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specsthesecond · 18 days ago

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°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick, fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside, advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orc's house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do now.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots, grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton-tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter.

Come afternoon, you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew and his flask tightly inside, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even, and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before, why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety.

You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it not thick enough? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered when you realise he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an orc and plops another spoonful onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow, but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it. He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while, you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section, and you point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks, which seem a darker green than before.

After that, you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing, you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees, you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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#Reader slowly finds out what love is. Hope that won't backfire or anything.#orc x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #terato #orc romance #orc x human #❆Orc woodsman

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httpsserene · 2 months ago

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𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ listened to heart to heart by mac demarco on repeat while doing this writing exercise at two a.m. happy reading, loves x

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

lando snores when he sleeps on his back.

he doesn’t snore when he’s on his side, when the curve of his body cradles yours.

like this, his face nestles into the nape of your neck, nose and lips brushing the skin tenderly. his chest radiates warmth against your back, spilling through your skin and warming you from head to toe. he sacrifices the arm tucked under your head, knowing it’ll be dull with numbness come morning. his other arm drapes around your waist, his large hand splayed on the softness of your belly, drifting upward at some point in the night to hold the plushness of your chest.

the first morning you woke with his hand resting on your bosom, he murmured a sleepy explanation into your skin, feels nice. and, it was nothing more than that.

like this, the only sounds you hear are the snuffles of his breath, warm and fuzzy on your neck.

lando snores when he’s deeply asleep.

he doesn’t snore when he rests his eyes, when he leans onto any surface to nap.

like this, whether it’s a chair, couch, floor, table, or tire stack—if he can close his eyes for a few seconds, he’ll be unconscious within the minute. by far though, his favorite napping spot has to be you.

lando will seek you out for the pure purpose of shutting his eyes for a moment. he crawls into your arms with his eyes already closed and asks, put me to sleep?

you massage his scalp, nails scraping along his crown gently, untangling the curls that your fingers get caught in. your other hand scratches up and down the length of his back soothingly. you speak to him softly, about anything that comes to mind and if you’re lost for words, you hum.

he’s never down long enough to reach deep sleep. his body twitches with hypnic jerks as his sleep cycle begins.

like this, naps are when lando’s silent. he extends the length of his snooze session by not handing the team a map to his location, the marked path of his snores erased.

lando snores when he’s on his back and deeply asleep.

like this, he lies flat with you curled up to his side. your head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart amplified with your ear pressed close. his arm around your back anchors you to him. your arm lays across his torso and your leg hooks around his.

lando is called to sleep first, as always. there was a time where you were jealous of how quickly he drifts away but now, you fight unconsciousness to wait for him to reach a deep slumber.

because if you do, you’re rewarded with a snore. the sound is throaty and nasally, it rumbles through his chest and interrupts your focus on the pumping of his heart. aptly, you’d compare it to an idling engine.

snoring is annoying to most people, for good reason. it’s disruptive, loud, and if the repetitive noises prevented you from getting your own sleep, you’d have lost your mind already.

but to you, it’s proof that lando is resting well. that his sleep is restorative, that his body is recovering, that his immune system is strengthening, and that his worries and stressors are far from mind. so, you listen to him snore for a few minutes.

however, you don’t allow yourself to treasure the rumbles for long—long term snoring can lead to other risks later in life.

you don’t want snores to be the reason you aren’t allowed a lifetime with lando.

so, you slide off of his chest, huffing quietly as you strain to shift the limp weight of his prone body onto his side. it takes effort, eventually trapping him in the embrace of your arms, throwing your leg around his hip, and tucking his head under your chin.

like this, his snores taper off into nothingness and the little strength you had left to keep your eyelids open is diminished.

lando snores when he’s in your dreams. the raspiness of his exhales mimicked by your subconscious mind calms you. you are able to rest well knowing that he’s doing the same.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x yn #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fic #serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: ln.

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sweetshuga · 27 days ago

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Roommates ✧ CS [Finale]

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

roomie!chris! Finding the truth about your roommate—his dirty little secrets.

Everything went back to normal after your confrontation. You decided to forget about it all and go on about your day without thinking about the weird feelings you had developed.

Even so, you couldn’t ignore the way he would look at you sometimes – like he was checking you out – which the rational part of your brain kept telling you it was just your imagination and that you were delusional.

All the ground rules swirled in your mind like a broken record.

You can’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt when you remembered all the times you’ve broken the rules—without him knowing.

Rule number 1: Do not fall for each other.

You felt that spark you shouldn’t have felt.

Rule number 2: Do not invade each other’s privacy.

You eavesdropped his alone time.

Rule number 3: Do not touch each other’s belongings.

You took his camo tee.

Rule number 4: Don’t invite guests over after dark.

You let your friend come over despite it being late.

Rule number 5: Respect each other’s boundaries.

You went into his room while he was out.

Rule number 6: Do not lie to each other.

You lied through your teeth about not knowing where his camo tee was.

Rule number 7, the final rule: Clean up after yourself.

The final rule is the only one you haven’t broken yet, what to say, you were a bit of a clean freak after all. Chris, too, always kept his room tidy and cleaned after himself around the dorm.

𓆩♡𓆪

One evening, as you lounged on the couch, you felt a sudden feeling in your gut. You tried to shrug it off, thinking it was just a light stomach ache, but the feeling didn’t go away, only worsened.

Annoyed, you stood up—determined to get rid of the feeling. And as you walked, you couldn’t help but peek into Chris’ room; he had gone out.

Your stomach churned with nerves as you slowly let yourself in his room, yet again. You had broken the rule already, it wouldn’t hurt to break it again, right?

Your gaze landed on his bedside drawer, curiosity sparked within you as you took subconscious steps towards it. You wanted to know if that thong was still inside the drawer you previously found it in, and there it was, the same peach coloured frilly lacy thong.

You let out a small gasp as you checked the size and brand—it was without a doubt yours. You stared at the scrunched up fabric in your hands, questions flooded your head, the loudest one being, "why?" You echoed your thoughts out loud.

Looking around his room, you stood up, the thong clutched in your hands as you hesitantly opened his closet—only to find various polaroids of you and a few more of your lingerie.

The sight was almost too much to handle and you closed his closet, leaning against it, you murmured quietly, "what the fuck..." Confusion etched on your features.

You took a deep breath and turned around, facing the closet door once again and opened it. Crouching down as you inspected the polaroids. They were of you sleeping, looking away, cooking– he had taken them when you weren’t looking or paying attention.

"Jesus..." You breathed out, "what is all this?" Your hands reached for the lingerie. Pink lacy thongs, blue frilly ones, black g-strings—every one of them yours.

𓆩♡𓆪

Closing his bedroom door, you headed straight into your room. You plopped on your bed – looking up at the ceiling – with a drop in your gut. You only now knew who you were living under a roof with. A sick fucker, disguised by his good looks and innocent behaviour.

Despite your thoughts and the fright you felt, there was a small smile on your face—as if you were relishing in the newfound attention.

You weren’t as scared as you should’ve been, instead, his obsession with you seemed to make your heart race, in a sick, twisted way.

𓆩♡𓆪

When Chris arrived back to the dorm, he noticed that his room door was slightly ajar, and as he entered it, his heart dropped to the floor.

The things he so desperately wanted to hide – his dirty little secrets – were scattered all across his bed and floor. Lingerie and Polaroids adorning his once tidy room.

His heart raced with fear and excitement as he looked back at your bedroom door, closed but with a note stuck on it.

"I know."

𓆩♡𓆪

Rule number 7: Clean up after yourself.

You had left it messy, on purpose.

𓆩♡𓆪

rule. 1 2 3 4 5 6 Origin

wc. 754

note. English is not my first language—if you didn't catch on with my poor vocabulary and writing skills.

Isa's notes. This is the last part of the blurb series! But spoiler? I'm writing the full length fanfic to the series! Dunno when I'll finish it, let's just say I got a writers block kinda situation going on right now, sucks ass but yeah... At least this one is the longest in the series. And as much as I want to continue this series, the rules are limited sooo... Here we are, saying goodbye to roomie!chris, for now ♡

Also, the fact that the blurb series started off with a cute little fluff kinda thing to this? Plot twist hoes 😋

Taglist: @certified-sturniolo @sturnioloszn @ashlishes @slut4brunettes @wpcne8sr @ribread03 @poolover123 @h3arts4nat @freakbob15

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

#chris sturniolo #roomie!chris #chris x reader #chris x you #blurb #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #sturniolo triplets #smut #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfiction #christopher sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo oneshot #oneshot #sweetshugacs #𓆩♡𓆪sweetshuga

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sweetpascal · 4 months ago

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𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

gif by: @richardgrimes

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: when you do the unthinkable, joel takes it upon himself to let out all of his anger and frustration onto you. the punishments that follow are ones that officially tear you apart and turn you into an unrecognizable girl.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], joel is VERY VERY VERY mean in this chapter, face slapping, hair pulling, hella manipulation, finger sucking, spanking as punishment [with his hand and belt], TW: isolation as punishment, TW: emotional abuse, joel spits on your face, oral [m receiving], TW: forced asphyxiation, joel has a very big dick ok, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia, kinda angsty ??

wc: 7.3k

notes: i felt kinda blah about this series cause i feel like i'm not making joel mean enough compared to how some writers write dark!joel (´•︵•`) so i got really sad and put all my emotions into this chapter as a coping mechanism and made joel REALLY fucking mean and just... a horrible and nasty man. trauma ?? i think so. ENJOY. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

edit: i posted this later than expected UGH. expect two updates in one day.

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

By the time you awoke, the space beside you in bed was vacant. You have no recollection of drifting off in Joel's embrace. As you rise, the fluffy blanket cascades down, gathering around your hips. Joel must have draped it over you once you had succumbed to sleep. The absence of his clothes on the floor and the chill of his side of the bed leave you questioning whether he stayed the night at all, stirring a sense of unease within you. He had done something new, something that made you feel good, and he wasn't here when you woke up. Why? Why wasn't he here? Why do you feel so cold all of a sudden? Was this something normal that men do? Embarrassed by the series of events from last night, you pull on your discarded panties and shorts.

The sunrise had not yet begun. Looking out the window, the sky displayed an almost purplish tint with the sun barely cresting the horizon. It was a cloudless sky, yet the faint chirping of morning birds could be heard from their respective trees. Unsure of the time, as Joel had confiscated your phone and you lacked an alarm clock, the day's start remained ambiguous.

As you tiptoe out of your room, you notice the house is completely quiet. Joel usually wakes up before dawn, but today, a faint snore drifts from his and your mom's bedroom. Moving down the hall, you gently push the slightly open door further. In the dim blue light filtering in from outside, you can just make out Joel's form. He's sprawled on his stomach in the center of the bed, clutching his pillow while your mom's lies abandoned on the floor. Shirtless, the sheets are drawn just below the dimples of his back. The bedside clock shows 5:22 AM.

"Daddy?" you whisper faintly into the darkness, pausing for an answer. Only his soft snores, muffled by the pillow, meet your ears. Drawing nearer, you notice Joel is lying on his good ear, the other affected by partial hearing loss. The urge to rouse him is strong, yet you hesitate, knowing these moments of peaceful rest are few for him.

The rumbling of your stomach makes you whimper. Joel usually prepares meals for you when asked. Your mother, however, rarely agrees, often reminding you that you're old enough to cook for yourself. But Joel always protests, saying, "I don't want your pretty little hands to get all cut up and burned." Perhaps he wouldn't mind if you made breakfast just this once. It would be a sweet gesture to surprise him with breakfast in bed. You wonder if your mom ever did something like that for him.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, okay, Daddy?" you whisper, a bit louder this time, your hand hovering just above his broad back. You can feel the warmth radiating onto your palm. When he doesn't respond, only emitting another snore, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, cringing when it makes a loud noise at the last moment.

Descending the stairs, a sense of unease weighs heavily in your stomach. Alone, with dark blue hues filling patches of the vacant house and shadows stretching across the walls, you almost feel an invisible presence. You find yourself wishing Joel were awake to fend off the lurking shadows. Rushing to the kitchen, you flip on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness until your eyes adjust.

Opening the fridge revealed a lackluster array of dinner leftovers, several half-empty condiment bottles, an empty milk carton, and a bag of grapes beginning to rot. It was disappointing to find nothing inspiring to cook with. A glance at the stovetop clock showed it was 5:30. The local market would open at 6, and it was only a half-hour walk away. However, the prospect of walking that distance didn't appeal to you, dramatic as it might seem. Your eyes then fell upon Joel's truck keys and wallet in the bowl on the kitchen countertop. Surely, he wouldn't mind if you borrowed them for a quick shopping trip.

Right?

By the time you returned home, it was nearly 8 o'clock. The neighborhood had fully come to life. The groceries in the truck's backseat jostled with every gentle turn. A sinking feeling emerged at the thought of Joel's anger over you borrowing his truck without asking and taking some of his twenty-dollar bills. Yet, it stemmed from a desire to do something kind for him in gratitude for his good care during your mother's absence. An excitement bubbled within you, eager to burst.

You hadn't planned to be out this long, but losing track of time and procrastinating on your tasks is a frequent issue. Joel often chides you for this, playfully urging you to get your head out of the clouds and to come back down to earth. Your only hope is that Joel remains asleep, unaware of your absence. However, the missing money from his wallet, the extra miles on his truck, and the depleted gas are sure to give you away.

As you park the truck in the driveway, you notice the porch screen is wide open, though you remember closing it before sneaking out. Your heart sinks at the sight of Joel's daunting figure in the doorway, his gaze piercing through the windshield. It's a wonder the glass doesn't crack under the weight of his stare. Your pulse quickens, a flurry of nervous butterflies takes flight in your stomach, and your palms dampen with sweat as you clutch the steering wheel tightly.

Joel points at you and then to the ground at his feet, silently mouthing, "Now." He then vanishes back into the house, clearly pissed off. Fear grips you, making it daunting to leave the truck's safety. After six agonizing minutes, you gather enough bravery to step out, your breath hitching in your throat and almost making it difficult to breathe.

After hoisting the grocery bags into your arms and nudging the back passenger door closed with your foot, likely leaving a mark on the polished metal, you make your way to the porch with unsteady steps. The door stands slightly open, and you gently push it wider. As you spin around to close it, a hand reaches over your shoulder and slams it with such force that the house seems to shake. Startled, you yelp loudly as Joel grabs your arm firmly and pulls you into the kitchen, his long strides causing you to stumble over your feet.

"Sit your fuckin' ass down," he practically barks, pulling out a kitchen chair and slams it down. He pushes you toward the chair so forcefully that the grocery bags tumble down around you. As you land on the wooden chair, the impact from Joel's shove nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

He stands over you from your seated position, towering and nearly trembling with fury. Joel's hands are clenched into tight fists, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He scratches his jaw and paces, a low growl emanating from deep within his chest as the intensity in his eyes burns fiercer. You close your eyes, sitting motionless, bracing yourself.

"Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?!" He bends down to scream in your face, his face contorted in a way that makes him look scary and so different from the usual angry Joel you normally see. This Joel was drowning in rage. His eyes were nearly black and the lines on his face deepened as he snarled in your face. "You fucking ANSWER ME!" One hand grabs the back of your hair and yanks your head back so fast that your nerve spasms, a shrieking cry escaping your lips. His other hand grabs your face and squeezes your jaw so tightly that pain blossoms throughout your gums.

"Stop, stop, stop, please, stop!" You're babbling in his face, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from the intense pain in your scalp, neck, and jaw. You could barely catch a breath from how hard you're crying. "Da-Daddy, p-please!" You're grabbing on both of his forearms, nails digging deep through his long shirt, no doubt leaving indentations.

Joel only grunts lowly, his breath heavy and fast. His hands squeeze tighter, and he roughly shakes your head, loving the way your face scrunches up at the pain he's causing. Then, he forcibly pushes your head away, releasing his hands from your knotted hair and your already bruising jaw. Tears streaming down your face, you draw your knees up to your chest for comfort and hesitantly reach for the back of your head, while your other hand softly caresses your jaw. Your eyes are wide, reflecting a state of shock and fear. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his frown growing more pronounced as you quiver uncontrollably.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flings it towards you. It strikes your knees and tumbles to the floor, unfolding just enough to reveal its barren interior.

"You take my fuckin' truck," Joel says in a low voice, trembling with anger. He steps back, his boots thudding on the floorboards. "You take my fuckin' money." At this point, you're nearly hyperventilating, silently cursing yourself for such a foolish act and expecting him to accept it. He goes on, his tone grave, "And you sneak out without telling me, huh? What, you want more freedom than what I'm giving you here?"

The anger that Joel feels is indescribable. It's coursing through his veins like heroin, poisoning his blood and gradually taking over his body. He doesn't know what to do, or even think. All that he can do is react. How stupid of you to think this was okay. How mind-numbingly idiotic it was of him to expect you to follow his rules and obey him like a good girl. As he looks down at you like smeared shit at the bottom of his shoe, there seems to be only one option left.

Before you can react, Joel has seized your arm and pulled you up from the chair, nearly dislocating your shoulder. His footsteps are long, resounding, and forceful. Tears continue to flow as he hauls you up the stairs. You stumble on each step, crying and sobbing, while you try to keep pace with him. Your knees are banging against every edge as Joel practically drags you up the steps.

"Da-Dad-dy!" Choking on your tears, you can barely see anything. Your vision is blurry, and your hearing is muffled. Every nerve in your body is on fire. "Pl-Please, Jo-el!"

"Get up, girl! C'mon. Get your fuckin' ass up!" He grunts through labored breaths, jaw clenching tightly as he drags your body by the arm up the last step. "I've had 'nough of you."

Suddenly, he kicks your bedroom door open, your heartbreaking cries falling on deaf ears. Your body is shoved into your room with enough force to make you collapse onto the ground. You're gasping for air, your fingers slick with sweat as they frantically claw at the rug, desperate to find something to hold onto.

Joel stands motionless in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you without a trace of emotion. Thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him like a tsunami. Make her hurt. Make her cry. Make her beg for mercy. He retrieves a key from his front pocket and observes as you pathetically curl into a ball on the floor, your shoulders shaking violently while you cry into the carpet. His hand rests on the doorknob. Before leaving, he speaks in an unexpectedly gentle tone, "Until I believe you've learned your lesson, you're going to stay here, and you're going to think about what you did."

Then, he departs and forcefully closes your door. Amidst your heavy sobs, the sound of the bedroom door lock engaging is audible. Glancing over your shoulder weakly, you notice the doorknob has been altered from before. Gone is the twist lock, replaced now by a keyed lock mechanism.

The epiphany strikes with overwhelming force. Enclosed by a door that's locked and windows sealed shut, you find yourself imprisoned with no means of escape.

Unaware of how much time has passed, you stay on the ground, curled up, emotionless. The tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty stare. The night has already set in, shrouding your room in darkness from top to bottom. Joel's footsteps are audible everywhere, hardly silent. Whenever he approaches your door, there's a halt, a moment of stillness, and then the sound of his steps resumes. Undoubtedly, he was listening with his ear against the door. Each approach brought a heaviness to your heart and a sinking sensation in your stomach.

The aroma of garlic sizzling in oil drifted from the kitchen, prompting your mouth to water and your stomach to knot with hunger. You hadn't eaten since the night before. The clatter of pots and pans, either being used or stored away, brought tears to your eyes. "Stupid, stupid girl," you chide yourself. It was foolish to attempt a kind gesture for Joel, only to have it go horribly wrong. It was a rash and impetuous move. Now, he'll never forgive you for this. This realization has you weeping once more into the spit-soaked, tear-stained rug.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you fail to notice the door has come unlocked and now stands ajar, the hallway light spilling in and illuminating your huddled form. Joel pauses in the doorway, a plate of food in hand, and tuts softly at the pathetic sight before him.

"Sit up," he commands, making his way deeper into the dimly lit room. The sound of his rough voice had your entire body tensing and your quiet cries immediately halting. When you remain still, Joel becomes irritated and prods your hip forward with his muddy boot, leaving a mark on the pristine white dress you wore especially to surprise him. "I said, get your fuckin' ass up, little girl. Don't make me tell you again."

With trembling limbs, you gradually unfold yourself, grimacing as your muscles burn. Your scalp, jaw, neck, knees, and arms feel as though they are on fire. After hours of immobility and neglecting your aching body, the pain strikes you with overwhelming force.

Joel squats before you, emitting a soft grunt as his knees pop and his lower back tightens. In silence, he extends the plate of food between you both: parmesan garlic chicken, green beans, and red roasted baby potatoes. The aroma and appearance make your eyes widen, your mouth water, and your stomach rumble.

The moment your fingertips graze the plate's underside, Joel pulls it away and sets it on the ground. Your faint smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as you meet his stern gaze. He remains silent, his stare unwavering. Looking down at the plate, it dawns on you that there's not a fork, knife, or even a spoon in sight.

"Eat," he commands, his voice a quiet murmur. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes unblinking, his facial expression shifting subtly. The softness and tenderness that were once reserved for you have vanished. He never used to look at your mom the way he looked at you. But now, his gaze is identical. It leaves you feeling sorrowful and heartbroken.

Confused and very much embarrassed at not knowing what to do, you hesitantly reach out to grab the chicken with your bare hand. Joel's hand roughly clamping around your wrist and shoving it away prevents you from doing so. There was a surge of panic that shot through you like a shotgun blast.

"No," he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It's clear he's losing patience. Joel has no time for games. "Bend down… and eat," he commands.

There's a tense, heavy moment of silence as you thoroughly think about what he's telling you to do. Warmth spreads throughout your neck and rises to your cheeks before settling on the tips of your ears. Your heart plummets to your stomach. So, like an obedient little dog, you lower your head down to the plate on the ground and begin eating.

Joel smiles at your obedience, one hand gently petting your head and tenderly massaging the tendrils of hair connected to your scalp that he viscously yanked. He softly quiets you when you flinch and unintentionally whimper. He maintains the gentle, affectionate strokes of his hand through your hair, even gathering it into a ponytail to help you eat more comfortably.

"That's a good girl," he softly praises, settling onto his knees in front of you and using his other hand to gently stroke your jaw. "See how easy it is to obey Daddy? You just needed some of Daddy's tough lovin', huh?"

Is this what it was? Some tough love? You've never encountered that before, much less experienced it. Since you were never a problem child, discipline was seldom necessary. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to be a good girl for Joel. Maybe this tough love is what will help you do better and learn from your stupid mistakes.

As you continue eating, Joel finds himself slowly loving the sight of you eating like a fucking mutt in front of him. Knowing that he can push you so far as to do something like this excites him. His hand tightens in the makeshift ponytail he has your hair in, and his eyes darken. Letting out a whimper that was muffled from your food, you make sure to not complain about it to Joel. He was already upset with you from earlier and you really don't want to push it further.

"That's enough," he declares, his hand in your hair stopping your movements while his other hand takes your plate away, leaving half of the food untouched and uneaten. His hand pops you on the cheek when he hears you protesting, a pained yelp escaping your slobbered lips. He forces your head up to be eye level with his. "Listen to me, little girl. From this moment forward, Daddy will decide what you eat, when you eat it, and how much you can eat. Have I made myself clear?" His voice's tone is so authoritative that it holds no room for argument, not that you could muster one even if you wished to.

Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding within his grasp. Choosing not to protest was wise. Should this behavior be part of your punishment or his version of tough love, you certainly wouldn't want to witness him at full strength. Merely the thought was enough to make you shudder with fear once more. Joel was an incredibly strong man, often unaware of his own strength. He could break your jaw with one squeeze--he almost fucking did it this morning.

Joel mocks your nod. "Good," he hums, offering you a pleased smile as he lovingly strokes the apple of your cheeks. "Now, come to the bathroom so Daddy can brush your teeth."

Leaving your half-finished plate behind, you follow Joel into the hallway. You trail behind him aimlessly, your steps shaky and limping. He notices but chooses not to comment. It's for the best, a silent reminder that such consequences will recur if you act carelessly again.

Joel opens the door to the main bathroom and guides you inside with care. He lifts you with ease under your arms and sets you down on the countertop. A small squeak escapes from your chest, a sound that Joel finds adorable. He flashes a subtle grin and begins to wet your toothbrush, dabbing on the toothpaste. He shuffles between your thighs and thumbs your mouth open to start brushing your teeth. His actions brought you comfort, making you feel cherished and cared for. Even though you could have done it yourself, witnessing Joel display his nurturing side was touching. You longed to see more of this aspect of him, silently promising to be well-behaved with every passing minute.

"Alright, babydoll," he says as pats your thighs lovingly and rinses off your toothbrush after instructing you to lean over the sink and spit out the minty froth. "Now, get your butt back to your room and lean over the bed, panties off."

Joel notices the confusion spark in your eyes before it manifests in the furrowing of your brows. Your lips part to question him, but the words become stuck in your throat as his eyes darken and he gives a subtle shake of his head, tutting softly to himself.

"And here I thought you were goin' to start listening to me," he lets out a dark chuckle before invading your space with his strong chest pressing against yours. The force of the action causes your back to crash against the mirror, your head striking the glass while the sink spout presses into your lower back, causing discomfort and pain.

He bares his teeth just barely as he gets in your face, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowing, the storm brewing wildly in his eyes. Joel laughs gruffly as your eyes widen and you put your hands up in front of your body against his chest to protect yourself from his unpredictability. Oh, how cute. You were shaking under his hold like a frightened little bunny. Joel presses you harder against the mirror, no doubt forcing the sink spout deeper into your back. He grumbles pleasantly under his breath. He was causing this terrible fear clear as day on your face. The blooming bruises on your body are caused by his hands. The finger shaped bruises looked like a work of art on your delicate skin.

"Oh, babydoll," his breath fans across your face. He gives you a mocking pout, hushing you softly when the tears spill. "You're makin' it real hard not to paint that ass black and blue, you know that?"

Your bottom lip trembles and your body quivers, eyes shutting tightly as you mentally prepare yourself for Joel's next action. Tears spill and disappear underneath your aching jaw. He wipes them away at first, but when they keep sliding down, he wipes a tear-stained thumb across your lips before pushing the appendage deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"D'you taste that?" He asks you so quietly that you almost missed it. He's looking at his thumb between your lips and bites down on his own. Joel gazes into your wide eyes, which stare back at him as if he were the boogeyman. In a way, he is. "That's the taste of fear, sweetheart. Don't it taste fuckin' delicious?" The laugh he lets out is depraved, deranged, and delirious. With his thumb still in your mouth, he uses the other fingers to wrap under your chin before using that grip to force your head to move up and down roughly. "That's what I thought. Now, I ain't going to ask you again, babydoll. Take your ass back to your room and take off your fuckin' panties. When I get back, you better be leaning over the edge or so fuckin' help me God."

The mere threat was sufficient to send you scuttling down the hallway, pushing past Joel in a rush to get to your room. He watches you do so with a sadistic smile on his face. To see you react in such a way has him so fucking hard in his jeans. He cups a hand over the thickness and squeezes. There was a brief warmth pooling in his groin, and he let out a husky moan before his hand falls away. In due time, he silently tells himself.

Shaking, stuttering breaths were muffled in the bedding. You did exactly as you were told. The tips of your toes just barely skimming the rug, you were leant over the edge of the bed with your panties pooled at your ankles. One of your hands had blindly reached across the bed to grab onto your stuffed animal to curl an arm around it and press it against your side. The only comforting thing you can have at this moment that can hopefully ease the unsettling anxiety that won't go away.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, it might have been five minutes, ten, or perhaps even an hour. You caught a fleeting sound of Joel entering the room to retrieve your plate, then he left, securing the door with a lock behind him.

Long stretches of silence enveloped you, allowing the sound of your own heartbeat to echo mercilessly in your ears. It was a fleeting moment of tranquility before Joel determined his next move. In this stillness, sleep nearly overtook you, the exhaustion from hours of weeping creeping up silently. Then, the door unlocks, knob slowly turning. The ominous creaking of your door opening has you tensing as you hold your breath.

The steady stomp of Joel's footsteps enters your room before the door is shut behind him. The sight of you in a position that he demanded from you was driving him fucking wild. Panties at your ankles and your cute ass on display, the hem of your dress stopping just at the middle of your cheeks. He can see your pussy nearly calling out for him to play with her. But he can't, not at this moment. He needs you to understand that your actions, done behind his back, were unacceptable. They were reckless and dangerous—just the thought of it is enough to make Joel feel like punching a wall over and over.

"Now, what am I goin' to do with you, babydoll?" The question is rhetorical. He knows what he's going to do to you, but you don't. Leaving you in the dark of where his mind runs wild, keeping you pure from his deranged, perverted thoughts was for your own good. He intends to maintain a safe distance to prevent any critical harm, beyond what has already been inflicted.

The sound of Joel's voice has your hips shifting, your pussy lips just barely parted to give him a show of your exposed clit poking out from the hood that protects the exposed nerve. As he gets closer, he can see your stuffed animal in a headlock under your arm. How cute and pathetic.

"I gotta say, honey," he starts talking, his voice humorless and no longer holding that warm tone he previously had when he walked in. "It was adorable you thought I was done with you tonight. I mean, you really thought Daddy locking you up here was all that he was goin' to do?"

Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, you still answered in a breathy voice, "Y-Yes, Daddy."

A smile makes its way onto Joel's face. "Yes, Daddy," he mocks your high pitched, breathy voice. The act of him doing so caused an embarrassed flush to warm your cheeks and ears. To be mocked made you feel so small. But that's what you are to Joel; this tiny, little thing that is so easy to crush in his big hand.

His groin rests against your ass cheeks, both of his hands lifting your dress higher until it pools around your upper back, further exposing your naked body to his eager eyes. The rough denim of his jeans and the cold metal of his zipper pressing into your backside made you hiss under your breath. Joel's hands hold onto your hips, forcing your body further onto the bed until your toes are no longer skimming above the rug, your feet now only dangling a few inches up.

"That's more like it," he grunts quietly, biting down on the plump flesh of his body limp when he sees goosebumps erupt on your soft skin. So, so fucking soft and untainted. As one hand pins you down at your lower back, his other hand gently rubs across your left ass cheek. Barely glancing at you to make sure you're prepared for what's to come, Joel mutters, "Brace yourself, sweetheart."

Then, he thwacks his palm across your skin. The force and strength of the smack made you cry out in surprise and pain. He smacks your other cheek with the same force. He does it again and again, back and forth, back and forth. Your legs kick behind you as fiery warmth blossoms along your backside. Your arm squeezes tighter around your stuffed bunny as you blindly reach a hand behind you to cover your bottom. Joel was quick to grab your wrist to pin it at your lower back.

He doesn't fucking stop spanking you. Not even when his own handprint is starting to show on your skin. He grunts with every thwack of his hand across your sensitive flesh. The cries that are forced out of you were music to his ears. Your backside feels like it's on fire underneath his wide palm; he doesn't know when to stop or ease up. The frustration and irritation from earlier were slowly making their way into Joel's mind.

"Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Fuckin'." Smack. "Girl."

Joel grunts like an animal as the smacks happen in quick succession. You're wailing into the covers, feet kicking weakly as you try so desperately to wiggle away from him. He won't stop. The pain is indescribable. It burns so badly, throbbing non-stop and feeling like a million needles are being stabbed into your skin. Your throat hurts from your pain-filled wails that are muffled into your bedding.

He's panting heavily and sweating. Wiping a forearm across his forehead, Joel removes his hands from your body, tilting one hand to the side to observe your marked ass. His handprints are on your skin, clear as day. He can feel the blazing heat radiating from your backside. But again, he's not done with you yet. And he tells you just that.

"Quit your fuckin' whinin'," he orders, both hands lowering to his thick leather belt to undo it from the hoops of his jeans. "We're not done until I say we're done." He folds the leather and snaps it together, the resounding sound causing you to cry harder in the sheets.

You learned your lesson. You know that you've been a bad girl. You know this. But the words fail to emerge, your voice and mouth unable to coordinate effectively enough to communicate with Joel. A tumult of emotions rages through your violently trembling body: fear, confusion, intense pain, and fatigue.

Folded, thick leather smacking against tender, angry skin is what forces a scream to erupt from your throat. With your bunny discarded, both hands desperately grab at your bedsheets to pull you away from Joel and his offending belt. You can faintly hear him sucking his teeth before one of his hands roughly yanks you back down by the back collar of your dress.

"Cry as much as you want to, babydoll!" he shouts through your pained wails. Then, the belt strikes across your ass repeatedly. Joel was barely giving you time to breathe through your tears and dribbling snot and drool that slides down your chin. "Kick all you want! Daddy ain't stopping!"

He lowers the position of the belt so that he can strike the back of your thighs as well. You're sure that after tonight, you won't be able to sit or speak for a very long time, for your vocal cords are nearly shattered from how hard and loud you were screaming, and Joel's hands and belt are bruising your backside. You're wishing that this torture will end. You're wishing that Joel will stop and hold you while you cry in his arms like a blubbering baby. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"Stop!" You screamed and screamed, both hands desperately reaching back to cover your backside. Everything burns. Everything feels like it's on fire. The pain only intensified when Joel tossed his belt aside and resorted to the palm of his hand again. "Please, please, stop, p-please!" Your speech now slurred and unrecognizable from thick tears, your hands claw at Joel's wrist, his hand wrapped around both of your own wrists to pin at your lower back again.

Only then does Joel snap out of it.

He's breathing so heavy that an innocent bystander would think that he was having a panic attack. Joel looks down at his creation and finally pulls his hand off of your wrists. Your arms go limp at your sides; you don't even bother trying to cover yourself. He looks at your backside, his thumb gently wiping away some blood that dotted around broken skin that was caused by his belt. He hums thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking your blood from the tip. In a day or two, your ass was going to be badly bruised and marked, all thanks to him.

"Such a sweet girl," he whispers, leaning down to press his nose behind your ear and inhaling deeply. Your body violently shakes underneath his chest. His groin is crushed against your horribly bruised ass, the pressure of it making you cry weakly, all the energy suddenly drained from you once he stopped abusing your ass.

Glancing down at his hard cock, now thick and pressing uncomfortably into his thigh, Joel decided now would be a good time for you to make him feel good. Though he knows you're not up for it, he doesn't fucking care. A darkness lurks within his mind, akin to an alter ego that commandeers his body, a monster in its purest form. This other facet of him is sadistic, vicious, and relentless. With you, it's so easy to fall into this second body. It's addicting. He can't stop, even if he knows this is wrong.

With a hoarse grunt, Joel grabs the back of your arms and yanks you off the bed to drop you down onto your knees. With a hand under your chin to keep your face pointed up to him, his other hand unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his underwear. He pushes both offending fabrics mid-thigh, sighing with satiated relief when his cock slaps up, nearly poking you in the eye.

You could hardly pay attention. Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, swollen lips parted to inhale and exhale shakily. You were so deep in another world that Joel had to roughly shake your head to bring you back down the earth. Unsure of why you feel so dizzy, you tried focusing on the pain in your backside that was still throbbing relentlessly, the burning fire now sizzling into a numb sensation.

"Tongue out," Joel demands roughly as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand as the other holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip against your lips.

Hearing his order, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes and do as you're told. You don't even know what exactly you're doing, but all you can hear in your mind is be a good girl and listen to him. Your eyes almost cross as you get a better look of his cock, and they widen comically. God, Joel was really long and thick. You wondered if all men were this size. It was intimidating to look at. You don't know if even less than half could fit in your mouth, let alone inside of you. Joel observes the revelation in your eyes and drops his left into a wink.

"Careful with your teeth, baby," his voice was gruff and strained, his mushroomed tip throbbing against your lips as his heavy balls tighten from the warmth pooling intensely in his groin. "Yeah, just like that."

His praise was something that you desperately needed tonight. Forgetting about the unrelenting abuse you endured on your backside, you can make it up to him by showing you that yes, you really are a good girl, and you will listen to him and do what you're told.

When you take too long to give Joel what he wants, he decides to take charge in one way that he knows how. Both hands grab either side of your head, forcing it to stay still as he shoves half of his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sputtered sloppily around his dick, your hands frantically fisting his jeans at his thighs. He grunts and groans, sweat pooling behind his neck and sliding down the line of his back.

"Goddamn," he hissed under his breath, moving his hips forward and back to start fucking your mouth with a brutal pace that has his balls slapping against your wet chin. "Born natural, ain't ya?"

Coughing and choking around his cock, you gagged and dry heaved as his thickness fills your mouth repeatedly. Spit dribbles down your chin and slides down your chest as you bite back the bile pooling in the back of your throat. Joel's breathing stutters for a split second at the sight below him. Your lips were obscenely stretched around his girth, eyes wide and glassy with thick tears just waiting to spill over. The sloppy, wet noises coming from your mouth nearly made him bust right in your mouth.

"Let me try somethin'," Joel mumbles to himself before roughly grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head all the way down until your nose and lips were crushed against his dark public hair. The contractions of your throat squeezing around his cock has him moaning gruffly at the ceiling, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in time with each moan that comes out.

Taking advantage of Joel's lax state, your nails dig into the thick meat of his thighs to push yourself off of him. His cock slips from your lips, strings of spit connecting from the enlarged tip to your puffy lips. You're coughing and dry heaving, your throat burning terribly. Joel looks down and grins wolfishly.

His hand languidly strokes his soaking cock. The sight of you struggling from his size was an image he wanted to engrave in his mind so he can watch it over and over again. He liked seeing you struggle. Hell, he fucking craves to see it again. Without giving you any time to prepare, he grabs the back of your head to force you down onto his cock once more.

The sopping wet choking sounds that are emitting from your throat are driving him insane. He wonders what would happen if he just...

Both hands roughly grab your head to yank you down until his cock goes down your throat again. This time, he keeps you there for a few, long, grueling seconds. You're sputtering wildly, eyes wide with terror as tears spill over your waterline. Your fists are weakly punching at his thighs, and you try to pull your head back, but Joel only crushes your head harder into his pelvis until your nose is pressed so deep into his pubic hair.

Joel grunts like a wild beast. "Just like that. Fuckin' choke on it." He sees your lashes flutter weakly, your eyes half-lidded and rolling into the back of your head. The lack of oxygen to your brain has your heart slowing dramatically. This is your death. Yeah, this is definitely how you're going to die: choking on Joel Miller's dick, also your mom's husband.

Suddenly, your head is pulled off and you're gasping for air like it's the last thing on earth. Your head is spinning and you're doubling over until your forehead is almost touching Joel's boots. Your throat burns and you can barely feel your tongue. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This is all your fault. You deserve this punishment. Bad girl. Bad, bad, bad girl. Slowly rocking yourself back and forth, you sniffle softly and take a weak glance up at him. A shadow almost casts over your face from where you kneeled, his long cock perfectly aligned below the ceiling light.

Joel bends down to lift you higher on your knees. His big hands gently hold your cheeks, and your eyes shut as this is the first tender touch you've felt in hours. You savor this moment, sniffling again and licking your bottom lip. Joel smiles sweetly, lowering his head to kiss your forehead, nose, and then your lips. A sweet little whimper reverberates against his lips. When he pulls away, he quietly instructs you to open your eyes, babydoll.

When you do, you're met with sweet, nice, tender Joel again. Have you really made it to the end of your punishment? Are you his good girl again? Is this really it? The moment doesn't last long. The smile on Joel's face vanishes gradually slowly. There's a sick feeling that returns back inside your stomach. This is going to be never-ending. This is your well-deserved punishment. Pain, pain, pain.

When Joel purses his lips, you flinch when a wad of spit lands on across the bridge of your nose and slides down your cheeks prettily. Your eyes open and your mouth drops. This was the most demeaning thing for him to do. Spitting on your face is a clear indication that you're nothing more than a personal toy for Joel to use. This whole entire night was of him showing you what you mean to him. The thought added a crack to your heart. All you ever wanted was to be good.

Joel's fingers filthily rub his spit all over your face, a crude smile on his face as he does so. His middle and index fingers are shoved into your mouth, the pads of his fingertips covered in his slick and are now laying against your wiggly tongue. "There we go," he breathes out, gently prodding his fingers further down your throat until they brush against your uvula, causing you to gag and sputter.

You barely have enough time to react before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and landing a smack to your cheek. It almost sends you flying to the side if it weren't for his hand holding onto the other side of your face. Joel hushes you quietly when your eyes shut tightly, fire spreading across your face.

"This is for your own good, babydoll," he whispers against your forehead, pulling away to pop your cheek again, and then landing another smack to your other cheek. He shushes your pained cries again, giving you a messy, tongue-filled kiss. You can't stop crying against his mouth, snot, spit, and tears all over your face. The anguish won't diminish. It gets stronger and stronger the more Joel breaks you apart little by little.

His hands curl into your hair, tightening into fists and yanking your head back a few inches from his face. His eyes darken as he sees the fear in your beautifully broken eyes. He spits on your face once more, trailing his eyes over the artistic splatter across your nose and cheeks. His cock, still rock hard and soaking wet, hangs out of his jeans.

Joel is a patient man. In due time, you and he will finally become one. Whether you liked it or not, you were his--his to use, his to play with, his to destroy. You don't have a voice anymore. Joel Miller broke you apart with his bare hands and left you scrabbling to pick up the pieces.

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white-fox-1415 · 3 months ago

Text

Late nights and soft saviors

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Genre: Comfort? Fluff?

Summary: Dean has a nightmare but a soft little something comes to the rescue

Warnings: none, has one curse word

A/N: somebody hold this man and tell him it’s all gonna be ok 😭

Dean and y/n had a bit of a rivalry going on to say the least. When she first moved into the bunker, on account of Bobby’s recommendation, her and Dean clashed almost instantly. She was smart and mouthy and absolutely loved correcting him and back-talking him. But Dean being the sassy man he is, often retorted with a clever comeback, building a small fued between the two hunters.

It wasn’t like they hated each other or anything. They were more like frenemies, though they’d never admit it. Some would even say there were other types of tension to be lingering between the two hunters.

It wasn’t long until y/n found out about Dean’s frequent nightmares, considering that their rooms shared a common wall. She would hear his mumbling late at night, or the sound of the tv he used to drown out his thoughts. She felt a bit sorry for him, even if she never let it show.

She was almost like Dean in that sense. Hesitant to show emotion, to show people she was vulnerable. Her heart was locked away, surrounded by a wall, just as fortified as that of the city of Jericho— impenetrable, or so she thought.

But unbeknownst to her, Dean was slowly chipping away at her walls, starting to weasel his way into her heart with every snide remark, or witty comeback, but especially the stares she pretended not to notice or return.

***

One night she was up especially late, trying to finish a book she had started a few days prior. She did in fact finish the book, and as she was returning it to the lofty stack in the corner of her room, that’s when she heard it— the pleas, the mumbles, the groans.

Dean was having another nightmare. A bad one. Y/n stood there of a moment, conflicted. She could pretend she didn’t hear anything, act oblivious, and just go to bed… or she could go try and wake Dean, maybe comfort him, make sure he was ok.

After one instinct won over the other, she began to head for her door, picking up a small stuffed teddy bear she had on her bed, one that had a lot of meaning to her. She padded over to Dean’s door and knocked. It wasn’t loud enough to wake him so she knocked louder. She heard groans and cusses on the other side of the door as the man woke from his sleep. She heard him make his way to the door so she quickly set the bear on the floor and rushed quietly back to her room.

When Dean opens the door he didn’t see anyone and was rather confused as he looked down the hall. That’s when he noticed it, the bear. “The fuck?” he mumbled as he bent over to pick it up. He recognized almost immediately, even in the dark, as he made he way back into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, just looking at the bear in his lap, playing with it a bit, moving its paws around, as he fell deep into thought.

Why’d she do that? Does she know about the nightmares? Could she hear me through the walls? Does she hear me every time? Does she pitty me? Does she care?

He sighed deeply and lied back down in bed, propping the bear up next to his face. He continued to stare at it for a bit before he hesitantly took it into his hold again, even going as far to bring it up to his face and smell it. Amber and vanilla. Smells just like her, He thought. And with that he closed his eyes pulling the bear closer to his chest, setting his masculinity to the side for a while and indulging in the comfort of a soft stuffie, something he seldom experienced in his childhood.

Before he knew it a single tear was sliding down the side of his face and dripping onto his pillow. Not long after he was reaching for his phone and typing out the simple message,

“Thank you”

before attempting to surrender himself to sleep once more. She read the message and smiled into her own pillow and she drifted off to sleep soon after.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #someone help him #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #comfort #fluff

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sonarspace · 6 months ago

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deception, nanami

content: mdni. angst. soft sex. breeding kink (? kinda) wc: 1.1k a/n: trying to get out of my writing slump but it’s bad! so here’s this…

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

nanami’s laying in your arms when he gets a call from ijichi telling him he needs to be at shibuya in an hour. and instantly you’re being filled with dread. “don’t leave,” you tell him as soon as he hangs up the phone.

but he’s already buttoning up his shirt. you huff a frustrated breath and follow him to the bathroom where he fixes his blonde locks.

“don’t go, please” you try again your voice breaking. his eyes meet yours through the mirror. your lips wobble as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. he turns around his eyes creased in worry. “darling, what’s wrong?” his voice’s sweet and soft dripping honey with every word he speaks.

“i’m scared,” you voice your worries into his chest – wetting his blue shirt with your salty tears. he tilts your face to meet his eyes. you’re quietly sobbing now – eyes red and nose turning a shade darker.

“don’t leave me,” your melancholic voice tugs at his heart. he can’t leave them when they need him the most. “i have to, it’s urgent.” he just says in return. it was hurting him to see you like this. be away from you in this state.

“no, ken, please” you drag out the word. his lips match your downturned lips. he hated not doing what you asked of him but this was different. he had people relying on him – the higher ups, his colleagues, the students, the first years…

he drops his head to yours in defeat. his fingers brush away the tears streaking your cheeks. “take me with you,” you request. “you’re pregnant,” he retorts. “so what, i can protect us,” you argue back. your technique similar to gojo’s, allows you to create an invisible barrier. the only difference was, you could include other people.

“i’m not even sure what’s happening there but i don’t wanna risk your safety.” he says placing his hand on your bump. he feels a light kick against his hand and smiles. “it’ll make you use too much cursed energy, there are too many people there,” he adds. “ken,” you’re about to say but you feel another kick – harder this time. as if telling you to listen to him.

he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. a part of him hurts as he lies “i’ll come back”.

“i love you kid,” he whispers as he places a kiss against your stomach. “i love you,” he tells you. holding your face firmly and placing a kiss against your lips — once, twice, and finally a third time. “i’m going to marry you when i get back,” he murmurs against your lips eliciting a teary laugh from your lips.

“promise,” you ask. “promise”. he vows.

but he doesn’t come back that night. or the night after. and you know it was normal for him to take a day or two for missions but the lack of texts and calls has you crying into his pillow. a text chimes from other side of the room. you get up and move quickly — shoko’s name on your screen. you feel like your heart going to jump out of your throat. this can’t be good.

shoko: i’m so sorry.

and you don’t need to read more cause your worst fear has come true. the phone slips out of your hand and hits the floor with a loud clack. you follow as your knees buckle and a weeping “no” erupts your throat.

you gasp for air through your cries. a set of arms pulls you into a hug. “i’m here, i’m here,” he whispers into your hair. “baby, i’m here.” he says again – louder this time. you calm down slightly pulling away from the embrace to see the face of the man you love so dearly.

“kento,” your voice cracks. a hand reaching up to touch his face. was he real? you feel his freshly trimmed hair prick your fingertips as your trace his face freely. his pink lips that kiss you and mark you like a canvas, his slender nose that nudges against yours playfully, & his brown eyes that never failed to take your breath away. “kento,” you say once again.

“yes, baby.” his eyes twinkle with love for you. “are you real,” you ask hazy from sleep. “i’m real,” he lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “you had another nightmare,” he cups your face and wipes away dried tears from your cheeks.

“i’m here. i’m okay. you’re okay. we’re okay.” he confirms. you sigh against his hand. his cold ring presses against your cheek and you’re reminded you’re married — have been married for a year.

you lay your head on his chest and he rubs your back comfortingly. “i was pregnant in my dream and you weren’t there”. he huffs in return. “and that’s why it’s just a dream. i’d never leave you. much less when you’re pregnant.” you smile into his chest.

“i want a baby,” you say. his body rumbles under yours with joyous laughter. “yeah?” he asks with a grin – his thumb under your chin pulling your face up to face him. “yeah,” you kiss him.

he kisses you back. his hand moves down to your neck – rubbing over your quickening pulse. you pull back and let his oversized button up fall off your shoulders. the slightly opened windows lets in a gentle breeze and hugs your body. the night sky is filled with moving pink clouds.

the sound of salty waves from outside, along with nanami’s gasping moan fills your ears as you lower yourself onto him. “ahhh,” your plushy walls are snug around his cock, making it hard for him to form a coherent thought.

before you can move too much, he flips you over. as much as he loved seeing you on top of him, he loved having you underneath him even more. loved seeing the way your eyes rolled back as he thrusts into you. the way your lips parted in moans and whines of his name.

“ken,” you whimper. he drops his head into your neck. kissing and biting at your soft skin. lolling out his tongue to soothe a bite. you wrap your arms around him. your nails dig into his back as he picks up the pace. the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter at the way his cock pushes against that sweet spot in you – turning your brain to mush and leaving your sentences incomplete.

your legs shake around his waist as you cum with a loud cry of his name. “you sure you want me to fill you up” he asks as you calm down from your orgasm. “filthy girl,” he teases when you nod with his fingers occupying your mouth. a muffled yes is all he needs to dump ropes and ropes of his seed deep into you. he pulls out his fingers from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue.

“we’re gonna make a baby,” he groans happily into your mouth.

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

#✎ luna.writes #jjk #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami fic #nanami fluff #jjk drabbles #nanami drabbles

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noobsoconfusing · 2 months ago

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‘fill the void’_ hamzahthefantastic

summary: hamzah has been busy with the channel and misses you so much, so when you finally have time together, you kinda make it up to him.

warning: sub!hamzah, guided masturbation, lowkey cum eating, kinda gross, fluff and praise.

>_<

hamzah’s right leg bounces up and down in a desperate manner, erratic and anxious.

brown eyes shaky and glossy as he anticipates your company, your mere existence next to his. he bites his lip hard enough to wince but not that hard to draw blood.

as the elevator is taking way too long for his liking, he rolls his eyes and practically sprints up the stairs.

bad idea, oh god. –he thinks to himself, slowing down his pace as he gets to the third floor. two more floors to reach your shared flat.

the anticipation grows inside his belly, excitement even, to finally see you after such a long day. fuck, he misses you. badly. so badly.

as he fumbles with the keys, a groan escapes his lips when his hands start shaking. open, open, please just open. he mentally begs.

fucking finally, the door opens and hamzah shuts it closed as he enters, looking for you desperately, like a lost puppy looking for its owner.

“y/n! i am home!” he announces.

red and blue quickly make their way out of their shared bed, snuggling up onto hamzah’s legs, showing how much they missed their cat dad. no response from you, whatsoever.

“hey little guys, where’s mom, huh?” knowing he wont get an answer back, hamzah pets his cats and continues looking for you.

as he gets into your shared room, he sighs in relief. there you are.

though you can’t see him, as you quickly type something on the keyboard, sitting on the desk that faces the wall. you’re wearing his headphones, and he then thinks you might be doing college work or just being functional.

he sneaks behind you, and pauses for a moment. waiting to see if you can feel his presence. but as you’re too carried away by whatever the fuck you’re doing, you don’t.

“woah!” you whine when hamzah snatches the headphones off your head. quickly, you turn around on the chair to face your boyfriend. a big smile forms on your face. “hello!” you say.

hamzah pouts, “thought you weren’t home.” he says, pulling your body effortlessly off the chair so you can stand in front of him. “i missed you so fuckin’ much you have no idea.” he admitted

“hey, i missed you too.” you murmur as his body melts with yours in a tight hug.

you can feel how he inhales your scent, his hands slide to your waist too, gripping so hard you think it might bruise. he groans into the hug, a desperate sound erupting from his throat. and then you know whats up.

“you okay, love?” you ask, trying to pull away to face him but he grips tighter, audibly protesting for you to just stay there with him.

“need you. that’s all.” his voice sounds soft, still low and deep per usual. but you get to hear the smallness of his words, the warm sound of need.

“it’s fine, need you too…” you quietly admit, not breaking the hug still.

and the scene is just weird. how you two stand in the middle of the room, embracing each other and balancing as you try not to lose yourself and fall on the floor from how hard he hugs you

“bed, please?” he asks after a moment.

you nod. “yeah, bed.”

for the first time, he breaks the hug but only to quickly get rid of his shoes, he takes off the beanie he was wearing and pulls your hand so you can lay on the bed with him.

“you’re very warm, you feel good?” you ask, a tone of worry sliding out of your question.

his cheeks are flushed and eyes teary, he looks so stupidly good though, something about his needy image invites you, attracts you even more.

“i feel good now that i’m with you.” hamzah holds your hand in his, bringing it up to his face and just keeping it there.

“love you so much, yeah?” you say, caressing his features and letting him lean into your touch.

cozy. very cozy.

“get closer, please.” he pleaded, and when you didn’t move as fast as he would’ve liked, he took matters into his own hands. his hands gripped your hips, pulling them towards his own body, the space between you both nonexistent.

he kissed your neck desperately, hungrily, almost like he was starving.

“so fuckin’ pretty, ma.” he breathed out, a whine catching up inside your throat. that pet name always made you fuzzy inside.

“are you sure you’re okay, hamzah?” you were worried by how he was behaving. not worried in a bad manner, but surprised.

it seemed that now, the words had vanished from his brain, he acted completely out of impulse.

“mmhm, yeah.” he shifted on the bed, placing his leg over yours. “just… really fuckin’ need you right now… always do.” he kissed your shoulder and you shivered at the feeling of his lips on your body.

each time felt like the first time.

“tell me, hamzah.” your voice came out like a whisper, but it was fine.

his eyes opened and stared at you, the vague lighting of the room felt almost painful as it hit his sight.

“what?” big hazy eyes penetrating your figure, he almost wanted to swallow your image, engrave it onto his brain.

you gulped. closeness feeling way too intense now. you liked it.

“tell me what you need me to do.” he groaned at your words, licking his lips almost instinctively.

he was nervous all of sudden.

“i- i don’t know.” hamzah felt so small, so braindead.

every single time he was with you, he felt as if some switch inside his brain turned off, leaving you all the thinking work.

“i think you do know, yeah.” your hand traveled to his cheek, all the way down to his neck, and you let it rest there.

you felt him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“can you- uh, …please?” so fucked, that’s how he felt. you had barely done anything more than just exist, and yet he was fucked. how pathetic.

“hey, hey, words.” you tighten the grip on his neck, not enough to choke, just enough to feel his blood flowing through the veins.

he whined just so beautifully.

“y/n… p-please…” his lower lip trembled and you knew what he wanted. still, you waited for him to tell you. “can i kiss you?” please please say yes.

a smile appeared on your face and you nodded slowly. so tempting.

“sure.” finally, you thought.

he wasted no time, cupping your face with his big hands, and getting to taste your lips after what felt like ages.

oh how soft, how delicate. he melted right then and there, some part of his mind became mush, and all he could do was keep kissing you, it was messy, so desperate.

however, you started feeling needy too. a feeling so complex to understand. a feeling only hamzah could fill.

like an emptiness inside that you knew only he could fill up.

hamzah’s tongue pressed between your lips and you parted them, allowing him in. you couldn’t help but giggle at the feeling, at how he was practically desperately grinding his hips onto you without shame.

this man, you swore, couldn’t kiss you without getting his dick hard, and that was just the effect you had on him.

“oww, f-fuck, ‘s good” he breathed out, a whine almost. “you’re so pretty, i could eat you.” he said, his hands moved up and down your torso, feeling you up in such a hungry manner.

“damn…” you said quite surprised at his words.

as you were starting to feel not enough contact, you shifted on the bed, breaking the kiss for a moment, hamzah’s eyes stared at you worried, afraid he might’ve done something you didn’t like.

“wha-?”

“hold on, don’t be desperate.” you giggled, kindly pushing hamzah back on the pillows and straddling him.

“can’t help it, sorry…”

he groaned when you sat on his lap, your body perfectly pressing his.

“love you so much, y’know that? love every single thing about you, pretty boy.” your hands found support on his shoulders, he enjoyed this position so much, he got to see your face and at the same time found a nice good friction.

“god i love you, i love you, love you so m-much.” his hands gripped your hips once again, and he thrusted up to feel you. the hardness inside his sweats was painful, and only you could help him out with it. he closed his eyes when you grinded down too, your core pressing with him oh so perfectly.

“open.” you said, soft voice made him melt.

hamzah opened his mouth, eyes closed still, his cheeks so red and tongue wetting his lower lip.

you shook your head with a smile, letting an airy laugh slip past your lips. god he was so fucking cute like this.

“your eyes, silly, i meant open your eyes.”

“oh…” he giggled nervously, a new side of him you didn’t quite know about he had just showed. “sorry, baby…” he pulled up to kiss your lips once again, a peck this time.

“it’s okay, you’re pretty.”

fuck, hamzah could dry hump you for eternity. his hips were kinda tired, he wanted you to do the work for him, however, he couldn’t let you, he didn’t wanna be a bother. though, he wasn’t.

“wanna make you cum..” you said breaking the comfortable silence. not very much of a silence, since his moans would constantly be adorning the space surrounding you.

“j-just… do it- please, please i’ll do anything, i promise…” hamzah pleaded once again. it was weird. so cute though, you loved when he did that. that thing with his eyes, the lust, the love.

his hips began to stutter, was he close from just humping?

“gonna take these off, okay?” you said, asking for an already given permission.

he nodded so fucking fast you thought his head was gonna fall off his neck.

hamzah admired your actions, how you got off his lap to pull his sweats off, and he just let you do it. he felt like putty, like something maleable for you to play with. he liked feeling that way.

“pretty. very pretty.” you praised his bulge, taking your time to take his briefs off. almost like you wanted to tease him.

“s-stop…” he felt nervous. even if you had seen him plenty of times, still got nervous when you praised him.

“want me to stop?” you asked, attentively. your eyes scanned his figure, looking for any discomfort. you found any.

“no! no! please j-just keep going!” you took that as a cue to start. “fuck!” a high pitched moan left his soul.

his eyes rolled back when your flat hand placed over his clothed boner, and an idea popped into your head.

“do it yourself.” you bluntly said.

his eyes opened wide, looking worried and confused. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“i want you to do it, hamzah. please yourself, come on.” you explained better.

“b-but…”

“shh, i know you can do it, yeah? you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? so pretty for me, so sweet, so obedient… c’mon.”

he groaned again, his cock twitching inside his briefs as you praised him once again. he nodded slowly, feeling dizzy all of sudden.

shaky hands took over, hamzah slipped his dick out of his underwear and shakily touched the leaking tip. fuck, he felt so stupid, almost like all his self-pleasing knowledge had been forgotten all of sudden.

“mmhmm, shit..” he cursed under his breath when it twitched again, leaking this ridiculous amount of precum just at the thought of you watching him jerk off.

he could feel your sight on him, so expectant.

“go ahead, love.” you encouraged him, sitting closer to him, your hand on his thigh. he shivered at the touch.

“o-okay, gonna start now..” he felt as if he needed your permission, which you had given him already.

his hand wrapped around his shaft, it felt slippery and wet from all the stimulation that kissing and humping you had given him. he moaned, satisfied. his thumb circled around the head, sliding easily, and then, when his hand tightened, he stroked all the way down.

“oh god, god, oh f-fuck, y/n?” it felt so surreal. he had jerked off infinite times before this, why was he so fucking sensitive now?

your hand caressed his thigh. “yeah?”

“n-nothing.”

“keep going, you’re doing very good.” you moved closer to kiss his temple, lovingly and gently.

hamzah stroked up, and then down again. he was going at a very steady pace, trying his best not to cum quickly, since he wanted you to know how much he could handle.

not much.

“gonna tell me what has you so needy?” you asked all of sudden. and then, hamzah thought it was rather interesting to have a conversation while he was pounding it.

“uh…i- i think it’s just w-work,” he managed to reply. “been away all week..” he added after a groan, slowing down his movements.

“don’t stop.” you warned, moving your hand to engulf his own, as you helped him jerk off, steadying his shaky moves. “missed me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, a lot.” mhmm. “missed y-your voice a-and you… and your touch and, and this…” his eyebrows knitted together, he opened his mouth to moan but it was silent when you made his hand stop. “p-please, keep going…” he begged.

“you do it, love.” you said, letting his own hand move and the other hand gripped the sheets so hard you thought he was gonna rip them apart.

the wet sounds of hamzah’s skin, the lewd sounds of his hand sliding up and down his dick filled the room. it made you unbelievably worked up seeing him so desperate. it was very pretty.

he was starting to jerk off quicker, the speed alarming you. short moans came out of his throat, curses too.

“ah, ah, ah- shit! wanna cum… gonna-, c-can i?” his movements erratic and inconsistent, the glistening clear fluid coating his hand entirely from how messy he had been.

he had been so good, waiting all week for you. even if he was away filming and you were busy with college. he had been patient and waited until you both could get intimate. so good.

“cum, hamzah, be good for me, okay?” you squeezed his thigh again, giving him reassurance.

he moaned loudly, his breathing stopped, it caught up on his throat.

“wanna fill you up, god, wanna fill you up so bad, s-so bad..” he rambled slurring his words.

inside his mind, the image of him filling you up with his warm cum. it always helped him reach a decent, more than good orgasm.

your thighs pressed together and your eyes widen at his words. you bit your lower lip, anticipating his release. a small, needy whine escaped from your lips.

hamzah’s free hand looked blindly for yours, awaiting to hold onto something while he let himself go. you linked your hands and he then, only felt like he could cum.

“o-oh fuck! y/n, y/n!” there we go, his low voice carried out a cry, so pathetic. he kept stroking, wanting to let out all the built up cum he had been accumulating all damn week. “owww…” he sobbed.

hamzah’s shaky hands let go of his shaft and he opened his eyes slowly. he looked down at the mess he had made. a puddle of cum settled on his tummy, part of the sheets and his hands.

you giggled, snapping him out of his trance. hamzah looked at you with droopy eyes, tired and sleepy. he smiled lazily. silently thanking you for everything you did for him.

“y/n, i love you.” he said after a while of just trying to catch his breath.

you took his hand, the one that had cum all over, and held it up. he looked at you anticipating, those big brown eyes staring directly at your soul.

then, you did it. you licked his fingers, tasting him in your mouth. his eyes widened, the sight of you practically eating his cum made him warm all over. the knot inside his tummy started to tighten once again.

“oww… you’re gross.” he playfully said scrunching up his nose. blatantly lying. he found it hot.

“nah, you are gross, look at this mess!” you pointed at the messy sheets. hamzah rolled his eyes and sighed, tired.

“your fault.” he giggled.

kinda your fault for how fucking adorable you were. your fault for making hamzah so stupidly horny. your fault for making him love you so much.

“need to clean you up, though.” you were going to get up and look for wipes but he held your hand, dragging you back in the bed with him.

“stay with me.” he said, looking at you with those eyes he knew you loved. persuading you into just laying there. next to him.

you couldn’t say no to him, not ever. so you gave in. you threw yourself on the pillows and held his hand. your breathing synced with hamzah’s.

realisation hit you then. you leaned up to peek and held a laugh when you saw the image in front of you. hamzah’s hand gripped yours as he felt you moving. you blinked.

“your dick is still out.”

post nut clarity hit hamzah too, however he was too calm and comfy to do anything about it.

“yeah, i know..”

“okay.” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. he leaned his on yours too, “i love you”

“mhmm, love ya’ so fuckin’ much too, ma, so much, you don’t even imagine…” hamzah snuggled closer to you, the warmth comfiness of your body next to his calmed his nerves.

comfortable silence filled the room, as your tender love filled the void.

>_<

sorry this took so long and sorry this sucks but i smoked some weed and kinda just vomited words and this came out bye

#slushy noobz #slushynoobz #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader #hamzahsmut #slushy virus #slushy smut

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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I'm just throwing out an idea while attending to my garden of boundless wips but just imagine the compound getting attacked and the one area that's the most damaged is the lab. Hackers want to steal all the Stark technology and they stop at nothing, waiting for the team to leave before they destroy the building, blowing the structure till it crumbles. The only one still remaining in the building is the lab tech.

The jet nears the compound; Tony and Steve are already suited up again while Sam adjusts his wings, Nat and Clint armed and ready to go.

Everyone but Bucky.

"Tony was anyone still in the building?" His face is filled with horror, staring at the smoke emitting from the areas that were hit, his heart hammering against his chest.

"My lab tech, y/n, she was still working when we left" Tony ran a hand over his face and the color drains from Bucky's cheeks.

"WHERE IS SHE" Bucky does everything in his power not to lose control, snapping back into soldier mode and strapping his weapons, shoving past Steve so he can jump out first as they near the compound.

"Barnes its okay, we'll find her" Tony reassures him but he can't hide the confusion on his face because why on earth was Bucky this concerned over his lab assistant. They had never spoken a word to each other, in fact he didn't even realize Bucky knew you existed.

"She's pregnant!" Bucky had never sounded so scared in his life, pulling himself together to keep from breaking down.

"What-when-how-how do you know" Tony had never felt more confused in his life while the others all whip their heads around, shocked at what he'd just said.

"That's my wife"

The jet doors open and Bucky is the first one out, sprinting through smoke and flames till he gets to the worst part of what's left, debris and rubble scattered over the floor. Bodies hit the floor as he takes out anyone that he sees without a second guess. He frantically searches, holding back his emotions till he spots the broken glasses first. Dust and crumbles cement cover your unconscious form, blood dripping from you forehead and he doesn't pause to try and wake you up himself.

She's in his arms and he's rushing to the med wing while the rest of the team trail behind him, seeing as he's already killed anyone that broke in. Once your taken in, all he can do is wait, pacing up and down the hall till he's given the all clear to see you. He sits by your bed, desperately holding onto your hand, Steve being the first to check on his best friend while the the others quietly enter after.

No one breathes a word till you finally open your eyes, giving you and Bucky privacy till you're ready to see the others. He's tucked into bed with you as they enter, his arm wrapped around your tummy, rubbing soft circles with his metal hand. You weren't showing much yet, seeing as it was still early on.

"Okay, spill, when did you marry my lab tech" Tony playfully teased while Bucky blushed, hugging you closer.

"Last year" He admitted, while Steve smirked, coming over to check on you.

"Doing okay sweetheart?" The blonde asked, plopping down on a chair beside your bed, smiling when you nodded, "How's my godchild"

"You knew?" Sam wacked Steve's shoulder only to be met with a snicker from both soldiers.

"Who do you think was the bestman" The captain smiled proudly while you giggled, giving Tony a sheepish smile.

"I was gonna tell you Mr. Stark"

"When, did you think I wouldn't notice a little super soldier running around the lab?" He cocked an eyebrow with a smile.

"You knew?" Sam repeated, still deeply offended while Steve shook his head, kissing your forehead before getting up so you could get some rest. The rest of the team followed after, deciding to bombard the two of you with questions after you'd slept.

"YOU KNEW?"

"Give it a rest Sam"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Almighty Captain, Never lies, Sir Honest A Lot, YOU KNEW?"

"Sam"

"YOU KNEW?!"

I'm sorry, this wasn't the most organized drabble, just an idea I wanted to toss out into the world.

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thevoidstaredback · 7 months ago

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Damian lost. Damian has never lost before. He never loses! Losing means you're weak, and Damian is not weak. He grew up fast and strong and is only ever getting stronger!

But he couldn't kill her.

Damian had been raised to think that love of any kind was a weakness. Grandfather did not love mother because he is not weak. Mother loved father and that made her weak. Damian could not love Danyal because that would make him weak. Grandfather expected great things from him. He could not afford to be weak.

Before they were set to leave Nanda Parbat to live and train with their father, Damian and Danyal had one final lesson with Grandfather. A fight, two versus one, on the edge of the Lazarus Pits.

Danyal did not survive. He did not resurface from the depths of the green water.

Grandfather called him weak. Mother said nothing. Damian was given no time to mourn before he was handed to his father with strict orders not to tell him about Danyal.

For all Grandfather and mother had done to him, Damian could not bring himself to kill either of them. His father had taught him to love, that it was a strength.

Damian loved his mother. He realized this as he stared into her eyes, his katana at her throat, his boot pinning her down. He could not kill her.

"You are foolish, habibi." she scolded, kneeing his back and sending him rolling forwards off of her and to the edge of the Pits. "You have discarded all I taught you."

"I have only added to those lessons," he faced her, "I remember everything you have taught me."

"You lie like your father. Obviously and bluntly."

"I have never lied to you."

"Then you have forgone my lessons!"

"Because you abandoned me!"

"I sent you away to learn. I came back for you. You abandoned me."

"A mother's role to teach her child just as the father's role is to protect." Damian leveled his weapon at her again. "You left me in the care of everyone but yourself, Talia Al Ghoul. You were only ever our mother in title, not name."

Talia lunged forward, meeting Damian's sword with her own. "You know not of what you speak, foolish child!"

"I know plenty!" He pushed back, forcing her back several feet. He followed if only to get away from the edge of the Pits. "No thanks to you."

"I gave you everything, Damian."

"No. You took everything from me. You held it all as a reward out of my reach."

"You wouldn't be where you are today if it wasn't for me and your Grandfather." she stated as though it were an undeniable truth, "Whether you acknowledge it or not, we raised you."

"I raised myself."

"We taught you everything you know."

"I taught myself!"

"We made you perfect!"

"You killed half of me!"

The silence overwhelmed the fighting in the tunnels, the shouting and running and bubbling of the Pits were all drowned out. Talia's sword lowered shakily. Damian's remained raised and steady.

"You allowed Grandfather to take Danyal from me. You forced me to forget him. You killed half of me."

"Habibi-"

"No!" He was shaking now. "He was my better half, just as I was his. And you took him from me."

"Damian-"

"You took my brother from me!" He charged madly at her, rage and grief overtaking him. "I will never forgive you for that!"

Talia matched him blow for blow. "Love is weakness, habibi. That is why he died. Danyal loved you and he paid his price for it."

With a scream, Damian doubled his efforts. His blows grew weak with rage as his mother pushed him back.

Damian knew he could not kill her. Some part of him still yearned for her approval. Some part of him still loved her.

Talia's sword impaled itself into the area below his sternum, piercing the armor and skin and muscle, stabbing through to the other side, the hilt stopping it from moving ant further.

Suddenly, the silence flooded over the cavern again. A shrill ringing filled Damian's ears as his grip weakened. His katana fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor so loudly, but so, so quietly. Blood spilled from Damian's mouth with a cough.

Talia drew her sword back, throwing it behind herself as she caught her son. Love is a weakness, but that had not stopped her before. Why hadn't it stopped her now?

"Damian? Habibi?" She cradled his body on her lap, her hand turning his face to her. "My darling?"

Damian's eyes were vacant, staring into a distance unseen. He heard nothing, felt nothing. He knows what was coming next. Sleep. Release. Soon, he'd be in his brother's arms again, just like when they were children. They'd have so long to catch up with each other.

Damian closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

Storyboard Part 2

#damian doesn't survive #i pulled this out of my ass #i need to sleep #but i had to get this out of my head #all of my knowledge is from fanfics and other fanon #dp x dc #dcxdp #damian wayne #talia al ghul #part 1/2 #reunion of brothers #only because theres a lot that needs to happen but this is a good place to end #this won't be a huge thing though #sorry not sorry

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desideriumwriter · 5 months ago

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Could you write something about Hufflepuff reader studying late in the library and she realizes she has to get back to her common room before curfew. As she’s walking back Fred finds her, walks her back to her common room while flirting and talking about random things. Just something sweet and cute. Thanks love 💗💗💗

this is suchhhhh an adorable idea!! a fun one to write too! tysm for the request!! <3

wc: 1.4k

f.w. masterlist | navi

The sun was still in the sky when you entered the library to study peacefully. Various classes had slapped you with an array of tests planned this week and you felt like a bundle of nerves.

So, you chose somewhere you knew there’d be no disturbances or noise to pull your attention from your books.

The sun had completely set now, the sky outside was black. You were probably one of the only people left in the library.

It was just you, several textbooks, notes sprawled across the desk you were sitting at, and the sound of the clock ticking.

You let out a heavy breath and flipped the page of your Potions textbook. Before beginning to read over the next section, you took a look at the clock on the wall.

9:47 PM.

You had less than fifteen minutes before curfew. Maybe you could finish this next page, maybe you could start heading back to your common room.

The walk back wasn’t terribly far, but you should probably start going now if you wanted to get there before the curfew bell rang.

Rubbing your eyes and gathering your things, you quietly began on your path back to your common room.

Turning the corner down one corridor, you ended up a bit behind a tall, ginger-haired, Gryffindor boy.

It didn’t take long for him to realize you were there, he looked behind him, looked back, then did a double take.

“Merlin, you scared me. I didn’t even notice you were behind me.” He halted.

“I know you.” You stopped and narrowed your eyes at the freckled boy.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, you nodded. “Is that a good thing?” He took a few tiny slow steps towards you.

“You're the one who set off all those fireworks off on the train home last year.” You stated, Fred winced.

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing. Most kids found that end of the year prank funny, until the express was stopped for nearly an hour.

“I’m one half of it.” Fred said, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve got a brother. We er…set them off together.” He explained when he noticed your puzzled staring.

He watched nervously as your face lit up in realization.

“The twins!” You pointed, “You both tried to put your names in the Goblet the other week!”

“Oh no, you heard about that too?” He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't see the blush seeping across his cheeks.

Fred didn’t understand why he felt so flustered, he thought the incident was hilarious himself. But you were a stranger, a pretty stranger too.

“I witnessed it.” You tried to bite back any more laughter. “You had quite a mighty beard there.”

“Reckon it was better than Dumbledore's?” He brushed his fingers through his long hair.

“I’ll say you’ll be able to pull it off when you're a hundred years old.” You shrugged. “I’m assuming you’re Fred?” You guessed as you two began to walk side by side.

“I’m George.” He lied, no matter how many times he’s done it, he’s never got tired of pretending to be his twin just to mess with people. You nodded embarrassedly and looked at the ground, a twinge of guilt suddenly hit him.

“I’m kidding. I’m not George. I don’t know why I said that.” He stammered and shook his head, “You were right the first time. I am Fred.” You glanced back at him and gave him the sweetest smile. He felt like he could melt right into the floor.

“Well then, Fred, where are you coming back from?” You lifted your chin at him in a playful manner.

“Detention with Filch.” He sighed, you grimaced.

“Uck. Did they punish you because you tried to outsmart the age line?”

“Oh no, no. Being stuck in those stiff hospital beds felt like a punishment itself.” He scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyways, I got caught trying to steal ingredients from Madam Pomfreys cabinets.”

“Oh?” You let out a breathy chuckle.

And what about you? Where are you coming back from

“Just the library, I have a test in Potions tomorrow. I decided I should just try and cram in whatever knowledge I could.” You cringed at the way you began to ramble. While pushing open one of the kitchen doors it was impossible to miss Freds large frame moving in front of you to hold it open for you.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the Gryffindor tower?” You said half-jokingly as you walked into the kitchen.

“I wanted to steal a pastry from here before I went there. Shouldn’t you be getting back to yours?” He poked.

“I am, I’ve been on my way back to the basement this entire time.” You crossed your arms playfully. His smile dropped and his brows knit together.

“Basement? Your dorm is in the basement?” Fred’s face scrunched up. You just let out a small mhm and nodded, pointing to the entrance hidden behind a stack of barrels at the end of the room.

He had to tilt his head a bit to the side to see the round door hiding behind the pile of wooden barrels.

“Seems a bit crummy to put a common room down there.” Fred said flatly, yet still looking displeased at the fact your dorms would be where the dungeons also are.

“I think it’s the coziest place in the entire castle.” You shrugged; Fred let out a small noise of disagreement.

“Eh, the Gryffindor tower is the coziest. We can put Hufflepuff as a not-very-close second, yeah?” He grinned at you.

“I say you’re wrong on that.” You hummed as you tried to bite back your smile, you failed.

“Yeah? You can come see for yourself! I’ll let you have a visit and see how wrong you are!” He teased, nudging at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes. You could feel your face heat up at how his voice sounded so much flirtier than a second ago. You just prayed he wouldn’t see it. To prevent him from seeing you in your blushing state, you swiftly stepped up to the barrels.

“Er, you should probably stand back a bit.” You pointed, Freds brows knit together in confusion as he looked at the ground and back up at you.

“It…sprays you if you get the code wrong, and there's already been a few times where I’ve messed up the pattern.” You explained, Fred only nodded and took a few steps back.

You tapped the barrels in the correct rhythm and stepped back once the door began to open slowly.

From the glimpse Fred got of the Hufflepuff common room, maybe you were right. The uncountable number of plants and warm glow of the room made it look like one of the most comforting places he’s ever seen.

“It was really nice talking to you.” You told Fred as you stepped inside. “Goodnight.”

"You said you had a test in potions tomorrow, right?" Fred pipped; you stopped the door from closing with your hand.

"Yeah, we have to make a certain one by memory."

“Perfect, I've got just the thing…” He said as he dug into one of his robe pockets. “If you're not sure you made yours correctly, try and sprinkle some of this in. It’ll help.” He pulled out an extremely small sack, filled with sparkly purple powder and dropped it into your hand.

“It won’t make my cauldron explode?” You teased, knowing of him and his twins' history of blowing up the school toilets.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Even with that little smile on his face, you could tell he was actually being truthful.

“Awesome, thanks.” You grinned again, looking down and beginning to move away from the door.

Fred called out your name one more time, blocking the door from closing with his foot.

“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow night, if you’d like to chat some more?” His voice had gotten so quiet, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d really like that.” There you went again, with that sickeningly sweet smile. “‘Night, Fred.”

“‘Night.” Fred left the kitchen with a stomach full of fluttering butterflies and a grin on his face. He didn’t even bother to steal any pastries on the way out, he was too busy being excited for tomorrow night.

tell me what you thought!

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley drabble #blurb #drabble #asks #requests #hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fem!reader

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angelyuji · 5 months ago

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homelander realizing that you could make a great mom to ryan and kidnaps you, but realizes you were partly why ryan is not like him??? yeeah im thinking thoughts.

tw // physical abuse, mental/emotional abuse, implied noncon, homelander being homelander

honestly the ending got pretty sad idk why i think its cuz i feel so bad for ryan becuz he deserves so much better than shitty homelander and i wish his mom didnt die poor baby angel :( anyway....

"what have bullshit are you teaching him." john's face, twisted with wrath, was only a few inches away from you. you try to inch back, but he grabs your face. gripping your jaw with one hand, he forces you to look back at him. "answer the fucking question, (y/n). what poison- what LIES are you teaching my son?" your face hurts and you feel tears well up in your eyes.

"dad, she's not doing-" ryan tries to interject, to stop his father, but john raises a hand at him.

"don't. don't protect her. talk now, (y/n), before i really get angry." his eyes flash red and you feel your heart stop.

you sniffle, "john, i swear i'm not teaching him anything. i don’t know-” before you could finish, john backhands you, sending you to the floor. your vision goes white from the pain and you can’t help the screaming sobs coming out of you. when you look up, you see ryan in tears. you can’t even muster a smile to make him feel better.

“ryan, go to your room.”

“but-”

“NOW.” you hear ryan’s defeated steps go up the stairs. your scalp stings as john grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you up. “my son is the most powerful creation on the planet alongside me. i will not let you turn him into a pathetic, worthless worm like you. understand, (y/n)?”

his face is close to yours. you can feel his fury and you nod, afraid to speak.

"say it. say you understand."

you choke, "i understand... i'm sorry, john." his grip loosens and you collapse to the floor, shaking wth sobs. you hear him huff quietly to himself.

"so fragile and weak, why would you think ryan should be like you and not me, his father?" you look up at him and he stares down at you. you try to speak, but he holds a hand up. "i don't want to hear it." you look down. the room fills with silence, interrupted occasionally with ryan's footsteps from upstairs. "fucking pathetic." you hear him mumble. "go upstairs and collect yourself. i don't want to hear your sniffles when i fuck you tonight." he rolls his eyes and waves you away.

you stumble up the stairs and finally make it to the bedroom, collapsing into the bathroom. you sit in the bathtub, knees against your chest, sobbing.

"y/n?" a small voice comes from in front of the door. you quickly wipe your tears.

you clear your throat, "come in, sweetheart!" you watch as the door is opened, hesitantly. ryan comes in, slowly, and closes the door behind him. he looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. he sits down next to the bathroom. "you're growing up so fast..." you try to smile and brush your hand through his hair.

ryan puts his head down on the edge of the bathtub, "i'm so sorry, (y/n)..." your heart hurts and you cup his face in your hands.

"none of this is your fault, ryan. you did nothing wrong." you watch tears fall faster down his face. you pull him into a hug. the edge of the bathtub was digging into your skin, but you felt ryan relax and you knew you could be in pain for a little while longer.

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luveline · 1 year ago

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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

spencer comforts you with facts and affection alike when you worry you aren't as pretty as the girls on his team. requested here. fem!reader, 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Photographs can't accurately capture how beautiful Emily Prentiss is. JJ and Penelope are both gorgeous too, but it's Emily who startles you. Her hair a cool black colour and curled around her demure face, the line of her nose and her deep, dark eyes. Her lips, picture perfect and painted a soft pink.

The prettier you find her, the more your heart sinks.

Spencer squeezes your shoulder. It's bold for him to do so in front of his friends (his family, really), he can barely show you affection in the grocery store without turning rosy. You preen at the touch, but the feeling of insecurity remains like an irksome gnat zipping around your head.

"We didn't think we'd ever get to meet you!" Derek is saying, a casual arm thrown around Penelope's shoulders, a drink in hand.

Rossi couldn't attend and JJ felt too pregnant, bringing your party to a solid six. It still feels like a lot of people to meet at once.

You hold the flute of your glass in a nervous hand, fingers stickied by condensation. You have a feeling that you're in trouble, all these profilers assessing your behaviour, nowhere to hide. "No, I'm," —you raise your voice to hide the funny tremor that's taken hold— "so happy to meet you all, I promise I've been trying!"

"Whenever she gets time off, we're on a case," Spencer says.

Emily smiles widely at your statement. It's such an open, friendly look, it floors you. You look down at your drink and blink.

You don't know it, but the team exchanges glances at your behaviour.

"So, do you enjoy your work?" Emily asks. "Or hate it, like us?"

Hotch laughs and moves his pint glass onto a coaster. "I think it's safe to say that none of us hate our jobs."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I can't imagine how hard it is, how hard you all work," you say. Spencer's hand drifts down your back. "But you have each other."

Emily does this thing with her eyes and if you weren't in a happy relationship, you'd probably be a puddle at her feet. "Too much of each other," she says jokingly.

She's gorgeous, and Spencer sees her every single day? You're nothing compared to her. Not smart, not strong, and nowhere near as pretty. You could never measure up.

"Would you, um, excuse me?" you ask, moving your purse from your lap and onto the table.

"You okay?" Spencer asks, looking up as you stand.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just gonna use the bathroom," you say quietly. You aren't, but if you were, you wouldn't really want to broadcast that anyhow.

You try not to wobble on the way to the bathroom. The weight of five pairs of eyes follows you as you leave, four of which are trained in the art of spotting lies. Everything isn't okay, and they know that, and by extension —all the effort you made tonight? Getting your hair done, your nicest clothes, your makeup and your perfume? It might as well be a huge blinking neon sign that says you're trying really hard, and it doesn't make a lick of difference.

You sidle into a stall, pulling the lid of the toilet down with a tissue and sitting on it heavily. Elbows on your knees, you hunch your back and hide your face in your hands, breathing in the smell of bleach through quick breaths. Water drips somewhere near the sinks, the cacophony of the restaurant hushed.

You've never felt naturally pretty. With Spencer, it hasn't ever mattered. He's never given any indication that he cares. But…

"Loser," you mutter to yourself.

"Hey, Y/N?" Spencer asks, his voice bouncing off of the tile.

You freeze. "Two seconds!"

"You're not really using the bathroom," he says incredulously.

"Says who?"

Spencer laughs, his tone wry, "I know you really well, you realise? Like, better than I know anyone else on the planet."

"Then you know I'm having an authentic pee and need my privacy."

"Come on out."

The ringing of the lock slotting free is like an announcement of your embarrassment. Spencer's standing a half a foot from the doorway, keeping his distance from the no man's land that is the ladies room. You're going to use it to your advantage, only he holds out his hand expectantly. When you take it, he pulls you out of the bathroom and firmly into the restaurant hallway.

You can't escape his concern, nor his hands as they cup your face unexpectedly.

They feel as nice as they look, deft fingers pressed to your skin like you're one of his puzzles to decipher.

"What upset you?" he asks.

"Nothing your friends did, I promise."

"But something." He smooths a hand down to your shoulders. He's not quite frenetic but certainly close to it, searching for a problem he won't find on the surface. "You're insecure about something," he deduces.

You cringe bodily. "I'm not."

"What is it? Is it your necklace? It really is nice, the colour goes with your skin. It's understated."

"It's not my necklace, Spence."

"Then what is it?"

"I just…" You pull his hands from your neck and collar to hold them, looking up into his melty brown eyes wishing he weren't so hard to say no to. "Feel like you could do better."

He frowns. It's a pout, and endearing, but not what you want to see.

"I love being with you, I just think, you know, you're so handsome, and you have all these pretty friends," you say.

"You think you're not pretty?" he asks. He sounds gutted, if a little confused.

"Not like her." Your voice quivers.

The first time you got upset in front of Spencer, he wasn't sure what to do. He ended up putting an arm around your shoulder, your brand new boyfriend out of his depth. You've both had some practice at comforting one another now, and any hesitance Spencer held is gone. He wraps his arms around you like he's afraid you'll fall over, the crease of his stressed brow smushing against the side of your face.

"Don't think that. Why would you think that?" he asks quietly.

"I know I'm not pretty like some girls," you say, surprised by the ferocity of his reaction.

"You don't know that, because it's not true. You're beautiful." He squeezes your side between his fingers, something contemplative about the way his thumb curls upward. "Do you know how many books I've read?"

"Thousands."

He hums. A hand grasps at the back of your neck. "Thousands of books. I know so much, especially about the human body. I know that falling in love can make some people feel the same effects as cocaine. Staring into their eyes can synchronise your heartbeats." He encourages your head back. "Butterflies are adrenaline and when I look at you I can't get them to stop, even if I know it's chemical." Spencer's eyes are lit with something you don't often see directed at you, a furious conviction. "What we think we know isn't always fact, so if you think you're not pretty…" He nods his head gently to the left. "There's only really one thing left to do."

Your heart feels like it's being juiced. "What's that?" you ask.

He grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. Fingertips to his breastbone, he holds it flat. Sure enough, even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, you can feel the rapid capering of his pulse.

"It's like that pretty much any time I look at you."

"Spence…"

"I know it's bad," he says.

"Are you messing with me?"

"Yeah, I did a lap before I came to find you– No!" He laughs, giving you an admonishing look. "Why would I mess with you? How could I?"

"I don't know."

He dips in to kiss your frown. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "So, so pretty. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, no matter what you think."

You don't believe that you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, but you believe that he believes it. He has no reason to lie to you, nothing to gain. He could've said, Hey, you're pretty, and left it at that. He could've been angry with you for leaving the table for something some people would say was superficial. But Spencer's your sweetheart.

"Do you want to go home, angel?" he asks, looking at you worriedly.

"No." You don't even have to think about it —you've done enough thinking. "I don't want to go home. Sorry, Spencer. I feel better." And you'll stay out all night if he's going to call you angel again.

"Well, let me know if you need me to tell you again."

The chances of you surviving such an ardent speech a second time are low. "I won't be doing that."

Spencer shrugs. "You'll let me know, even if you don't think so. You have a tell when you're upset."

You spend the rest of the night making up for your disruption (which Spencer's friends immediately dismiss without questioning), shepherding the crisper curly fries on to Spencer's plate because he likes them that way, and begging him to tell you what your tell is with subtle pleading glances and a hand on his knee. Nothing inappropriate, but affectionate nonetheless.

He doesn't tell you no matter how much you ask, and maybe it's the drinks or the way the scone light kisses his cheeks in a warm buttery light, you can't find it in you to be mad.

"Keep your secrets," you say, chin tilted upward. You're failing to glare at him, too much love in your eyes for it to be believable.

"You're beautiful," he says back, mirroring your expression playfully, before leaning down for a chaste kiss.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! if you did, please consider reblogging, it makes a big difference to me<3 have a good day!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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andshesaidwhat · 6 months ago

Text

Web of Lies - Stephen Glass Smut

Summary: You and Stephen are coworkers and he’s always harbored a secret crush on you. When he finally works up the courage to ask you to hang out with him, he’s elated that you agree. However, after an innocent night of company, you return to the office the next day to find your name as the hot topic of gossip. When you confront Stephen about the matter, he finds himself trapped in a web of his own lies.

Warnings: dacryphilia (he’s so pretty when he cries, i can’t help it), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (Stephen receiving), dub-con (kind of? not really, but tagging it just in case), sub!Stephen, nipple play, manipulation, angst, lying, teasing, edging, denial, begging, humiliation, degradation, stephen whines and whimpers a lot because obviously.

Masterlist

The soft material of Stephen’s socks padded quietly across the floor as he made his way into the break room at The New Republic.

He stood by the door, watching with a small smile as you angrily hit the drink machine. He laughed to himself as you huffed, the frustration clear on your face.

This was something he did often. He observed you from a distance. The two of you had never spoken beyond the occasional greeting when your paths would cross in the office or a brief congratulations from you when a piece of his did exceptionally well.

Those were his favorite times. Watching you react to his stories. He’d ride the elation for hours when your lips would turn up in a smile during one of his pitches. He found himself tuning in to what made you laugh, what piqued your interest, warping his tales to accommodate.

He could do an entire write up on you by now if he was ever asked to. He’d studied you, down to every little detail. He knew what made you laugh and what pissed you off. He knew how you took your coffee and what pastries you’d swipe from the bakery you passed by every morning. He knew how you’d worry your bottom lip when you were deep in thought — that was a personal favorite of his. You’d become an obsession of sorts.

He had found his rhythm, watching your life from the outside. He was content that way. Which was why he was surprised to find himself walking up to you now.

“This machine never works,” he said, startling you as he appeared behind you. He grinned, sheepishly, ducking his head. “Sorry, it’s just that this machine gets stuck more than it doesn’t. Besides, the drinks inside of it are all flat anyways. There’s a better one on the third floor of the building. Works every time, honest.”

“Oh, thanks for the tip,” you laughed, embarrassed that you’d been caught fighting with an inanimate object.

“I was actually coming in here to put a note on the machine before leaving for lunch,” he lied, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s this little cafe a few blocks over that’s just to die for.”

“Are you talking about the one on 3rd Ave?” Stephen nodded, watching your face light up. “That’s one of my favorites!”

Stephen already knew that, of course. He’d watched you accumulate new takeout menus every time you’d go there for breakfast or lunch. He was willing to bet that you had upwards of twenty by now in your desk drawer. Still, he raised his eyebrows like this was the first he’d known of this information.

“Really?” Stephen asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shrugged. “Well, if you wanted, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You eyed the blond curiously. His glasses were perched high on his nose and his cheeks were illuminated with an ever present blush. He had an adorable, naive quality about him. Sure, it was clear to you that most of his stories were more fiction than fact, but who amongst you didn’t embellish every now and then?

You were intrigued by him, by the way his mind worked. He seemed to be nervously awaiting your answer, so you eased his fears with a gentle smile.

“I’d love to,” you told him, giggling at the way his eyes widened before he broke out into a breathtaking smile.

There was certainly a reason why he had the majority of the office wrapped around his finger. He was charming and incredibly easy on the eyes. He was observant, noticing things other people wouldn’t.

Maybe that was why, despite the controversy of his recent article, he didn’t seem to be catching too much heat.

“I’ll grab my things and we can walk there together,” Stephen told you, giving you a shy grin. “I’ll meet you by the front.”

You nodded, noticing the way some of your coworkers were observing your interaction. You brushed it off as typical office nosiness, waiting for Stephen to return.

As the two of you walked through the city, Stephen couldn't help but chat about mundane things: the weather, the noise of the city, your favorite books. He felt an unusual warmth in his chest, enjoying your conversation and company.

You couldn’t help but find his nervous rambling endearing, fascinated by the way he turned everything into a story.

Once you arrived at the quaint little cafe, he led you to a table by the window with a gentle smile.

“This is the best spot to sit,” you said, beaming as you looked out the large window. “You can watch all the people go by.”

He admired you, feeling his chest swell with pride that he had made a good choice.

You continued chatting about various topics, from your hobbies to your favorite TV shows. Stephen found himself opening up more than usual with you — something about you made him feel at ease and encouraged him to share pieces of himself.

By the end of the lunch hour, you had made your way back to the looming office building. You both stopped before returning inside, Stephen turning to look at you with a small smile.

“Thanks for the company,” he said, that familiar blush tinting his cheeks. “It meant more than you know.”

“Of course, Stephen,” you smiled. “Anytime.”

He watched you turn to walk back into the building, reaching out to stop you before he realized what he was doing. He felt a spike of anxiety shoot through his stomach as you turned around to look at him expectantly.

“Would you maybe wanna come over after work?” Stephen asked, breathing heavily. “I have Monopoly, if you like that sort of thing. I also have some left over danishes from that bakery down the street that I simply can’t finish all by myself.”

He watched your ears perk up at the mention of the pastries you’d stop to get before work some mornings. Hope brimmed in his chest as you contemplated his offer.

You couldn’t deny the intrigue. You’d enjoyed his company during lunch, and wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.

“Can I play as the top hat?” You smirked, laughing as his face lit up.

Stephen felt a wave of relief wash over him as he responded, “Consider it yours.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you said, genuinely, before returning back to the office.

Stephen watched you walk off, his smile refusing to leave his face. As you parted ways, he couldn't shake off the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. Each step felt lighter, as if he was walking on clouds.

The upcoming game night weighed heavily on his mind throughout the day. Every time he caught himself daydreaming about it, he'd snap back to reality and focus on his work. Yet, the excitement lingered, making the hours drag by slowly.

When evening finally came, he rushed home to prepare everything for your meeting. He wanted everything to be perfect — from setting up the game board to arranging the pastries he’d stopped to pick up after work.

You followed the address Stephen had sent you, showing up to his apartment. You couldn’t deny that you were excited to spend more time with him. He fascinated you in more ways than one. There was the obvious about his stories, yes, but there was also the way he seemed to melt when he looked at you.

You knocked gently on his door, waiting for his response.

Stephen stood at the entrance of his apartment, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He had cleaned and prepared everything meticulously, ensuring every detail was just right. As he opened the door, he found his hands trembling.

"Hey," he greeted softly, gesturing for you to enter. The sight of you took his breath away, and he couldn't help but blush under your gaze.

He showed you to the living room, where the Monopoly board lay spread out on the table. Next to it was an array of pastries and a fresh pot of coffee.

"Please, sit wherever you'd like," he said shyly, already feeling self-conscious.

“You’ve got the whole spread, huh?” You asked with an impressed smile, sitting down on his couch.

Your cheeks warmed with a blush of their own when you noticed he’d laid out the exact amount of creamer and sugar that you usually used.

Stephen chuckled softly, glancing around his apartment nervously. "Just trying to make it special," he explained, sitting across from you with the Monopoly board between you.

He poured you both a cup of coffee, watching as you observed your surroundings.

As you began playing, Stephen found himself getting lost in the fun, enjoying the sound of your laughter and the occasional touch of your hand while passing money or property cards. Every interaction sent electric shocks through him, leaving him spellbound.

You had genuinely enjoyed the game night. Both of you winning your fair share of rounds. He knew how to reel people in, that was for sure.

Eventually, you’d consumed all of the coffee and sweets that you could handle and had just bought out the last property on the board.

“There,” you said, triumphantly, winning again. “That makes three for me.”

Stephen couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at losing once again, but instead of sulking, he smiled widely, clapping for you.

"Impressive! Congrats," he said, sincerely. He noticed the time on his wall clock, realizing how late it had become. "Want to order some pizza before calling it a night?" He proposed, hoping to extend your time together.

Despite the losses, he cherished every moment spent with you. Your presence brought him a comfort and joy that he hadn't experienced in years.

You also weren’t in any rush to end the night, enjoying the time you were spending with him.

“I like pizza,” you smiled.

Stephen grinned, elated that you’d agreed.

“Fantastic,” he said, grabbing his phone to order the pizza. “It’ll be the best pizza you’ve ever had, honest.”

While waiting for the food to arrive, he engaged you in conversation — asking about your interests and hobbies.

When the doorbell rang, he quickly answered, accepting the piping hot pizza box. As you both sat down to eat, he felt grateful for this rare glimpse of a normal evening.

You were both laughing, talking about 80s music when you finished the last of the pizza.

“Really, Stephen? Like a Virgin is your favorite 80s song?” You asked, trying to catch your breath from your fit of giggles.

Stephen chuckled, shaking his head. "Guilty as charged," he admitted, sheepishly. "What can I say? It reminds me of being a teenager."

“I don’t know whether that’s hilarious or extremely sad,” you laughed, wiping your eyes.

“Yeah, me either,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

He glanced at the clock, realizing how late it had become. "I suppose we should call it a night," he said reluctantly, standing up.

Your eyes widened as you saw the time. It was nearly midnight. You’d been so lost in the night that you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.

“Yeah, I suppose we should,” you agreed, standing up as well. “We won’t be very useful at work if we’re walking around half asleep.”

He smiled at your comment as he walked you to the door. He found himself wanting to kiss you, willing his eyes to stay away from your lips. Instead, he extended a polite handshake.

“Thanks for coming over,” he murmured, nervously. “I had a great time.”

You liked this version of him. The sweet, shy Stephen who didn’t feel the need to rely on stories of grandeur to captivate his audience. This version, the real version, you felt yourself falling for.

“Thank you for having me, Stephen,” you said, taking his hand gently. “I had a lovely time.”

Stephen watched you leave, feeling a mix of excitement and sadness. He waved until you disappeared from view, then returned inside his apartment.

The guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders as he sat alone in silence, staring at the Monopoly board left scattered on the coffee table.

The next day, when you arrived at the office, you noticed some of your co-workers giving you odd looks. You ignored it at first, unlocking your office and going about your morning.

You had honestly expected Stephen to greet you, but he was strangely nowhere to be found. He’d been so eager to spend time together yesterday…

You tried to ignore the twist of disappointment in your stomach as you went about your morning.

Later, when you left your office to grab some papers, you noticed the strange looks again. This time, they were accompanied by hushed whispers and giggles. You looked around, skeptically, continuing on with your task.

It wasn’t until you were walking back to your office that you managed to hear a bit of what two women were saying.

“Can you believe it? He said she used handcuffs on him,” one of the women whispered, eyeing you up and down.

“She seems so reserved… I guess you never know when someone’s a freak in the sheets,” the other responded in hushed giggles.

You stopped dead in your tracks, trying to hear more of what they were saying.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to fucking Steve either, but I didn’t think she could be so…animalistic.”

Anger burned underneath your skin as you clutched the papers so tightly that they had all wrinkled. Your breathing was labored as you walked over to Stephen’s cubicle.

“Can I talk to you in my office, Stephen?” You asked, sharply.

Stephen looked up from his desk, startled by your sudden appearance. He swallowed hard, noting the anger simmering in your eyes. "Of course," he replied, following you to your office.

Once inside, he closed the door behind him, waiting for you to speak. "Is everything okay?" He inquired cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest.

You leaned against your desk in front of a chair where Stephen moved to sit, crossing your arms.

“No, Stephen, everything is not okay,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

He was nervous. Fidgeting in his seat, refusing to make direct eye contact with you for longer than a second. All signs that he was feeling anxious about something — or guilty.

He shrunk in on himself, his tongue darting out to lick his lips that had gone dry the minute you walked into his office as he asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad?!” You questioned back, fuming as his eyes stayed glued to the floor. “Care to tell me why the entire office is gossiping about some story of the rough, passionate sex we supposedly had?”

"It was...a misunderstanding," he stuttered, his voice barely audible, panic etched into his features. "They thought we had an affair, which isn't true."

“Yeah, I know it’s not true Stephen,” you scoffed, “but why do they think that it is?”

“You know how office gossip spreads,” he shrugged, his right knee bouncing as he pushed up his glasses. “Someone starts a story and everyone latches onto it like a bunch of leaches until they’re so full of shit that they drop it and move on.”

Your jaw ticked as you asked, “How would they even know to start this kind of story?”

“I don’t know!” Stephen defended, furrowing his eyebrows as his nostrils flared. “People are animals. Believe me, I’m just as upset as you are by all of this.”

He was scrambling, trying to play off innocent like he always did. Normally, you’d write it off. Even finding it somewhat endearing on most occasions. This time, however, it only fueled your anger.

“Did someone make up the story as petty office gossip or did you make it up so that the office would talk about something other than you completely making up Hack Heaven?” You asked, matter-of-factly. You saw the shock in his features, the readiness to deny, so you added, “Yeah, I know you made up that article and god only knows how many more. There’s no point in lying to me.”

Stephen stared at you in disbelief, shaken by your revelation. "How...how did you…?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, Stephen, you’re a tremendous writer but a terrible liar. I saw through your stories the moment I met you,” you said, a certain bite to your words. “What I didn’t expect was to become the center of one of your fictitious escapades.”

He could feel his world crumbling. All of his lies had caught up to him, and worse, he had involved you in it. "I...I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he stammered, rubbing his temples.

Stephen winced, feeling his face heat up. He stared at his shoes, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, genuinely remorseful. "I never meant to drag you into this mess."

He took a deep breath, mustering the courage to speak the truth. "I made up stories because I wanted to succeed. I craved recognition and believed that's what it took." His voice cracked as he continued. "Seeing how much it's hurt you... I wish I could take it all back."

The weight of his actions bore down on him, realizing the consequences. There were no more webs to spin, no more excuses to give. He’d been caught in the worst way possible.

You looked at him for a moment, studying the way he sunk in on himself and the water rising in his eyes. You didn’t know whether you could believe his regret or not. A small piece of you wanted to.

“Tell me the story, then,” you said, uncrossing your arms. When you saw Stephen’s confusion, you continued. “You seemed to have such a riveting tale of our affair, so let me hear it. Tell me what you told them I supposedly did to you.”

“W-what?” Stephen sputtered, eyes wide as he glanced at you. “But…I…”

He waited, desperately hoping you’d back down, but he could see the fierce determination in your eyes. His face flamed as he took a shaky breath.

“I…I told them all kinds of details and descriptions,” he whispered, nervously. “I’m really sorry.”

“Tell me the details and descriptions, Stephen,” you said, sternly. “You didn’t have a problem telling them, so tell me.”

Stephen sighed, shakily, closing his eyes for a moment before recounting the fabricated encounter.

"I told them you were—”

“Look at me, Stephen,” you snapped, interrupting him.

His breath hitched as his eyes snapped up to meet yours. His skin burned hot. It was already bad enough having to tell you all of this, but it was even worse having to look at you while he did it. He released a shaky breath, beginning again.

"I told them you were aggressive and dominant in bed," he started, his voice barely audible. He winced, ashamed of his imagination. “Please, forgive me.”

“Start from the beginning,” you told him with a glare. “How did you tell them it started?”

Stephen swallowed hard, feeling nauseous as he recalled his lies. "I said we started chatting about music, after playing Monopoly," he began hesitantly. "Then, I said that you suggested we continue the night doing…something else."

He paused, unsure if he should continue. "I said you initiated it, that you wanted me in ways I'd never imagined," he murmured. "I painted a picture of desire and lust, claiming you were the one taking charge."

Stephen felt sick, realizing how much damage he'd caused — not only to his relationship with you, but also to your reputation.

You didn’t miss the brief flash of desire in his eyes as he recounted the beginning of this tale he’d spun, even if it was quickly replaced by guilt and anxiousness.

You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back onto the desk more.

“So, in this story, you made it sound like I was all over you?” You clarified, your anger ticking. “What did you say happened next?”

"Yes, I...I made it seem like you pursued me," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I described your actions in explicit detail."

He hesitated, feeling uncomfortable talking about it. "I mentioned the way you touched me, and your voice...” He took a breath, fidgeting. “I said that you led me into my bedroom a-and that you…undressed me. I told them that you had…uh…that you had handcuffs. I made it sound like you were very aggressive."

Seeing your anger, he felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. Please, understand that I never meant to hurt you."

You noticed him shifting uncomfortably, covering his lap with his hands as he spoke. Why was he trying to cover his lap? Was he getting turned on by this? Did he want to hide his arousal? Without wavering your stoic face, you said, “Put your arms by your sides, Stephen.”

Stephen's eyes widened slightly at your command but he obeyed without question. He put his arms by his sides, his face flush. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice barely audible.

He could feel his heart racing, partly due to the embarrassment of his reaction and partly due to the regret of his actions.

As he held his arms at his sides, you noticed the unmistakable tent forming in his pants.

“Keep going,” you said, cocking your head. “How did you tell them I used the handcuffs?”

Stephen's face turned bright red, mortified by your observation. He gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact. "I...I said you handcuffed me to the bedpost and...um…took control," he stammered, his voice breaking.

“Was this some sort of weird fantasy you’d had all along, or did it just fly off your tongue like all the other stories you tell?” You asked, harshly.

Stephen's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't deny it.

"I...I won't deny that it was partially a fantasy," he admitted, his voice a whisper, "but I never intended for it to become reality or cause you any harm."

He could feel the weight of his words, realizing the magnitude of his actions. "I'm so sorry. I was wrong, and I will do whatever it takes to make it right."

“Is that why you’re getting hard just talking about it?” You laughed, bitterly, glancing at the growing erection.

Stephen's face was crimson, his embarrassment palpable. He couldn't look at you, averting his eyes instead. "I don't...I don't know," he mumbled.

He knew he'd crossed a line, and he was desperate to fix it. "Please, I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to make it right. Just give me a chance."

“Anything?” You asked, raising a brow at him. The sunlight from the open blinds lit up his scarlet cheeks, accentuating the blue in his eyes “Unbutton your shirt.”

Stephen froze, his eyes wide with shock. He glanced at the open blinds, then back at you. Despite his reluctance, he slowly took off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his pale chest.

You didn’t move from your position as your eyes trailed down the exposed skin of his torso, stopping back at the growing erection in his pants.

“Now, undo your pants,” you instructed, crossing your arms.

Stephen gulped, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he slowly started to remove his belt and unbutton his pants. He hesitated, his hands shaking, but he knew he had to follow your instructions.

As his zipper lowered, the erection became more apparent, straining against his boxers. He tried to keep his eyes on your face, but the embarrassment was overwhelming.

The bright redness that burned his face had now also began flushing his chest. You stopped yourself from smirking at the sight.

“Well, go on…” you told him. “Push them the rest of the way down.”

Stephen hesitated, his hands trembling as he gripped his pants. He took a deep breath, knowing there was no turning back. With a shaky hand, he pushed his pants down to his ankles.

He sat there, utterly exposed and humiliated, waiting for your next command. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and shame coursing through him.

You stared at his sizable erection, straining against the boxers he wore.

“Boxers, too,” you said, cocking your head.

Stephen's face was beet red, but he complied, slowly pulling down his boxers. His erection sprang free, standing rigid and exposed.

He felt vulnerable and humiliated, but at the same time, he couldn't help but be aroused. He waited for your reaction, expecting your anger to be unbearable.

Your eyes widened slightly at the size of him, springing free from its confine. The sunlight caught him deliciously and you couldn’t deny the stir in your stomach.

“Look at you,” you laughed, “this worked up from your own imagination. You’re practically leaking everywhere.”

He felt his entire body flush at your attention, feeling the pre-cum dripping down his shaft. He felt like he was drowning in his own desire and lies.

“Yes, I'm...I'm sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“It looks awfully painful,” you said, still studying him. “All red and aching…”

You stood up straighter, standing tall over where he was sat in the chair. If he wanted you to take control, then that’s what he was going to get.

“You’re going to finish telling me the story that you told them, recounting every twisted detail you dreamed up, and you’re going to fuck yourself in front of me while you do it.”

Stephen's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't argue. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. The combination of his arousal and your command left him breathless.

He reached for his erection, feeling the heat and wetness pulsating in his veins. Hesitantly, he began to stroke himself, his mind flooded with the details of his fantasy.

He hoped this would show you his remorse, that this would be his way to beg you for forgiveness.

“What did you tell them happened after I handcuffed you, Stephen?” You asked, watching as he fisted his dick.

Stephen's grip tightened on his erection, his breathing becoming ragged. "I...I said you took control, touching me slowly...and teasing me." He groaned softly, his body responding to his thoughts. His actions mirrored his words as he absentmindedly teased himself, adding to the intensity of the current situation.

You locked eyes with him, seeing how his pupils dilated as you asked, “How did I tease you?”

Stephen's fingers danced faster, his breaths growing ragged. "I, uh, said you played with my nipples, tracing them with your fingers." He moaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed. "Then, I said you kissed me...all over." He gasped, his body arching slightly.

His mind was consumed by both your questions and his arousal, making it harder to separate fantasy from reality.

“Did I make you beg for it, Stephen?” You asked, your voice growing husky. You were relishing in the way he was falling apart, so submissive and eager.

Stephen's eyes snapped open at your question, his body trembling. "Yes," he gasped, his fist moving faster. "I said you made me beg for it, for relief and your touch."

His breathing became erratic, every thrust of his hand mirroring the intensity of his thoughts. "I begged for you, begged for everything you were doing to me."

He could barely focus on the task at hand, his arousal and fantasies clouding his mind.

“Tell me what you said I did to you after you begged for it,” you told him. You saw the way he was quickly losing himself and added, “and don’t you dare thinking about coming before I tell you to.”

Stephen's breath hitched, his grip tightening on his erection as a whimper escaped his lips. "I...I said you took me, forcefully and passionately," he panted, his body trembling.

He could feel the edge, the pleasure threatening to overtake him, but he forced himself to slow down, obeying your command.

His eyes locked on yours, desperation evident in his gaze. "Please, I need...I need to come."

“Is that what you dreamed of saying to me in this fantasy of yours?” You asked, leaning a bit closer. “Did you beg me to let you come while I was passionately taking you?”

Stephen's heart raced, his mind whirling. "Yes," he breathed. "I...I begged for release, for you to let me come."

He could feel the pressure building, the pleasure and humiliation overwhelming him. "Please,” he whined, “please let me finish this."

His eyes pleaded with you, hoping you would grant him the release he craved.

“Not yet,” you said, coldly.

His skin was flushed with arousal and embarrassment, sweat was beading on his brow, and his eyes were blown with lust. You enjoyed his desperation, deciding to push it further.

“What do you think would happen if someone looked through the window and saw you right now, Stephen?” You taunted, tilting your head towards the open blinds letting in the sunlight. “Or what if one of our coworkers walked right in to my office? What if they saw you, desperate and begging, just like your little stories?”

You glanced over at your closed office door and said, “Come to think of it, I don’t remember locking the door.”

Stephen's eyes widened, panic rising in his chest. "Oh god," he gasped, his grip tightening on his erection.

He could feel the orgasm building, the pleasure and humiliation threatening to consume him. His eyes darted to the door, the possibility of exposure sending chills down his spine.

He knew he was at your mercy, desperate for release and terrified of what might happen. "Please, I can't...I can't take this anymore."

You walked over, placing your hands on each of the armrests and leaning over him — giving him a delectable view of your cleavage beneath your shirt.

“What’s stopping me from opening that door right now and letting them all see you, hm?” You taunted. “You were so keen to describe the details of this fantasy, why not let them witness it for themselves.”

Stephen's heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling. "No," he whimpered, his gaze locked on your cleavage. "Please, don't do that. I...I can't handle it."

“What’s wrong, Stevie?” You taunted. “You made up this story in the first place to take their eyes off of your fabricated articles. I think this would certainly do the trick. Nobody would be thinking about Hack Heaven if they saw you like this — exposed, desperate, needy, fucking yourself as you beg for my mercy. I think this is a front page picture.”

Stephen's eyes widened, panic rising in his chest. He glanced at the door again, the possibility of exposure weighing heavily on him.

"Please, I can't... I can't have them see me like this," he pleaded in that whiny voice of his, tears in his eyes.

His grip tightened, his body shaking as he fought against the impending orgasm. He needed you to decide, to put an end to his torment.

“Yet you’re gripping your dick that much harder,” you noted with a smirk. “Does the thought turn you on, Stevie? Being seen like this? Being exposed?”

Stephen's breath hitched, his eyes locked on yours. He nodded, slowly, tears streaming down his face. "Still…I don't want them to see me like this. I'm begging you."

His hand didn't stop, his body betraying him as the pleasure built. He felt trapped, his desires conflicting with his fear of exposure.

“You look so pretty like this, though,” You teased, grazing your nails lightly across his nipples. “I’m sure they’d love to see their favorite coworker so compromised.”

Stephen gasped, thrusting his hips up off of the chair. "Please," he whined, stroking himself faster.

You kept teasing his sensitive nipples with your nails, loving to see how wrecked he was. The anger you had felt had morphed into desire as you watched him falling apart in front of you.

“You’re just so close,” you cooed, taunting him, “aren’t you?”

"Yes," he whimpered, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm...I'm so close."

He could feel the orgasm building, the pleasure and humiliation overwhelming him. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, his body betraying him once again.

“Beg me to let you come, Stevie,” you told him, mercilessly circling the hardened buds on his chest.

"Please," he gasped, his voice trembling. "Let me come, please."

He could feel the climax approaching, his body tensing. He needed your permission, your approval.

You backed away from him, becoming his audience.

“Come for me, Stephen,” you commanded, watching him intently.

Stephen's eyes widened, relief washing over him. "Thank you," he whimpered, his grip tightening as he chased his peak.

When he finally let himself fall over the edge, his eyes rolled back, his body jerking as the orgasm hit him. He came hard, whimpering your name and arching off of the seat as he bit down on his bottom lip to muffle his whines.

He slumped forward, panting heavily, his emotions a chaotic mix of gratitude and humiliation.

He looked utterly disheveled. His clothes hanging off of him, his skin flushed, his hair a mess, his glasses fogged. He looked delectable.

You handed him a box of tissues and said, “Clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.”

Stephen's breaths were heavy, his body still trembling as the afterglow settled in. He took the tissues gratefully, cleaning himself up.

He quickly straightened his clothes, his movements shaky. He felt vulnerable and exposed, but also strangely liberated.

As he stood up, he met your gaze, a mix of gratitude, embarrassment, and desire in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured.

You crossed your arms, standing in front of him after he’d somewhat composed himself.

“Never ever lie about me again,” you told him.

Stephen's heart raced, his eyes locked on yours. "I won't," he promised, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm sorry for everything."

He knew he'd made a mistake, and he wasn't going to repeat it. He wanted your forgiveness, to start anew and make things right.

Despite the harshness in your tone, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him.

You nodded, sighing as you uncrossed your arms.

“Well, I didn’t have handcuffs on me, but at least now your story has some credibility,” you joked, letting up on the sternness.

Stephen managed a weak smile, the blush still tinting his cheeks. "That it does," he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

He could feel the tension easing, the weight of his lies lifting from his shoulders. He knew he still had a long way to go, but this was a step in the right direction.

He hoped you could move past this, build something stronger and more honest.

You didn’t think he was malicious, just insecure and unsure of how to create his true identity. It was somehow still endearing.

You grabbed his face, gently pressing a kiss to his lips.

Stephen's breath hitched, his heart racing as he eagerly returned the kiss, melting into you with a soft whimper.

He felt a mix of relief, gratitude, and desire. You had given him a chance, and he intended to prove himself worthy.

As you pulled away, he met your gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Thank you," he whispered.

You glanced at the office door and then back at him, his adorable face flushed.

“If they ask what happened, for once in your life just keep your mouth shut,” you giggled, softly.

Stephen chuckled, his cheeks flushing even more. "I will," he promised, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He knew he had to learn from this experience, to be honest and true to himself. He wanted to earn your trust and respect.

As he looked at you, he realized that, despite the chaos, something had changed between you. You had shared something intimate, and he felt grateful.

#hayden christensen smut #stephen glass smut #stephen glass #shattered glass #oneshot #imagine #fanfiction #smut #smutrequests

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anemptypuddingcup · 8 months ago

Text

In need of you!

Puppy Luffy x Female Reader.

Smut short.

Contains: Puppy Luffy! Luffy experiencing his rut. Luffy’s being chained up for obvious reasons (homies dangerous when he’s needy). Reader finally agreeing to let him free and help him. Luffy ripping Reader’s clothes. Knotting and impregation. Luffy impregnating Reader even though she doesn’t want it at the time. Sweet cuddles and aftercare.

Luffy lied there with his wrists tight within his sea-stoned cuffs, a groan leaving him as you struggled to sit up straight. He missed you, the very woman who had got a hold on him to begin with, the woman who always took good care of him. At this point it was all he could think about, just you and him together holding each other so tight that you’d get so hot and warm in each other’s embrace.

It was hard for him to just sit there and wait for you to come back to him, to call his name in such a sweet sing-song voice while you’d free him from his cuffs. God, he just needed you no- he wanted you. He wanted you to be in his embrace, to hold on to him like there’s no tomorrow or there’s no one else in the world but him. If only you’d just let him out of his cuffs, he’d show you how much of his heart he’d give to you.

His tail had wagged vigorously at the thought and alongside that his cock was starting to grow hard and painfully needy for you. “Baby! Babyyyyyy!” Whimpers left his lips as he began to struggle around in his restraints, the little bell on his collar jingling as he whines and yells out in painful pleasure. He couldn’t help it, he disliked being chained up especially during his rut.

Regardless if he understood or not, he wasn’t necessarily worried about the situation or the fact that he could hurt you badly without thinking.

All he wanted was to be with you and to feel your arms wrapped around his body while you mewled out beneath him.

As he lied there drooling and blushing at his own arousing thoughts, he hears your light and sweet footsteps trailing down to the room that he was in. He immediately perks up and is already pulling at his chains and cuffs, eager to see you and your cute little frame enter the room with a loving smile on your face.

It was as if a puppy was waiting for his owner to come back home. His adoring girlfriend who just wanted to keep both him and herself safe.

“Luffy baby?”

The sound of your voice causes him to freeze and he smiles widely before panting and pulling at the his restraints once again. You slowly peek your head into the doorframe and he smiles happily while his tail wagged even more at the sight of you. “Luffy! How’s my baby feeling?” You asked with delight, your body slipping past the doorway and walking into the room where Luffy sat. “Baby! Babybabybaby!” Luffy yelps happily, his hands reaching out to you before the chains restricted his movements.

“Luffyy…” You sighed out, wanting to go to him and fall into his embrace but can’t. You give him a saddened expression while he sat there with his derpy little expression, his little ears twitching as he sat there panting and staring at you and your body.

Luffy tried to reach out to you again only for his moves to be restricted once again, making him whine out in irritation. Luffy gives you his little puppy eyes before he scooted closer, a larger frame sitting there while it shivered with uncontrolled excitement.

“Baby! Need ya! Want ya!” Luffy says, his arms reaching out to you while a whimper slowly fell past his lips. You sigh out shakily as you stared at him, hesitating to even get closer to him. You were afraid of what he would do to you if you’d let him loose, but even so you were sure that Luffy couldn’t possibly be that rough on you.

“I need you too Luffy…” You say quietly, your body getting down into its knees before you sat down onto the floor. Luffy lunges at you but is still unable to reach you, his sudden movements causing you to jolt and move back from him.

You were afraid…but you just didn’t want to admit that. Luffy wasn’t that stupid though.

Luffy sat still and tilted his head to you before moving around and studying your body language, a huff leaving past his lips as he realized that you were startled by his movements. “Scared?” He asked you, a pout falling onto his face as his tail slides up under his thigh.

“I’m sorry…Luffy.”

You huff out in response and nodded to him, your hands holding your knees tightly up against your chest while you felt tears brewing in your eyes. Luffy smiled before panting, his body scooting closer to you before he held his arms out to you. “M’fine baby. M’not gonna hurt ya…I promise I won’t.” He says to you, a little whine falling after as he finally showed signs of him struggling to keep himself together due to his rut.

“Baby…” You sighed, a little chuckle falling after as you laughed at him and his little stubbornness. Luffy groans out shakily and sighs out before giving up, his body laying out into his back as he groans out in pained arousal. “Mmgh~ W-Want ya…S’badly…J-Just wanna feel ya…” Luffy whines out, a huff leaving his lips as he turns over onto his side and begins curling up.

You sighed and reach out to him before pressing your hand against his thigh, making him shudder and whimper shakily. You crawl over to him and sigh out shakily before sliding up into his larger frame, his head raising as he watched you straddle him. You reach around the back pocket of you jeans and pull out the key before showing him.

“Give me your wrists Luffy…” You say, watching as he perks up before giving you his wrists. You put the key into the keyhole and turn it, unlocking the the cuffs and watching as the fell onto the ground. Luffy’s hands immediately gripped your hips tightly and he growls out before smashing his lips against yours. You gasp out loudly into his lips as he clawed at your sides, his hands spreading you out on the floor while he growls out to you.

His hands pulled at your shirt before he tears it, a gasp leaving you as you watched him rip your shirt off of you. His eyes stared down at your breasts before he smiles and laps at the soft mounds sloppily, slobbing all over them while his hands tugs at your joggers. He yanks them down as he heard your sweet mewls, your back arching as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive buds.

As he continues to grope and bite at your breasts, he pulls his briefs down and lifts his head up to you before smiling and panting all needily. You shuddered and watch as he slaps his cock against your clothed pussy, a little whimper leaving him as he missed that heat of yours he adored against his. He grinds his hard and sticky cock along your clothed cunt, his pre already drenching the fabric of your panties alongside your slit.

He huffs out as he loops his fingers beneath your panties before tearing off of you, the sound of the fabric making your cunt clench tightly. He grabs your hips and lifts them up to his, the tip of his cock kissing your entrance and making you bite your bottom lip. “G-Gentle Luffy…P-Please…” You begged to him, pressing your hand against his chest while he lowers himself closer to you.

He nuzzles his nose against yours and smiles before trailing down to your neck, his nose nuzzling against the skin of your neck and collarbone and inhaling your sweet and wonderful scent. As he distracts you, he shove his cock deep into your pussy making you throw your head back before you gasp out in pain.

He thrusted into you without much of a warning, causing you to yell out and wince in pain a little whimper spilling out of your lips a bit after. Luffy sighs out in relief as he felt your walls all warm and snug around his cock. He didn’t even give you time to adjust, his thrusts already hard and rough against your hips while his cock smushed up a deep smooch against your cervix.

His hands gripped your thighs and he shoved them up far past your chest, your ankles practically before your ears at this point. “Luffy~ L-Lu…ffy~” You gasped out, struggle to even speak or breathe with how hard and fast Luffy was thrusting into you. Luffy stared down at you with puppy eyes as he painted heavily with each thrust against your hips, his eyes crossing from the pleasure of your pussy sucking him in and nestling his cock deep inside.

“So good~ Baby’s pussy is…so fuckin’ good~” Luffy groans, his knees digging deep into the carpet as his hip’s repeatedly fuck and slammed into yours. “God Luffy!~ S-Slow down!~” You whimper out, throwing your head back while your toes curled tight from the pleasure. Luffy wraps his arms tight around you, his arms slithering around your body while he pants and pulls his cock out of you suddenly.

You inhale deeply and breathe heavily before lifting your head up weakly to him. He was smiling all sweetly to you, which obviously meant that he was hiding something from you or was planning to do something. You struggle to sit up and sigh out before looking up into his puppy eyes. “Luffy…what’re you doing?” You asked him, quirking a brow to him while he stared down at you.

A little bit of steam before to come off of his body and it gains a bit of a pink hue which alerts you. Your eyes widens and you struggled in his arms. “Luffy! Luffy no! No! Don’t use gear second Luffy!” You said, demanding for him to not use gear second.

Sadly your words fell onto deaf ears as he begins thrusting back into you.

His thrusts grew rampant and exceptionally fast as he fucks your pussy, heavy whines leaving your lips as his cock repeatedly kissed your cervix. Luffy wasn’t even worried about your pleasure at this point with the rut clouding his mind. The only thing he really wanted to do was breed you and get you full of his cute little pups. Just the thought of your tummy swollen with his babies and your breasts full with milk made him pound into you faster.

You eyes rolled up while he fucked you, fucking you so deep to the point where you felt him kissing past your cervix. Your moans grew loud and desperate as while Luffy drooled out onto your skin, his tongue sliding along the skin of your neck and lapping at your skin while he fucked your pussy into oblivion. You couldn’t make out any words to him, only moans and mewls while he fucked your pussy.

You could feel your core tightening and it felt rather painful with how fast and hard Luffy was going. “Luffy!~ Fuck! L-Luffy!~” You gasped out his name, his collar jiggling with every thrust he gave you. His and your body had grew sticky from sweat, drool and pre. You arch your back within his arms and moan out loudly before squirting out onto his cock, your pussy gushing around his length while you inhale deeply from the pleasure of your sudden orgasm.

Luffy growls out as he felt your pussy tighten more around his length, his cock and lower abdomen growing more sticky as his thrusts grew faster and yet so much harder. You continued to moan to him in overstimulation, whining as you struggled to stay composed due to Luffy. “L-Luuuu~ Luffy~” You moaned out to him, whining and trying to beg for him to stop or at least slow down.

Luffy’s brows furled tightly as he begins to growl and groan out, his cock beginning to twitch inside of your pussy as he felt his knot growing close to release out in your pussy. “M’gonna breed ya~ Gonna breed ya pussy~” Luffy said shakily, his body moving in closer to yours as he felt that pussy of your suck him in even deeper inside. You couldn’t respond back to him, only gasp out and cry to him while he fucked your pussy senseless and sore.

His hands held on tight and clawed at your hips as he grew ready to release, his hands pulling one of your legs down while his legs folded over your hip. “Gonna knot yaaa~ Fuck M’so closeeee~” He gasps out, a whimper slowly filling after. “Luffy~ D-Don’t knot m-meee~ N-Not yet~” You whined out to him shakily, unable to fight back against him.

Luffy smiles softly and laps at your cheek before panting and huffing out to you. “W-Wanna~ Gonna~ M’gonnaaaa~” He groans out, a few gasps repeatedly leaving his lips before he freezes. “Luffy~ N-No- L-Luffy!~” You moan out shakily as you drool out onto the floor, your eyes rolling up as you felt him beginning to cum deep inside of your pussy.

He groans out loudly and his eyes rolls up to the back of his skull as he cums deep inside of your pussy, knotting deep inside of you and leaving you unable to move or pull away from him. He freezes and breathes heavily against you, whimpering out before pressing and sloppy and deep smooch against your lips. You mewled out and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you while he hums out lovingly.

His arms had pulled your body up and into his embrace, holding you all sweet and snug while you rested your head against his scarred chest. His hands rubbed at your bare back, soothing you while you mewl out softly at the sensation of his rough hands against your softer skin.

“M’sorry…” He apologize, a whimper falling past his lips as he pouted to you while his ears had drooped down. You chuckles lightly and smiled before looking up at him your hands cupping his face and pulling his lips against yours. You smooch his lips lightly and sigh out before scratching at his raven curls. “It’s okay Luffy, I guess I’m gonna be a momma sooner than later.” You giggled, your laugh making a smile creep across his face.

He laps at your cheek before wrapping his arms around you tightly, hugging you and keeping you close against his body. “I love ya~ I love ya s’much~” He hums out, smooching and nibbling at your cheek. You smiled to him and hold him tightly before relaxing against him, a yawn spilling past your lips as you sleep starting washing over your body.

“I love you too baby~”

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