh yes Eddie, please, don’t stop!” You plead, as if he were about to halt his movements. Nothing could have stopped him at this point; he was just as intent at pushing you over the edge as you were in falling over it.

Eddie’s tongue continues to tease and lap at your hole as you struggle to keep upright, knees wanting to buckle from the sheer volume of sensations coursing their way through you. Your sounds are desperate and hoarse; you’ve been so loud it's straining your throat.

Finally, the cord snaps and a wave of intense pleasure flows out of you, rippling over each nerve, winding its way over and around you, engulfing you in its warm glow.

Unable to keep your own head upright, your body sinks into the mattress, ass up, in an obscene mannequin’s pose. You don’t find it in you to care, still coming down from the intensity of your orgasm.

“That good for you, pretty girl?”

You make a noise, almost an ‘uh huh’. Eddie chuckles and begins stripping off his clothes. You hear his jeans and shirt hit the floor with a soft noise.

“I didn’t know you were into that; you’re just full of surprises, sweets. My filthy fuckin’ angel.”

You turn to face him, sprawled out unceremoniously on the bed. You fling your arm underneath you in order to hold yourself as upright as you can manage right now.

“Honestly, I didn’t know I was into that. You’re corrupting me, Mr Munson.”

Eddie smiles like the devil himself.

“Say it again.”

Furrowing your brow, you glance at him with a questioning gaze.

“You’re corrupting me?”

“Fuck, why is that so hot.”

He shakes his head, almost with disbelief, as he discards his underwear and lays down. He’s still wearing the horns, protruding from his head like some demonic entity. Seeing him laying there, with the black contacts still in, positively smothered with fake blood, dark tattoos and a thin sheen of sweat, you could almost believe he was a demon. You certainly weren't thinking angelic thoughts right now.

“So, angel, you gonna strip for me?” Eddie’s smile is encumbered with his desires, teeth flashing crudely.

Face flushing scarlet, you move to start taking your wings off. It’s Eddie’s turn to blush.

“Can- can you keep those on? I kinda like the idea of fucking an angel.”

Giggling shyly, you strip off entirely, and put the angel wings back on. You leave the halo too. He may as well get the full experience.

“C’mere.” Eddie gestures with grabbing hands, asking you to climb on top of him.

“Eddie I don’t think I-”

“Just come here. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Just want a good view.”

You scramble unsurely onto his lap on wobbly legs, soaking wet heat rubbing against his throbbing member. Eddie’s large, rough palms massage calming motions into the fat of your hips, making you feel more secure.

Sinking down onto his massive length, you bite your lip at the stretch, velvet quivering walls swallowing him whole; besmearing his length in your sticky slick.

“Eddie, I-I can’t, my legs-'' Your bottom lip shakes, knowing you don’t have the strength to ride him like he deserves.

“Hey, pretty girl, I’ve got you, it’s alright.” Each of his huge hands engulf your ass as he picks you up bodily and slams you back down against his pubic bone, cock buried deep within you, knocking all the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of the thrust. Your fake wings shake as if they were attempting to flutter towards the stars. Only it doesn’t stop. Eddie keeps slamming you into him, coarse pubic hair teasing your swollen clit, the hard thrusts feeling heavenly; each singular movement hitting that spot inside so deep it’s making you see God.

“Oh my- Oh my God, yes!”

Your mewling cries are proliferating with each heavy propulsion into your sopping heat. Struggling to keep your head upright, you feel it lolling to the side, overridden by the utter depravity of each drive into your begging cunt.

“That’s it, fuck yes, I’m your fuckin’ God now. Take it, my filthy fuckin’ angel. So tight for me.” Eddie’s thrusts into you increase in power, propelling into you with an obscene squelching sound. The fluttering of your satin walls only intensifies at his filthy words, sending a deep shudder into the depths of your core. Your walls uncontrollably twitch around his imposing length, shattering any hope you had of keeping composure.

Without further warning, the dam breaks. An intense flow of celestial light traverses throughout your every vein, your pussy desperately clamping around him, threatening to never let go. This feeling, this majesty of enamour, is something you wish to never see the end of. The intensity of it shocks you to your very core and washes away all previous versions of yourself, leaving you with you; here and now, a you that nothing else could ever contend with. A you that is his; owned by Eddie, through and through.

A few quick thrusts and Eddie is following you, painting your insides with the throbbing mess of his release. Sinking onto his chest, you snuggle close to him; fake blood and all.

“Well sweets, we’re a fuckin’ mess.” Eddie chuckles, gesticulating at the myriad of bodily fluids and Halloween blood that coats you both.

“I know, baby. Five more minutes?” You gaze at him with expectant eyes.

“Anything for you, pretty girl. Plus, we should shower together. We've not crossed the bathroom off the list." He winks.

********************

Today’s the day. One year since your impromptu date with Eddie. One year since you were unable to get this man off of your mind. One year since your life had been turned upside down, in the best of ways.

“Sound check! Come on guys, let’s get this rolling!”

You’d been hanging out backstage with Eddie and the rest of the band, helping them set up for what looks to be their most popular show yet. It hadn’t been the plan for your anniversary, of course. Eddie had made a point of letting you know that; but tour dates had changed and you had felt that it was easier for you to make a compromise than it was for the rest of the band, not to mention the hundreds of people watching them perform.

Their band, Tongue Tattoo, had braced the edges of obscurity and were suddenly thrust into the limelight with relatively no warning, as these things often develop. The pride you felt when watching him perform was unmatched. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the niggling need to have him to yourself on your anniversary, but knowing Eddie, you had no doubt in your mind that he would make up for it with alacrity.

“Hey, sweet thing”

Turning to face him, you see your gorgeous partner Eddie, kitted out in leatherette pants and a mesh shirt, looking as delectable as ever.

“Hey baby” you envelop his lips with the sweetest kiss.

“Can you do me a favour, pretty girl? The crowd’s just getting too big. Can you stay backstage? On the sides is fine, I just don’t want you near the pit. It’s too much.”

You frown, but nod your agreement. It was a lot, and you wanted to stay safe, if only for him.

“Atta girl. I’ll be looking for you, OK?”

“Sure baby, I’ll be there.”

He smiles warmly at you whilst planting a soft kiss to your knuckles. You can’t help but watch him walk away, eyes trained on the expanse of his muscled back.

Feeling like a spare part, you do your best to stay out of the way of everyone trying to set up for the show. The intense, out of order shout of everyone attempting to execute roles to little effect was draining on you.

“Hey, Eddie said you were staying backstage.”

John, Eddie’s manager, called out to you, an unlit cigar clamped firmly between his teeth. There was something a bit too slick, too neat about him, but you suspected this was just a trend of band managers. He had always been sweet to you, especially when fixing Eddie’s most recent gift.

“John! Thank God, I’m sorry, I think I’m in the way.” You shrug, heat blossoming on the apples of your cheeks.

“Not at all girl, all these guys are in your way, OK? Come stand over here, stage right, you can still see the show, and not be bothered by all these sweaty roadies, OK doll?” He flashes a greasy grin, proffering a hand. You take it gratefully and stand in the pre ordained spot.

“Thanks John, I don’t wanna be in the way.”

“Nonsense, everyone else is in the way! You wanna make it in Hollywood, you remember that.” He flashes a grin and moves off to tell someone how to do their job.

Giggling at his confidence, you attempt to manifest some of your own as the lights dim and the rumble of the crowd is thrown into overload.

Stage lights flicker into life, yellow and purple and red, and you glimpse the side profile of the love of your life. His cheeky side grin, the shimmer off of his hair. His pulsating aura, spreading out and hitting everyone it comes into contact with.

No matter how many times you see it, how many slightly different manifestations there were, you remain utterly enamoured with their show. The sounds, the sights, the theatrics; it drew you in every time, until your focus was irrefutably on Eddie, and Eddie alone.

He glowed. There was no other way to describe it. He was a luminous being, not this crude matter. Every pore of his seemed to exude this all encompassing sexual energy which quickly drew you in and made you impervious to any other energies surrounding him.

The show, as predicted, was phenomenal. Towards the end of the encore, you look to make your way on pre-programmed legs to Eddie’s dressing room, hovering further back from your viewing spot. He's pulling his guitar strap over his head and placing it down reverently; except, Eddie’s not leaving.

"Who wants to meet the prettiest girl in the building?" Eddie's gravelly voice projects into the microphone. You blush profusely as he gestures to you. Reluctantly, you wobble forward, taking a few unsure steps so you're just in view of the crowd. There's a rumble of applause and cheers from the fans, waving and shouting at your presence. Glancing out at a sea of faces you can't help but feel overwhelmed.

Eddie reaches his hand out to give you an encouraging squeeze which you accept gladly.

"Our last song is dedicated to you, sweet thing."

The band starts playing a slow number which sounds vaguely familiar; you can't quite place it at first, until Eddie starts singing.

"When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel…"

It's Creep, by Radiohead. One of your favourite songs. You didn't even know he knew that. Their version is heavier; it has a bite, an edge to it. Paired with Eddie's husky singing it quickly becomes your favourite version.

He winks at you, half of the time singing just for you, the other half playing up to the crowd.

"But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo!"

You giggle as he shouts into the microphone, harsh voice juxtaposing the melodic sound of the verse before it. Finishing the chorus, he strides over to you and grabs your hand, guiding you gently to the front of the stage.

"Eddie, what are you-"

Dropping his voice, low and quiet, he stares into your eyes.

"Whatever makes you happy

Whatever you want."

There's a sparkle to his eyes, a softness that threatens to spill down his cheeks for the world to see. Then, he kneels in front of you, pulling a ring box from his shirt pocket.

Time stops. Nothing as crass as seconds can possibly take place in this undying moment. The roar from the crowd echoes; rippling off the soundless bubble encompassing you both. It's trivial; barely registering. The moment stretches and lingers; you know it'll remain eternally in some way, an ouroboros; always there in your mind's eye.

Realising you're holding your breath, you take in a ragged gulp of air. It triggers the gathering tears that start to fall from saturated eyelashes.

"Sweet thing, you're so fuckin' special. You've left your mark on my heart, more permanent than any tattoo. I need you with me, for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, of course!" You hurl yourself to his level, knees buckling, throwing your arms around his neck with abandon.

Kissing and kissing and kissing him, he breaks away briefly.

"Do you want to see the ring?" He chuckles into the mic, eliciting a ripple of giggles in the hall.

Holding out your hand, he slides the ring onto your finger. A beautiful piece; it has a white gold, almost vine-like band, with a stunning ruby set in the centre. It reminds you of a rose.

"It's beautiful Eddie, thank you."

Eddie grins, says "Thank you and good night" to the audience before abandoning the mic and scooping you up in his arms, taking you utterly by surprise.

"Eddie! Jesus-"

"Hold on, sweets, I need you." He smiles deviously at you, making his way across the stage with large strides to whisk you away somewhere private.

You smile at his antics and fling your arms around his neck, nuzzling close. Some things, you hope, will never change.

Masterlist

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billgetsmewet · 22 days

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i will save your life…

request : HELLLOOOO so like- what if uh Bill x reader but like they do it while listening to deftones?? (Ex: Risk from the dimond eyes album or something) idk i feel like that would be a good short story idk 🫶🏻

warnings : p in v, smut, handjob, sub!bill, petnames (ex princess/slut etc.)

Bill has been on tour foreverrr.. he was supposed to come back today, you were telling all of your friends about it. It was a big thing, considering hes been all over europe in the past few weeks, not even stepping a foot in your hometown.

He calls you up out of nowhere saying the bus broke down, great. - you think to yourself as you sigh, making him hear on the other end of the phone. I wish i could be there with you already.. - he mumbles, but you can barely hear him.

The music in the background blurs his voice but so does the fact that he barely has any signal.

I cant hear you.. -you chuckle- are you listening to deftones in the bus?.. -you ask, making him focus on the music for a second.

Oh im not the one who put it on, it was Gustav - he chuckles aswell, before getting a bit startled by someone next to him.

The bus is fixed! - he yells out. Were gonna be there soon!

You feel your mouth rounding up into a cheeky smile as he says that, you both know what youre gonna do together when he gets home..

You get a ring at your doorbell, you get shivers down your spine as you rush downstairs to unlock the door for him.

You open the door and hug him, not even letting him enter before you do.

Is that.. deftones? - he laughs, hearing the CD player bursting deftones in your room at max volume. yeah.. i thought youd like it - you reply nervously. yeah! i dont mind it, if you know what i mean - he laughs, almost laughing off the fact that you tried to impress him.

You invite him upstairs into your room, as you always do, trying to “enjoy some time with him”. you sit down on your bed, just as he does, right next to you.

The music is blurring out any sound you might hear in your room or anywhere in your house, basically its hella fucking loud, eardrums hurting type of loud.

You look at Bill, trying to tell you something you just cant hear, with lust in his eyes, his lips glossy and his look begging for you.

You didnt even have to read his lips to know what he wanted, you felt it straight up.

You smile at him, before standing up to lower the music a bit so youd be able to hear his moans.

Next thing you know hes in his boxers and youre palming him, hes rock hard, whining for you to do something about it.. what a slut.

B-bmhh.. baby.. mhh! please! please! -he moans pathetically, begging you to fuck him.

Be patient now, wont you? you made me wait too.. you didnt visit me for weeks for some stupid tour, isnt that true, hm? -you argue.

He just keeps whining and moaning like a dog, his eyes tearing up. Baby it hurts.. p-please it hurts.. -he cries, yet you let him cry, you keep palming him and teasing him. You feel his precum leaking from his boxers, “god..” you thought to yourself, trying to hold yourself back, not letting him win.

Eventually he did win, no matter how hard you tried, you couldnt resist his puppy eyes. The music is still blasting in your ears as you hear a big moan from him, louder than the music, he has managed to rip the boxers… how? i dont know, you tell me.. It was a sign to jerk him off, or atleast you took it that way.

You started slowly pumping him from the bottom with one hand , while you tease his red, swollen tip with the other. His precum has already coated both of your palms. A-Ah!.. Ah!! please.. faster..mmh! -he moans, how cute. You do as he tells you and you start pumping him faster, now with both hands.

His mouth hangs agape, moaning and crying submissively.

Please.. please.. mommy.. please.. let me cum..-he whimpers. Do you think you deserve it, Billy? Have you been a good boy? -you ask in reply. Yes! mh..mhm! mhm.. please! yes!

He just wouldnt shut up, would he?…

A-hhmm..ah! mommy.. i cant take it anymore-mmh.. im gonna cum.. mmh.. - he moans, before comming all over your hands.

Now this wasnt acceptable, what a dirty little whore. Cant even listen to his own girlfriend.

Oh look at what youve done.. this dirty boy needs punishing, doesnt he? look at you.. - you say, degrading him. I-i.. i didnt mean to, im sorry.. i couldnt hold it back.. Nuh-uh! This dirty slut needs punishing after this.

You unbuckle your belt, letting your pants fall down, making a clinking sound as the belts hit the hardwood floor. You get ontop of him, grabbing his waist, sitting down on his lap, teasing him before you actually begin.

Oh look at you now.. already hard again.. -you say, seeing his boner become more and more intense. What a slut for mommy, arent you?

You take off your lingerie, making him stare at your bare pussy, this time, he was even harder.

You get ontop of him, bouncingyourself up and down, relaxing into the music and ignoring his requests and moans.

A-Ah! please slow down, it hurts.. mmh..-he was so sensitive, what a submissive boy.

Mhm?.. ah.. fuck.. Bill.. arent you a dirty little sensitive slut for mama, hm? -you groan, trying to hold back your whimpers and cries, he was big, you couldnt lie.

You started bouncing faster, not caring about his high but about your own, he was already a spoiled little boy anyways.

Mama.. mh.. i cant take it anymore im gonna cum again…-he cries, coincidentally right before you reach your climax, cumming all over his abdomen, making him not able to finish.

Fuck.. -you breathe heavily as you get off him. But.. But mommy… -he whines.

Bad boys dont get to finish, darling…

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Ps: i wrote this in school it took me like two hours and why tf is it so short… anyways the coffee thay im drinking rn is hitting diff ughhh, i think its mocha or something

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #smut #bill kaulitz smut #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz fanfic

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lipglossanon · 8 months

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Nobody's Listening When We're Alone

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

{offshoot one shot; stepdad!Leon S Kennedy x fem!reader}

Anon asked for bilingual reader who’s overheard talking to her friend about how hot Leon is which leads to a nsfw situation cause she doesn’t know he’s been learning the language 🤭 hope you enjoy anon!!

as I’m not fluent in anything but English (I know like 3 phrases in Spanish and some hella basic ASL) and I don’t trust google translate to be correct, I’ve made the italicized portions to represent when speaking in reader’s native tongue

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, bilingual reader, nipple play, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️ basically porn with no plot 😝

title from Dangerous by Big Data

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Your friend called as you started to walk into the kitchen, noticing that Leon’s already at the counter working on dinner. He smiles at you as you answer the phone and take a seat at the island.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a drag but what about you?”

“We should probably try and meet up this weekend then!”

After a while the conversation slips away from English to your native tongue.

“No, yeah he’s here. He’s actually making dinner. You wanna pic? Hmm I’ll see if I can get a selfie.”

“Ugh, he’s so hot, it’s stupid. I know.”

“You should see him after he comes back from a run or working out. God, he’s so sweaty and he’s wearing like hardly any clothes.”

“Mm yeah, mom’s so lucky and she doesn’t even know it. I’d be on my knees licking the sweat off of him.”

Looking over as Leon finishes adding some spices to whatever dish he’s making, you glance up and notice the time.

“Oh shoot, I gotta call mom. Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up the phone and smile at Leon as he sets down the mixing bowl. He walks over to your side of the island.

“Probably should take that selfie right?”

You gasp, eyes wide but Leon only steps behind you gesturing for you to pickup your phone.

Shakily, you raise it up, the forward camera catching Leon nosing at your hairline and dropping a kiss on the shell of your ear.

He turns his gaze to you in the camera as he cups your breasts through your shirt, thumbs grazing your nipples until they’re hard.

“Naughty girl, not wearing a bra?” He rumbles in your ear, goosebumps raising across your arms.

“Leon,” you mewl, eyes fluttering as he keeps tweaking and pinching your nipples through your flimsy shirt.

He tsks, “Now, that’s not my name.”

“Daddy,” you whine, pushing your chest into his broad hands, thighs rubbing together to ease the ache pulsing in your clit.

“There we go, such a good girl,” he murmurs, pinching your nipples even harder, watching as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

He plays with your tits as he tells you take a picture. Your hands shake but you manage to take a few. Lifting your shirt, he has you flashing your camera as his hands go back to groping you, fingertips flicking your hard nipples.

“Take some more pictures baby,” he kisses your neck, “then send’em to me.”

Your clit throbs as your panties fill with slick, snapping half a dozen pics of Leon toying with your nipples. He watches over your shoulder as you open up your texts and send the pics over to him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs in your ear making you whine.

“Now let’s go up to your room, we got a few hours before your mom’s home.”

In no time at all, Leon’s pressing you face down in the pillow as he rails you into your bed, pillows falling off the side from the shaking.

“Slutty girl I’ve got huh,” he laughs, humping his hips harder into your greedy pussy, “gotta teach you a lesson in manners.”

“Uh huh,” you drool, face turned to the side, ass raised in the air for Leon to fuck deeper into your wet hole, “daddy, please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, grinding his cock against your g-spot, “that’s so fucking hot, say it again little slut.”

“Daddy, daddy, please,” you chant, dizzy with arousal and drooling on the sheets.

“So good, such a tight fucking pussy,” he growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to tease across your clit, “gonna make you squirt all over me.”

“Leon,” you squeal as he picks up the pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.

“God, glad your mom’s not home,” he groans, chuckling when you clench down on him, “yeah don’t want her to see me fucking this little pussy, huh? Daddy just couldn’t help it honey, had to get my dick in your tight hole.”

You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock, “This is so wrong, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know,” he smacks your ass, “it’s so dirty baby, but gotta get my dick wet somehow, right?”

You nod, “Yes, yes, need you in my pussy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah it does,” he laughs meanly, “best pussy I’ve had in a while.”

He shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs all against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets as he flicks and pinches your pudgy clit.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you slur against the bed.

“Do it then,” he taunts, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard, “cum all over my cock, wanna feel this tight little pussy squeeze me.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re screaming out your orgasm against your drool coated sheets, pussy clamping rhythmically around Leon’s fat cock.

“Oh honey, that feels so fucking good,” he praises you, hands slapping your ass again making you squeal, “fucking work that pussy on my cock, wanna cum inside you.”

“You can’t,” you whine back at him although you really wouldn’t mind it, pussy fluttering at the thought of Leon’s cum filling your cunt.

“You can’t stop me,” he laughs, “besides don’t you wanna know what it feels like? Ever had a boy creampie your cute little pussy before?”

“Nooo,” you whimper as Leon’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit, “never had one, s’bad, could get pregnant.”

Leon groans, “Yeah, that’s the point, guys like going raw so they can breed hot wet pussies like your’s, baby. C’mon, just let daddy fill you up, you know it’ll feel so good. Promise I won’t knock you up.”

You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter, “O-okay, but only if you promise I won’t get pregnant.”

He chuckles, “I promise I won’t give you a baby.”

You both are getting off to this fucked up scenario, both pretending like Leon’s promise actually holds any weight.

“Cum in me, daddy,” you pant, mewling as his fingers rub your clit even faster, “want it, wanna feel it.”

“Oh fuck,” he groans, hips snapping hard against your ass, “ready? Fucking take it, take your daddy’s load deep in this needy little pussy.”

You whine as you feel his hot cum filling your cunt, stuffing you so full it even drips out around his cock. He ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches when your second orgasm sweeps through you.

He pulls out with a grunt, laying down on the bed next to you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath.

He grins at you, smoothing his hand across your hair, “Maybe next time be a little more careful when talking with your friend, sweetheart.”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #stepcest #stepdad!leon s kennedy x bilingual fem!reader #stepdad!leon s kennedy fem!reader smut #stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #stepdad!leon s kennedy smut #stepdad!leon s kennedy x bilingual!reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut

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sugasiren · 1 year

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☆ Astro Observations Pt 2 ☆

**NOTE: This blog contains Mature Content.

💜 Scorpio Suns can "fake" smile A LOT - especially the women. They'll have big ass Cheshire Cat grins on their faces when trying to convince others that they care when they DO NOT. Shit looks mad weird! 🤣 Scorpionic Energy is meant to be dark, enticing & magnetic. So just embrace it!

💜 Scorpio Venus Women can be reserved Nuns or wild Wh0res! Lol. They can go hard in either direction. Either way though, they *hate* to be objectified and crave connection. Scorpio Venus Men are simply seductive AF. 🔥 Like dayummm! They're usually a highly sexual yet very choosy bunch. They can go years (by choice) without sex like a Monk. Many will "hold back" and repress their craving for an all-consuming love. Then suddenly FLOOD with emotions (and semen lol) for that special somebody - ready to devour your pu$$y & envelop your soul! 😎 These men are possessive & not for the faint of heart.

💜 Individuals with Mars in the 3rd House are MAJOR Sapiosexuals. Deep conversations turn them on!! Intellect gives these women many tingles and usually arouses *both* heads on the men. 🔥 3rd House rules short-distance travel... so these people may enjoy car sex, sex outdoors or sex while on a weekend getaway. Also, the women can correlate how a man drives/parks with how he fucks. 🤣 And you know what? It actually makes sense! A man who sucks at parking is probably a shitty lay. Lol. A man who handles large trucks with ease will probably dominate you.

*fans self*

💜 Libra Risings often look like walking works of ART from the Romantic Era. 💕 Paint these pretty bitches in ALL of their Venusian glory! Just sit them next to an elegant fireplace wearing *nothing* but a silk robe and a smile for Titanic vibesss. Often, the Men look like Sculpted Gods (like The Rock & Idris Elba) or Pretty Boys - like Leo DiCaprio & Harry Styles. And the Women are typically very lovely & voluptuous - like Beyonce, Doja Cat & Kate Winslet. Even when Libra Risings are average in appearance, they come across as pleasant & attractive to others.

💜 Men with strong Capricorn and/or Leo in their charts (especially Mars, Moon or ASC) give hella Big Dick Energy. 💪💪 Take me from the back, Zaddy! And they often make for being the best Providers for their families. *King Aura*

💜 Women with strong Taurus and/or Scorpio in their charts give Big Clit Energy. 🔥 Women with heavy Leo or Capricorn definitely possess Queen Energy. 🥂 Ladies with strong Aries give BOTH! The Queens w/ the Juicy Clit. ♈

💜 Aries Suns are indeed the PIONEERS of the Zodiac in every sense of the word. They blaze trails everywhere they go. 🔥🔥 Aretha Franklin was The Queen Of Soul; Marlon Brando & Bette Davis were the King & Queen of Old Hollywood; Celine Dion & Mariah Carey created the female Vocal Trinity that dominated the 90's music scene; Steven Tyler taught us how to boldly "Dream On" and Marvin Gaye asked us "What's Going On?" and inspired us to think! Selena was the FIRST woman to became a megastar in Tejano Music; Loretta Lynn broke major ground for women in Country Music; Martin Lawrence made us laugh until we peed our pants; Lady GaGa is in a glorious class all by HERSELF. 💯 Van Gogh created timeless Art; Phoebe & Simone have inspired the masses to bring back real romance as the lead actresses on the smash show 'Bridgerton'; Halle Bailey is amazingly talented & is going to be the best damn ARIEL this world has ever seen. 🧜🏾‍♀️

You need a ground-breaker? You need courage & inspiration? You need to see the IDGAF spirit in action? Go find an Aries and they'll get the damn job DONE. ♈

That's all for now Darlings! 💕 Catch you again soon.

#aries sun #arieswoman #libra rising #scorpio venus #scorpio #leo sign #capricorn sign #capricorn women #taurus sign #astro observations #astro notes #astro tumblr #astroblr #astrology observations #3rd house #mars

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honeybeefae · 10 months

Note

Revenge Fuck Eris

Use Me (Eris x Reader)

BINGO: Revenge Fuck

(Okay I am back and I am READY! Also going to apologize for making this so short but i KNOW y’all will want a part two so dont worry. This was hella fun to write and I definitely think Eris would be 100% for a revenge fuck because he would egg you on. I really think this is one of my best-written scenes and I hope you guys enjoy it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of cheating (both parties), semi-public sex

What. The. Fuck.

Those were the three words your mind was repeatedly screaming when you walked in on Azriel, your boyfriend, your best friend, the man you’ve been with for years, pinning the youngest Archeron sister against the wall with his head buried in her neck.

There was no explaining away the situation. Nothing innocent about the pose and you felt a dangerous mix of anger and betrayal brewing deep in your soul. You had stood there frozen as Elain’s eyes had met your own, at first widening in surprise and shame before Azriel did something that had her gasping and moaning.

You balled up your fists and heavily contemplated murdering them both before your shoulders sagged and you turned and left the room. It felt like all the rooms were caving in around you, your blood rushing to your ears as you stumbled down the hallway trying to find your room.

“Y/N?” A garbled voice called out, your mind not even registering it until the person physically stopped you and shook your shoulders. “Y/N!”

Your eyes blinked away the tears that were falling down your face as you made out the face of Eris. You had forgotten he was staying in the Night Court for the night, the Solstice party upstairs still in full swing.

“Leave me alone, Eris. I’m not in the mood.” You frowned, pushing his hands off of you and turning around. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, stopping you once more. It pissed you off.

“I said leave me alone!”

“Who did this to you?” He asked quietly, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Who made you cry?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You hiccuped, looking at your shoes. When you had found them all you had felt was rage but now that you were alone, you were consumed by sadness and shame. What if’s were running through your mind, wondering if you had done something or if you had become unattractive. It was gnawing at your gut.

“It does to me,” Eris murmured, putting two fingers under your chin so you were looking at him. “What happened?”

Eris, despite his flaws and the rumors around him, had always treated you well. You were his favorite member of Rhysand’s court if he had to choose though that wasn’t saying much. The two of you had similar fathers and bonded over it. Sometimes you would joke around and it always bothered Azriel. In fact, if you were ever close to Eris with Azriel in the same room he seemed to have a problem with it.

All that being said, could your trust Eris? Would he laugh in your face and confirm your worst fears? Would he use it to hurt you later? There was still so much that you didn’t know about him it was hard to decide if he was who he presented himself as.

But as he watched you, you saw no laughter or judgment in his eyes. Just worry.

“I caught,” You took a shuddering breath, wrapping your arms around yourself as the scene replayed in your head. “I caught Azriel and Elain…they were, he was…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence. It felt like you were going to be physically sick if you continued speaking so you closed your mouth and closed your eyes, trying to take deep breaths.

His fingers disappeared from your chin and you had thought he had left, too uncomfortable to say anything or perhaps even go gossip, but when you peeked out you saw him still standing there.

Except his eyes were now filled with cold rage, his jaw tense. You saw that his fist was curled up by his side and could physically feel the heat coming off of him. He turned to look behind him, as if contemplating if he should go find the couple, before turning back to you.

“What an ignorant, foolish male,” Eris growled, long strands of red hair falling in front of his face as he shook his head. “To go out and find a star when he had a whole galaxy right in front of him.”

Your head snapped up to look at him when he finished his sentence, confusion evident on your face. What had he just said?

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You heard me.” He whispered, watching you take in his words. “He’s a fool to go after someone like her when he has you. If you were mine…”

Eris cut his sentence short, tightening his lips to stop whatever confession was about to spill from his mouth. You, however, wanted to hear it and stepped closer to him. The tears on your face were shining in the candlelight of the hallway as you gazed up at him, your heart thrumming.

“If I was yours?”

“I do not wish to make things harder on you. I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. Let me escort you back to the party.” He ushered, trying to change the topic. However, you planted your feet firmly on the ground to root yourself in place.

“No, I don’t want to go back to the party.” You said stubbornly, raising your chin. “Finish what you were going to say.”

“If I finish that sentence I am afraid my rocky alliance with this court will come tumbling down. Please.” His voice was tense but you could see how his cheeks flushed, how his breathing was just a little faster, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing back once more.

“Oh for goodness sake, Eris, just-” You began frustratedly, gasping when you suddenly found yourself pressed against the cool brick of the hallway with Eris looming over you. His body was pressed fully against you, his hand lightly grasping your face, and you could swear you could feel something grazing your thigh.

“If you were mine I would take care of you properly. I wouldn’t leave you in search of anyone else, I wouldn’t need anyone else.” He breathed into your ear, swallowing thickly. “If you were mine…I would ruin all other men for you. I would teach you so many things, show you how a lady like yourself should properly be bedded and fucked. You would begin every morning and end every night with my name on your lips and your legs wrapped around me.”

His words went straight to your sex and you couldn’t stop the small whimper that escaped you. Eris had always been a distant friend, if that, but you couldn’t deny his beauty. The way he carried himself, his attitude, and even his walk had you staring for longer than you care to admit.

You knew your body wanted this…you knew Eris wanted this…but then your mind flashed back to Azriel. The man who you lived with, the man who made you feel safe and secure. He had always made sure your needs were met, that you never wanted for anything.

And he also was currently in another room screwing Elain Archeron’s brains out.

It seemed Eris caught your hesitation and while a small part of him wrestled with the morality of what he was intending to do, the bigger part wanted to show you just how better you could be treated. He also liked the fact that he would be taking something from the sulking Illyrian, something he didn’t understand the true value of.

“Come on, little fox.” Eris purred into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “Use me. Get revenge. Let me show you what you need.”

Your eyes closed, feeling like you were standing between two doors that led to different fates. All sorts of conflicting feelings were swirling in your soul but when Eris trailed a hand up your leg, hiking it over his hip, the answer became crystal clear.

You wanted him.

“Yes, yes.” You nodded, raising your hands to tangle in his hair. “Ruin me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he crashed his lips against your own, your teeth gnashing together in carnal need as he easily moved your other leg so that you were now fully wrapped around him. The taste of him had you growing even wetter as he slid his tongue into your mouth, using one of his hands to free himself before shoving your panties to the side.

You cried out and threw your head back when he thrust into you fully, the delicious stretch of his cock feeling better than any man you had had before. He immediately set a hard pace, angling his hips so he reached that spot inside you that had you clenching around him tightly.

“Fuck, Eris, oh my gods…” You whined, your dress bunched up at your hips as your feet bounced with his thrust. Eris was no better, his lips moving to start biting at your neck and shoulder. He was being rough, his teeth catching your skin, but you loved it. It was making you feel a high you didn’t get with Azriel.

“I knew you’d be tight for me, knew you’d take me so well.” He praised as he grabbed both of your asscheeks for better leverage. “Do I fuck you better than that bastard? Hm?”

When you tried to answer he gave a particularly hard thrust that made you see stars, your eyes rolling back into your head as you rested it against the wall. You could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, faster than ever, and you knew you were going to drown in it.

He knew it too, could see the small o your lips were creating as he licked a long stripe up your neck and to your ear. Your hands moved his hair to grasp his shoulders, your nails digging so hard into his skin that you pierced it.

“Look at you, Y/N, letting me fuck your pretty cunt in the hallway where anyone could see. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” He taunted, his balls tightening with the need to release. “You want him to find you, to see you getting split in half by me. You want to be claimed in front of the world.”

You tried to shake your head but Eris grunted in disapproval, squishing your face in his hand until your eyes were forced open. His pupils were blown wide in lust, matching your own, and you swore it was just the two of you in the whole world.

“Say it.”

“I want it,” You moaned, right on the cusp of ecstasy. “I want him to see me like this, for him to see how much better you are.”

Eris snarled and kissed you once more, hitting that spot in you one more time and sending you toppling over the edge. It made your entire body shake and you felt like you were floating on air. He followed you into bliss easily, releasing inside of you until you were filled to the brim.

Both of you were sharing breaths when he pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. He still had you pinned which you were thankful for as you weren’t sure if you could walk yet. You came down slowly as you realized what had just happened, what you had just done.

And where you expected guilt to reside you felt…nothing. In fact, more than anything, you felt hungry for more. It was like brushing over a bite that itched. You couldn’t get just a taste, you needed everything. You needed to scratch that itch until you were satisfied.

When your eyes connected with his you knew Eris felt the same way. You smiled, exposing all your teeth, before nodding once. He gave you a small smirk and held you tightly against him before winnowing away to his temporary room in the Night Court.

Both of you missed the pair of vengeful hazel eyes watching you from the end of the hallway.

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