#I really love the push-and-pull dynamics of those two | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

all-purpose-dish-soap · 7 months ago

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34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)

...

You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.

You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.

Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.

Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."

This is a nightmare. A hallucination.

"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."

"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"

"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.

"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."

"You bit me!"

"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."

"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."

⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇

You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.

There’s nowhere to go.

Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"

"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.

Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.

Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.

The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.

He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.

"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.

You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.

Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”

Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."

You make it up another two footholds before you slip.

Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.

You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.

Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."

You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?

"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"

"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."

"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"

You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"

"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”

Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"

Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.

He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.

"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."

You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...

Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"

You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."

You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.

Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"

Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."

You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.

You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.

He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.

Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?

Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.

You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.

"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.

"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."

You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"

Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.

At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."

“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.

At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.

Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"

You huff. "When I can, clearly."

He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."

"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.

"Then how d'you catch food?"

"I don't have to catch my food."

"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."

"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.

"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."

"If that's even possible," Gaz says.

You scowl. Rude.

Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."

"Watch it."

A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"

"Maybe."

"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."

You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.

Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.

"We both have bones.”

"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.

He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.

Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.

"My thigh is like a seal?"

"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.

You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.

Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.

You grab his hands. "Hey!"

He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”

"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.

"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"

You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."

A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."

"Absolutely not."

"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."

“Let us in,” Gaz says.

“No.”

"Not even me?" he asks.

"No."

They both frown.

"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"

You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"

"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"

Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."

"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."

He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.

Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"

You cross your arms. "None of your business."

"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.

“I didn't say that.”

"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.

All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"

Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”

"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"

Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.

Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."

"But it's morning!"

"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."

"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.

"It will,” Gaz agrees.

You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.

A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”

You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.

Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"

"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"

...

part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag

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hyunsvngs · 5 days ago

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𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 - han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

a/n: pwp based off of two images i saw of jisung's boobs in concert and then i went haywire and wrote THIS... MERRY CHRISTMAS !!! 🎄🎅 please read the warnings! 18+ SMUT MDNI!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: ROLEPLAY where jisung is santa for no particular reason, nipple play (m rec), oral (m rec), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (i’m having a white christmas!), dirty talk, overall kind of not extreme but maybe a bit of d/s dynamics (both switchy)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you don’t know what game you’re playing tonight.

jisung’s due back home any minute now. he’s been gone a few hours, last minute christmas shopping with friends, and he claimed he had a surprise for you. you asked to go with, claiming you needed to get a few things too, but jisung had simply told you he had a plan. it’s unusual behaviour for him, but he’s always doing sweet things for you - this could just be another one of those times.

still, you’re bent underneath the tree placing presents in nothing but your nightie and some fuzzy socks. you’ve had to light the fireplace to warm yourself up, but jisung always likes it when it’s cozy anyway. you expect that he’ll arrive home tired, but wanting, from the infrequent texts he’d sent you about missing you. there’s nothing you like more than snuggling with your favourite person on your favourite holiday, even if he does get a little too warm too quickly and ends up being more of a human radiator than anything else.

once you’ve finally found places for all of the gifts, you’re able to wriggle yourself outwards. with the multicoloured lights on and the fireplace lit, along with your many other trinkets… well, it may look like christmas has exploded in your living room. still, you’ve always loved christmas. you adjust a little santa ornament on your fireplace and allow yourself to lay on the couch, pulling a thick blanket over your body. it’s comfortable.

unfortunately it may be a little too comfortable. you appear to have dropped off, because when you wake up it’s a little darker outside. you hear the click of the lock, the sound of the door swinging open and heavy boots stomping in. you sit up, drowsy with sleep but ready to greet your boyfriend.

a few hums are heard from the door, soft and melodic, and you smile. it’s nice. you push yourself up, padding over to the front door, and- oh.

santa’s here.

sure, he looks a little different. under the fluffy white beard and velvet red costume you can catch glimpses of him. a snippet of black ink across honey toned skin when he moves, the sight of his chain dangling beneath the fabric - it’s him, your santa claus, you know it, and suddenly it all makes sense.

“santa!” you grin, walking over to wrap your arms around his middle. he lets out a small ‘ooph’, pretending he’s winded, but two toned arms wrap around your frame right back. “you’re here! early, too.”

“i had to be early for my favourite girl,” you feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks against your ear, and you nuzzle the fabric of his suit. over the time you’ve known your santa, you’ve learned he can be a little sleazy - you’re pretty sure he’s making his voice deeper on purpose, and his fingertips are already tugging up on your nightie to check if you have panties on. it doesn’t surprise you. “why don’t we go take a seat?”

you’re guided back over to your sleeping spot with a firm palm on your back, and you realise he’s got his gloves on too, black faux leather that you can feel even through your nightie. you stumble a little and santa catches you, using the position to sit down and pull you down with him.

one of those sinful gloved hands come up to push your hair out of your face. it feels a little fucked up you’re getting aroused over this, over fucking around with someone who isn’t really your boyfriend, but he meets your gaze with his own. the look in his eyes lets you know that it’s all intentional. “have you been nice this year, baby?”

“i’ve been so nice this year, santa,” you wiggle onto his lap, legs splaying over the side. you receive a gummy smile in return and the feeling of his hand moving up your thigh. it’s sleazy, and you’re slicking up already. it smears against your thighs. “don’t you remember? just last week, i fingered your asshole until-“

“al-right,” he stammers. “doing naughty things isn’t very nice, y’know?! it’s actually the polar opposite. hah, polar.”

his facade is cracking, and you giggle, letting your hands run over his chest. you can feel the muscles beneath his suit. “i thought it was nice, santa. you seemed to like it. a lot, actually, if the noises were telling at all.”

“u-um, you’re not- this isn’t how this is meant to go,” his eyes are wide and ever so brown, the multicoloured lights bouncing off of them. he looks so earnest, almost innocent - if you’re pretending you can’t feel his cock hardening underneath your ass. “i’m meant to- you’re- baby.”

you’re already moving, swinging your legs back over to kneel on the floor in front of him. despite his protesting, he’s letting you, always pliant. his arms fall to his sides and his knees kick apart. his boots make a heavy thud on the wooden floor, the same platform boots you thought he’d retired years ago, and you want to ask him about them but he’s moving your hands to his cock.

while your santa is pliant, you are too, and you give in.

you pull his trousers down, letting the waistband snap just underneath his balls. the pressure pushes his cock upright for you, hard and plump and leaky, and you engulf it with your mouth without a further thought.

“this is why y-you’re my favourite,” he gasps shakily, thighs spreading further. with a flick of his hand, the red velvet jacket falls open, and you’re met with the tattooed honey skin you’ve been craving all along. he’s built, chest plump enough to make your mouth water, and he rubs his thumb over his nipple while you suckle on his cockhead. “that’s it, my sweet baby. suck santa’s cock, just like that.”

your jaw aches already, head reeling from how fast everything is going. you pull off with a wet pop, and with your spare hand you stroke the shaft erratically, your spit acting as lubricant. it’s all too wet for him and his hips buck upwards into your grip. a sharp whine leaves his lips, preceding the heavy breaths that he lets out.

you can’t help but let your other hand move down to his balls, running over the taut skin there. his thighs shake, and you pump harder, squeezing deliberately to watch how precum forms on the head.

“come and kiss me,” he orders, pushing your hand away to replace it with his own. he looks the image of debauched, cockhead ruddy red and sensitive, and he pulls you upwards impatiently to his mouth. you’re laying over him like this, tits pressed against his through your nightie, and he finally leans up to press his lips against yours. immediately, the kiss is filthy, his tongue pressing into your mouth with the deep moans and muffled noises he lets out at the feeling of his own grip.

it’s not long before he’s pushing the same gloved hand past your nightie again, wet from your spit and his precum, finding that you definitely are not wearing panties. he moans into your mouth again, digits finding where you’re wet and aching for him. his lips clack against yours messily as he pushes two fingers inside of you - it’s just a precaution, not meant to be anything more than a quick stretch. still, when your fingers scrabble for purchase on his chest and your nails dig into the plump flesh, he finally pulls away from the kiss and sinks a third finger inside of you. the faux leather is warm from his natural body heat, and you gasp, hips grinding into his palm rhythmically.

“f-fuck, that’s- you’re stretching my pussy out so good, santa,” you keen, keeping your words filthy because you know how he likes it. as you expected, he groans, head tossing back against the sofa and causing his hat to slide onto one side. his cock aches, pressing against your thigh. you can’t help but rub against it just to be cheeky, and his thumb comes to your clit as a punishment. “o-oh! oh, santa, please, will you give- give me more? i want your cock, please!”

“yeah, of course, my baby, of course, just- get this off? get it off,” he’s impatient, gripping at your nightie and pulling it each and every way until you finally sit back and yank it off of your body. instead of wasting any time, your santa is shifting forward, letting his fingers slip from your soaked hole.

he slides inside at the same time his pouty lips envelop your nipple. he’s always been engrossed with your chest, just as much as you are with his. while he’s letting you adjust, his hands move to your ass and squeeze the flesh, eyes fluttering shut as if he’s sated just being inside of you - you know him better than that, though. once you’ve readjusted the red hat on his head, you start to move your hips.

“oh, that’s it,” it’s muffled against your chest, but you hear it, along with the deep groan that leaves his chest. he tries to remain in control, hips moving against yours. “this fuckin’ pussy. been needin’ it all day, baby, you don’t even know.”

“that’s why you came early, santa, right?” you say shakily. the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit in a way that has your eyes watering, and you quicken the pace, pussy clenching down on his shaft. “needed your baby’s pussy too bad. it’s here now, santa, why don’t you just take it?”

“fffuck,” he leans back on his forearms, nodding, eyes scrunched shut. you can tell he wants to take, to force your pussy to take his thick cock, but the feeling of it all is too pleasurable to think. he’s always been a bit too sensitive. you can tell it’s not going to be a long one already, and your hand snakes down to rub fast circles on your clit. “ah, it’s so- it’s so wet, baby, so wet around my cock.”

you moan, moving like a woman possessed, hips rutting into a fast bounce that has him pistoning in and out of you. it’s then that he takes a little more control, grip moving back to your ass to bounce you on top of him. his cock hits deeper like this when he’s pulling you back and forth, and your toes curl in your socks, nose scrunching at the wet sounds reverberating throughout the room. it really is so wet, and you only have your santa to blame.

your hand slaps over your clit just after he opens his eyes, and they narrow, fixating on your pussy. his chest is heaving, and then in a split move, he’s pushing you down flat onto the sofa.

“keep rubbing it, keep- keep going, i need to cum,” he babbles, shaking his head. he’s out of it, and both gloved hands pin your hips down so he can take it from you. his hips move erratically, balls slapping against your skin, and with one hand you do exactly as he said, rubbing the little bundle of nerves until you’re wailing into his neck. the other hand splays against his stomach, almost as if you’re pushing him back, but he’s too strong for that. “it’s- me, now baby, talk to me. talk to hannie, my baby, c’mon.”

“h-hannie,” you hiccup, tears biting at your eyes. “‘s so good, jisungie, baby. i think i’m gonna cum.”

“yeah? why don’t you cum for me?” jisung questions. the white pom pom of his hat swings in front of his eyes, but jisung’s fed up by now, ripping the fabric from his head and tossing it to the side. it’s nice to see him properly, his face unobscured by taunting red fabric, and he gives you a gummy smile.

the sincerity of him, your boyfriend, your one true love is ultimately what does you in. your gummy walls clench around him, finally letting go, and your fingers slide messily across your clit until you’re finished crying through your orgasm. jisung isn’t far behind, and his lips come to kiss your forehead as he holds you close and pumps you full of his cum.

unceremoniously, jisung collapses with another ‘ooph’, sweaty chest pressing against yours. you know it’s intense for him to cum so quickly, and you run your nails up his back underneath the jacket to soothe him. he hums and wiggles his hips around in glee, as if he’s not still inside of you.

“so,” you yawn, letting your nails run down to scratch over his ass. jisung’s hips buck into you this time. “where did the santa idea come from?”

jisung leans back and rubs your nose with his, giggling. “no idea. it wasn’t even the original plan.”

“it wasn’t?” you gasp, attempting to sit up. “then what was it?”

“what was what?” jisung furrows his eyebrows. you groan.

“what was the original plan, jisungie?”

“oh, that!” he slides out of you, and you try not to giggle at the way he surges off of the sofa with his dick still out. “i’ll show you, just wait there!”

you really do giggle when he runs out of the door, tripping over his trouser legs. you think he’s going to return with the surprise, but then he pokes his head round the door, that same wide grin on his face.

“merry christmas by the way, my baby. i love you.”

#juno's fics ♡#han jisung fic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #jisung fanfiction #jisung smut #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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crashandlivewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Hear the Dogs Howling

Dedicated to the lovely @soapsgf for allowing me to ramble and bounce ideas off as I wrote this, along with being so sweet and helping me grow my confidence. This is for you.

Pairing: Dom!Ghost x fem!switch!reader x switch!Soap

Summary: Soap doesn't know how to stay quiet during sex. Tonight is no different. When you finally knock on his door to get him to tone it down, you walk in on a scene you weren't entirely expecting to see.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, MMF threesome, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving vaginal; m receiving anal), anal sex (m receiving), mild dubcon as Soap is initially choking on cock but he's into it, minor pet play (Soap is referred to as pup)

Read on Ao3

Soap was a noisy neighbour. There was no other way to put it. You’d been rooming next to him for a good while now ever since you were placed on the task force, and he always found a way to disturb your peace. Whether it was the sound of his music, or telly being up too loud, or his booming laughter as he chatted on the phone, or his or his partner’s noises of pleasure as he fucked them into the squeaky bed the base provided.

Sure, you might have been jealous, picturing him above you, behind you, beneath you instead of them. Yes, you may have also touched yourself listening to his moans, wishing he was making those sounds for you, but you thought better of actually doing something about it. Pushed those feelings deep, deep down. Ruining the team dynamic, especially when you were the newest member put you more at risk than the others of transfer, or worse, discharge.

Shaking your head, you broke out of your chain of thoughts, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the report before you. Price wanted it by tomorrow. Demanded it by tomorrow. Cursing, you rested your forehead on your palms, trying to keep yourself awake as the half-empty cup of coffee remained stagnant next to you. Two pages left. That’s all you had to get through.

And then you heard it. A muffled moan from next door. Fucking Soap and his inability to keep it in his pants for more than a few days.

Clenching your teeth, you snapped your head over your shoulder, glaring at the wall as if you could curse him into silence. But, knowing Soap, this was only the beginning. The man knew how to fuck, and had the stamina to keep on going, meaning if you didn’t put a pin in this now, you were going to be listening to the sounds of your teammate fucking for the next few hours.

Sitting in your chair, you debated for a few minutes, wondering if it really was something you wanted to walk in on, or interrupt at the very least. Tapping your foot and the pen in your hand in a steady rhythm, you tried to focus on the report before you, but after another five minutes of staring into empty space and the sounds from next door filling your head, you caved. Pushing the chair back, you marched over to your adjoining wall, banging on it harshly.

“Keep it down, Soap! I have shit to do for Price.”

You thought that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t. As though he was intentionally trying to spite you, the noises got progressively louder, more frequent. You’d slammed on the wall more times than you’d care to admit before you finally snapped.

Slamming your door open, you march over to Soap’s room and bang your fist against his. But instead of it being solid, the door gave way, swinging open to reveal a scene you’d never thought you’d walk in on. Instead of Soap being on top of a pretty girl, he was on his knees, stark naked with his lips stretched wide around a thick cock that was being shoved down his throat. And not just any cock. Ghost’s cock. Your mouth sagged open slightly as your eyes flicked over the pair of them, taking in Soap’s bare form and comparing it to Ghost’s fully clothed one.

Making a small noise of protest, Soap shuffled his weight on his knees and went to pull back, but Ghost was quicker, gloved hand reaching down to grip Soap’s mohawk firmly, keeping him pressed into his crotch.

“Ah! Did I say you could move, pup?” Ghost’s voice was stern and deep, stirring something deep inside you. In reply, Soap whined, blinking up at the larger man. It was only then that you noticed tears streaming down his face. Your breath hitched as you finally turned your gaze towards Ghost who was staring directly at you.

His dark eyes were sharp and calculated, locking you in place as you stood stock still in the doorway. It was like your shoes were rooted to the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the erotic scene even if you tried.

“You just gonna stand there and gape at the slut?” Ghost cocked his head to the side, his eyes squinting in amusement. “Or are you gonna make yourself useful, Sergeant?”

The resolve in you crumbled. If Ghost and Soap could fuck with seemingly little consequence, surely you were fine to join as well. Feeling the heat bubble inside you, and your heart thump in your chest, you knew there was only one correct answer moving forward.

Swallowing thickly, you shut the door behind you.

Despite the balaclava covering his face, you could see the interest spark in Ghost’s eyes at your actions. His eyes crinkled as he looked down at Soap, who whined pitifully, drool leaking out the sides of his mouth as he held position.

“Seems like you’ve got another playmate, pup.” Ghost rumbled, carding his fingers through Soap’s hair gently as you walked forward, steps muffled by your socks on the wood floor. “You gonna put on a show for our guest?”

Soap moaned, wet lashes fluttering as glanced between you and Ghost before beginning to bob his head in a slow rhythm along Ghost’s cock. The masked man let out a sharp hiss, fingers gripping Soap’s hair roughly as he grunted in pleasure. You stood there, less than a metre away from the pair, watching, feeling the heat of arousal spread through your body, accumulating between your thighs. Your mind raced, wondering how exactly you were going to fit into this scenario, but that question was answered when Soap reached a hand up towards you, stretching out his fingers.

You kneel down next to him, lacing your fingers through his as his mouth continues to work. Soap’s own cock was rock hard, twitching slightly between his parted legs as the tip drooled pre-cum, pooling on the floor beneath him. He squeezes your hand in thanks and moans prettily, glancing towards you through the corners of his eyes and you grin, leaning in to purr into his ear.

“You’re doing such a good job, pup. Putting on such a good show for me, aren’t you?” Despite the Ghost bullying his heavy cock down Soap’s throat, he whined at your words, opening his mouth even wider to accomodate the thickness. You cooed at him encouragingly, your other hand tracing circles on his back as Ghost groaned.

Thrusting his hips forwards, he bumped his dick into the back of Soap’s throat causing him to gag. You could see the bulge of his cock every time he bucked his hips forwards, yet Soap swallowed eagerly, one hand laced in yours and the other resting on his thigh, twitching with every bounce of his cock.

It was now your turn to stare up at Ghost from your position on the floor and you almost wished you hadn’t. He was a sight. Large and imposing as he stood over the pair of you, eyes darkened with lust as he stared. Your mouth went dry as his mere gaze sent another rush of desire through you, shivers running up your spine as you squeezed your legs together, trying to stave off the lust. He reaches a gloved hand down to cup your cheek, then your neck, tipping your chin up to hold your attention.

“Can I touch him?” You breathed, voice barely audible over the excited yet muffled noises Soap was making at your words.

“Good pups don’t touch themselves.” Ghost answered, brow raising. “He can cum from just sucking me. Sure you don’t wanna see that?”

You had to admit, watching Soap cum without any direct stimulation would be enticing, but you couldn’t wait. You needed to touch him. After months of hearing him fuck, and presumably be fucked, you were finally getting to live out your deepest desire. You shake your head, keeping your eyes fixed on Ghost.

“Not right now. Wanna stroke his cock and watch him lose his mind as he gets you off.” Ghost simply cocked his head to the side before turning his attention back to Soap, but it was Soap who reacted viscerally. His hips stuttered; cock bobbed between his legs as he began to tremble. You felt a sly grin flash over your face.

“Look at you… so excited to be touched? Is that it?” Releasing his hand, you move your own to stroke his thigh, running your hand along the inside, feeling his muscles twitch beneath his skin. “Such a good pup, aren’t you.” He nodded as best he could with a cock down his throat.

Reaching down between his legs, you swipe a finger through the small pool of pre-cum on the floor and move to circle the head of his cock with your fingertip. He whined, hips canting forward to seek more stimulation, which you granted. Wrapping your hand around his cock, you began to stroke him with a light grip, in time with the bobbing of his head. Soap shivered, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hand touch, and he built up a steady rhythm, causing your hand to move quicker. He moaned, eagerly swallowing down Ghost’s dick to the base, causing him to hiss, gloved fingers tugging at Soap’s mohawk.

“Good fucking pup. Look at you. Swallowing me so well. Makin’ a fuckin’ mess as you do.” Ghost’s dark eyes flicked over to you, before reaching over and cupping your cheek. Breath hitching, you raised your head up to look as him as your hand continued to work over Soap’s slick cock.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl too. Takin’ care of my pup. Makin’ sure he doesn’t get too antsy. Can be a right pain in my ass sometimes.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as you ducked your head, glancing away from him and back to Soap who was pumping his hips forward, desperate for the pace to increase. His eyes flick to yours pleadingly and his hips moved, brows pinched together as he made a muffled noise of impatience.

“Stop touching him.” Ghost growled his command as he yanked Soap’s head back as you pulled your hand back quickly. Letting out a multitude of protests, Soap’s brows furrowed as he glared up at Ghost.

“The fuck did ah dae?” His tone was petulant, accent thick as he coughed, heaving air into his lungs.

“Bein’ fuckin’ impatient, pup.” Ghost leaned down, leering at Soap who squirmed under the stern gaze. “We have someone nice enough to come in and touch that needy cock of yours, and you’re actin’ like a brat. Rein it in, or I’m gonna fuck your face like a slag I’m payin’ and leave you hard and leaking.”

Soap kept his head low, but you could see the pout evident on his face. His eyes remained cast down as he nodded in response to Ghost’s words before reaching back up to fill his mouth. A strong hand pressed to his shoulder, stopping him going any further.

“Open your mouth and use it for fuckin’ words like your s’posed to.” Soap glowered, huffing before he turned his head towards you.

“Sorry fer bein’ impatient. Ye can touch me how ye want.” You smiled at him for a moment, before Ghost’s fingers tapped on your cheek, turning your attention to him.

“Keep him in line, or after I’m through with him, I’ll show you how to properly keep a pup in line.” His soft, yet deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and you felt wetness pool in your panties, sticking to you.

“Yes sir.” Ghost let out a barely audible breath at your submission as his thumb stroked along your cheek bone.

“Keep that up and maybe I’ll fuck you too sweet thing.” Your mouth parted as your head tilted back, angling slightly as Ghost stooped lower, as though he was about to kiss you through the mask before he pulled back. Wrapping a hand around the base of his thick cock, he fed it into Soap’s open and willing mouth, cupping the back of his head before thrusting deep. Soap gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept the dick deep in his throat as he swallowed around it.

Spitting on your hand, you wrapped it back around Soap’s cock, mixing between long, languid strokes down his full length and quick, sharp ones over his dripping head. Soap trembled at the changes, body shaking slightly as he remained still for you. Cooing into his ear, the pace of your hand increased slightly.

“Look at you, pup. Sitting so pretty for me now, aren’t you. Bet you look real sweet when you cum too.” Soap moaned out an affirmative, one of his hands cupping the back of Ghost’s muscled thigh as his other reached for your leg, resting high up near the apex of your thighs, but refusing to lift any higher until he was told so. You grinned at his good behaviour.

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Wanna be a good boy and spill all over my hand?” Soap moaned again, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he continued to suck off his teammate, messy and sloppy as drool dripped down his chin.

“Oh, fuck yeah, love. Make him moan like that again.” Ghost grunted; eyes closed as he continued to shallowly thrust. Not wanting to displease either man, you tightened your grip and swept your thumb along the ridges of Soap’s cock head, teasing his frenulum as you went. Letting out a keening sound, Soap’s dick twitched in your grip as his hips bucked into your hand, the grip on your thigh tightening.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Leaning forward, you whispered into Soap’s ear, before mouthing kisses down the line of his neck to his back as your other hand cupped his ass. “Come on, pup. Do it. Do it for me.”

The cock in his throat meant the moan came out garbled, but his hips jerked forward erratically as he reached his climax. With every heavy twitch of his cock in your hand, a thick pulse of cum shot out, adding to the mess already on the floor.

“Fuckin’ hell pup.” Ghost growled, both hands now gripping at Soap’s hair as the pace of his hips picked up, shallowly thrusting into Soap’s mouth as he moaned, eyes still rolling from his climax as Ghost used his teeth to take his right glove off before pulling out and stroking his cock roughly, releasing his load over Soap’s face, grunting as his whole body shivered, breath coming out in short pants.

Once he’d finished, Ghost tucked his cock back into his pants, before pulling the chair up from Soap’s desk and sitting down. Unsure of what to do next, you glanced over at him, brows furrowed slightly as you waited for direction. Noticing, Ghost cocked his head to the side, before his eyes squinted appraisingly.

“Soap could learn a thing or two from you, love. So well behaved, you are.” You went to face him, but he held up a hand, stopping you from moving any further. “The pup’s quite messy there. Why don’t you give him a hand cleaning all that up?”

Eyes widening, to glanced over to Soap, who was dragging a finger through the mess of cum on his face and holding it out to you.

“C’mon, bonnie thing. Show how good ye can be fer him. Fer us.” Soap’s eyes darkened as he stared at you expectantly and suddenly, you realised precisely how fucked you were.

Your eyes followed his hand as he held it out towards you, Ghost’s cum dripping down his finger enticingly. Without further thought, you leaned forward on your knees, lips closing around the outstretched digit. Soap’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced over at Ghost, his mouth dropping open slightly as you licked and sucked his finger clean of cum. Pulling back, you swiped your thumb over his cheekbone, and then, keeping your eyes fixed to Soap’s, you sucked your own thumb clean as well.

“Fucking Christ, hen.” His tone was breathy, his hands reaching out to push you down onto your ass on the cold floor. Your hands flew out behind you to break your fall as he nudged his way between your legs, pressing into your space with an intense need. “S’fuckin bonnie fer me. Been listening to me fer months, haven’t ye?” He whispered into your ear as his hands groped greedily at your body.

“Gonna make ye feel s’good, I promise.” You were barely able to process his words as he tugged at your shirt, shucking it up and tugging your bra down to expose your breasts so he could latch onto one with his teeth, moaning as he did so. Letting out a sharp gasp of pain, you smacked his shoulder, eyes staring down at him accusingly. Soap released your breast and pouted.

“Ye’ve got such bonnie tits, hen. Couldnae help maself.” His mouth spread wide in a toothy grin as he reached out to cup the breast he bit, squeezing it apologetically as his eyes traced over the marks his teeth left. “Wanted ye fer months. Thought ye wouldnae have me.”

“I wanted you.” You breathed; eyes wide with surprise at his confession. “Always did. Thought it ruin things. Thought that it wouldn’t be professional.” Even in your ears, the words were a weak excuse. Soap’s grin spread even wider.

“Touch yerself at the sound of me, aye?” His hands roamed your body, roughly groping at every piece of bare skin he could access. He lowered his mouth to your tits once more, sucking the nipple tenderly this time, tongue laving over the swell of your breast as he moaned. “Was extra loud fer ye too. Hopin’ ye’d break that door down sooner. Didnae take ye as the patient type.”

“Shut up.” You hissed, arching your back as his hand reached for your other nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. Lifting a hand up, you carded it through his hair, tugging at the strands lightly, his mouth still firmly attached to your breast, sucking dark, claiming marks into your skin.

“Tug it harder, love.” Came a rumbling voice from behind you. Breath hitching in surprise, you glanced up, remembering Ghost was still in the room watching the two of you intently. One hand sat at the seat of his pants, rubbing softly and you couldn’t help but moan at the sight. Blinking once more, you turned your attention back to Soap and, heeding Ghost’s instructions, tugged at the mohawk a little firmer. Soap let out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering slightly, but it wasn’t enough to break his attack your chest.

Closing your hand over his hair tighter, you pulled roughly, harder than you’d meant to, but you were rewarded with a strangled moan as you wrenched Soap back from your chest. His eyes were glassy as his hips canted forwards. Ghost mumbled his praise at the action, and you felt a stir in your chest.

“That’s nae fair, bonnie.” Soap growled. “Ye’ve had ye fun teasin’ me.” His brows furrowed as he pulled back, making you lose your grip on his hair. Moving quickly, he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand as the other reached for the buttons of your pants.

“Gonna show ye what I dae tae wee sluts who play dirty.” His eyes were wild as bore down on you, nose brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Gonna tease ye till yer gaggin fer ma cock.”

Before he could make another move though, a sharp whistle sounded, and you both snapped your heads up in Ghost’s direction. He was lounging back on the chair, head tilted and resting on one first as the other cupped his bulge. His eyes narrowed towards Soap.

“Thought I trained you better than that, pup. Manners.” The tone was stern, unwavering and was met with a soft whine from Soap. “Take her pants off and finger her pussy. If you make her come, you’ll get a reward.”

As though the instructions sparked something in Soap, his rough hands turned soft as he began to caress your body, slowly sliding up your sides to remove your shirt and bra properly. He cooed; eyes soft as they roamed appreciatively over your body. He dragged his hands down your torso, trailing down to the waistband of your pants. His breath was coming out in heaving pants as his fingers made quick work of the buttons, pulling both your pants and underwear down in one go.

“Steamin’ Jesus hen.” Soap groaned, throwing the clothes to the side so he could return his hands to your body, sliding over your ass and up your legs before spreading them apart, eyes focused on your soaked cunt. The heat and desire in his eyes alone made your cunt pulse. “Jus’ wanna sink ma teeth into ye.”

“Play nice, pup. Don’t wanna break your chew toy too early.” Ghost muses from his spot. Your eyes meet his and suddenly, you realise just how exposed you were. Soap may have also been naked, but the way Ghost’s eyes were roaming over your bare body and grinding against his palm made your face heat.

“Cannae help maself, Lt.” Soap leaned down, mouth trailing kisses along your thigh, working his way down towards the apex of them. His teeth dragged over the sensitive skin, leaving red marks, but not hard enough to break skin. You felt your body jerk as his warmth breath fanned over your leaking cunt and you whine pitifully.

“Please… Soap. Need it. Need you.” Your hands pushed through his hair, gripping tightly as you tried to angle his face towards your wetness. Groaning at your impatience, he lowered his mouth, flat tongue dragging a line from your hole to clit. Letting out a shuddering gasp, you arched your back, fingers tugging at his mohawk to hold him close. But that didn’t last long.

The chair creaked as Ghost pushed himself up, boots heavy as he marched over and wrenched Soap’s head up unkindly, causing him to cry out. “I said, finger her pussy, not eat it, impatient slag.” He spat in Soap’s ear, voice low and harsh. You whined at the loss, bucking your hips up to chase his mouth, but Ghost’s hand pushed you back down. “Look at you both. Such greedy fucking whores. You take what I tell you to.”

Your brows pinched as you stared up at Ghost.

“Please Ghost… please I need it. Need his mouth on me.” Reaching out, you clasped your hand over one of his thick forearms, squeezing as your eyes pleaded up to him. Ghost sighs, bringing one hand up to sweep the hair from your face as he leans in to whisper into your ear, other hand still firmly gripping Soap’s hair, causing him to huff petulantly as he was dragged away.

“The pup’s gotta learn to listen, love. I’m not punishing you, yet anyway. If you’re good, and you cum on Johnny’s fingers, he can eat you out. Got it?” He leaned back slightly, eyes soft as he waited expectantly for your reply. Nodding in response, you went to look down at Soap again, but Ghost’s rough hand in your hair stopped you. “No. Words, love. If I ask you a question, you answer it with words.”

“Yes, I got it.” You breathed; eyes glassy as you stared up at him. “I’ve got it sir. I’m sorry.” Ghost let out a gentle sigh, hand releasing your hair as he stroked your chin tenderly.

“There’s a good girl f’me.” His gaze then hardens as he turns to face Soap. “Remember the rules, pup. You listen to me. Now finger her wet cunt until she cums or you won’t be getting your dick wet.” Soap’s nose crinkled slightly; brows furrowed as he stared at Ghost.

“That’s nae fair, Lt. The lass was leakin’. Pure gaggin’ fer it.” His hands run gentle lines on your inner thighs as he spoke, and you felt the anticipation rising.

“Then make sure to use those fingers to make it good for her and she’ll get it. You always yabber on about how good you are at pleasing pussy. Show me, then.” Ghost cocks his head expectantly and you felt like nothing but a toy for Soap to play with in that instant, and boy if that didn’t send a fresh wave of arousal down your spine.

“I’m better with ma mouth than ma fingers.” He sulked, pouting up at his superior.

“Then you’d better learn quick, Johnny.” Despite the mask, you could hear the grin, see his eyes crinkling as he waved his hand towards your cunt. “Go on, pup. She got you off with her hand. Return the favour.”

Mumbling incoherently, Soap trailed his fingers towards your wet cunt, eyes flicking up to meet yours and smirking slightly. Dragging the tips of his fingers through, he gathered your wetness and began to circle your clit slowly. Shuffling forward slightly, he leaned over you before hesitating and turning back to Ghost.

“Can ah suck her tits?” His question was measured, as if he hated asking permission, but thought better of it. Ghost chuckled behind the mask.

“Good pup for askin’. Does she want you to suck her tits?” Soap snapped his head down to you, eyes wide as pleading. Grinning, you nodded encouragingly.

“Please, Soap.” Grabbing at your breasts, you shoved them together enticingly, causing Soap to moan and lean forward, burying his face between them, tongue dragging over the warm flesh before his mouth closes over one nipple, sucking intently as his fingers flick over your clit.

Moaning softly, you spread your legs wider, encouraging him to keep going. And he did. His fingers were on the rough side as he continued to roam, trying to find what you liked. Reaching down, you moved his hand slightly, positioning it exactly how you liked it, and he took it on board, working his fingers in this new spot as his teeth closed over your nipple, making you cry out.

“Pathetic. Needing to be shown where she likes it pup. Can’t find it on ya own?” Ghost rumbled, shaking his head as he continued to brush a hand through your hair tenderly. “Look at her cunt, weeping and clenching round nothing. Come on, pup. You’re not even trying to make her cum.”

Soap whined at the words and, desperate to prove himself, his fingers moved to circle your hole before pushing two in. You hissed slightly at the sudden stretch of his thick fingers but moaned as his thumb continued to flick over your clit and clenched down on his fingers.

“Curl them upwards.” Ghost whispered, his other hand trailing down to where Soap’s was between your legs. You twitched as you felt the rough material of his gloves against your sensitive pussy. ��Get that spot right in here.” You couldn’t stop the loud moan that broke through your lips as Soap followed the instructions, hand reaching down to grip at his wrist as your hips ground against his fingers, building up a steady rhythm.

Grinning darkly against your chest, Soap continued to suck at your breasts, squeezing and nipping at the sensitive skin as your pussy squeezed around him, slick dripping down onto the hard floor beneath you.

“That’s it, bonnie. Fuck yerself on ma fingers. Can feel ye clenchin’. Dinnae ye wanna cum fer me? Ye can dae it.” He rambled; voice muffled against your chest as he quickened his pace at your clenching.

“Don’t speed up.” Ghost admonished him, smacking his hand down where Soap’s was inside you, causing you to jolt. “If she likes it, keep steady. She’ll let you know if she wants the pace changed.” You moaned in response to Ghost’s words, one hand clutching at Soap’s wrist, the other reaching for Ghost to squeeze him in thanks.

“Just like that, Johnny. Keep it like that!” Panting, you continued to grind down on his fingers. He pulled off your tits, leaning down to spit on your clit before bringing his other hand over to rub over it like you showed him before. Gasping, you squeezed around his fingers tighter, feeling your impending climax build. His hungry eyes bored into yours, his face twisting into a leering sneer.

“Feels good aye? Gonna cum, bonnie? Make a mess all over ma fingers?” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you whined, hand squeezing his wrist to hold him inside you, pleading silently for him not to pull out. “Nae goin’ anywhere. Stayin’ right here til ye cum.”

Your eyes rolled as you moaned, head falling back, only for a rough hand to grasp your hair and pull you back up.

“You keep lookin’ at him, love and you don’t look away. Show him how fucked out you look when you cum.” Ghost’s words were harsh as he positioned himself behind you but sent a sharp bolt of heat through you and Soap moaned as he felt your cunt clench and pulse. “Yeah, that’s it, love. Be a good girl now. Show him how good he’s makin’ you feel.”

“So fu- ah! So fucking good, sir.” You blinked up at Ghost, whose eyes were wide and feral. Adjusting you slightly, he pressed his hips into your back, and you felt his stiff erection pressing against your shoulder.

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me? Feel how hard you’ve made me? Been such a good girl yeah? Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty with your fucked out face when you ain’t even had a cock in you yet.” Panting at Ghost’s harsh words, you glanced back down at Soap, eyes wide and desperate.

“I’m gonna cum. Soap please! I can’t...” He shook his head, body trembling.

“Give it tae me, hen. Please. Been such a good fuckin’ lass fer us. Show me how bonnie ye look when ye cum, aye?” Your brain was going into overdrive, stimulated by not only Soap fingers, but his and Ghost’s desperate words, the intensity of their eyes on you… you felt yourself crumbling, careening towards the edge as one more flick of Soap’s fingers sent you over.

Jerking your hips, you cried out, body shaking as Ghost wrapped his arms around you, cooing in your ear and talking you through your orgasm, but you couldn’t make sense of the words. Soap’s fingers softly worked you through your release, slowly pumping in and out of you until he felt your body sag. Withdrawing his digits, he held them out to Ghost, a sly grin on his face.

“Wanna taste, Lt?” Looking up lazily at the two of them, you noted Ghost’s narrowed eyes. But they weren’t focused on Soap due to his coy request, but rather his glistening fingers soaked with your climax. Pulling the balaclava up to expose his mouth, Ghost leaned forward, sucking Soap’s thick fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste. Whining softly at the erotic sight, you reached back behind you, trying to wrap your hand around his clothed cock, but his gloved hand stopped you.

“Not right now, love. Need to see Johnny fuck you.” He whispered, squeezing your wrist tenderly before lifting himself up a little straighter. “C’mon pup. I can see you leaking from here.”

“Och, I thought I was eatin’ her out next!” He grumbled, body already halfway shifted to put his head between your legs.

“Plans changed. You can eat your cum out of her. Need to see her crying on a cock, now.” His voice was urgent, as he pressed his palm into his aching erection. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

At the warning, Soap scrambled back up your body, lowering his head to capture your lips in a kiss for the first time. His tongue pressed into your mouth, sweeping over yours as he shuffled his legs up until you felt the heat of his hard dick against your sensitive pussy. Everything about him was demanding and insistent, impatient as one hand clawed at your breast. The other was wrapped around his cock, sliding it up and down the length of your wet slit, catching your clit with his head and causing you to jerk. Breaking away from the kiss, you surged up, eyes transfixed on the glistening head of his cock, covered in your slick.

Grinning savagely, he pressed inside, both hands gripping at your hips as he let out a throaty groan as your own breath stuttered, reaching out to grasp at his arm for stability.

“Steamin’ hell she’s tight, Lt. Like she’s nae been fucked in a wee bit.” His nails dug into the skin of your waist, surely leaving marks that would remain for days after. Ghost grunted and you heard him unzipping his pants. Glancing over, you watched as he pulled out his heavy cock, thick and hard with his tip flushed and leaking. Tugging his glove off, he held out his hand to Soap, who spat on it without a second thought. Then, he held his hand out to you with an expectant look. Without hesitation, you spat in his palm as well and he moaned, closing his hand around his cock and pumping it steadily.

Before you’d even gotten accustomed to his size, Soap began to thrust, hard and fast from the get-go. He buried his face into your neck, whining and rambling nonsense about how good it was, but most of it was incoherent, his accent thickening as he continued to erratically slam his hips into your cunt. You hissed, the pace bordering on being not pleasurable as he grasped your hips tighter.

“Soap…” you whined, pressing against his shoulders, but the man was unmovable, lost in his own head. Your eyes flicked up desperately to Ghost, who huffed, shuffling down Soap’s body to place a resounding smack on his ass. Yelping, Soap sprung up, cock pulling out of you entirely as he spun around to glare reproachfully at Ghost.

“That hurt, Simon.” He pouted, brows furrowed. Ghost snorted, clearly not feeling sorry.

“You’re pathetic, pup. Losing your head the moment you get your dick in something warm, and you wonder why I don’t let you fuck me.” Soap ducked his head, face flushing as he let out a whine of protest.

“Felt so good, Lt. Couldnae help maself. Her bonnie pussy was grippin’ me like a vice.” He glanced over at you, eyes apologetic, but with a spark of lust, as if he enjoyed Ghost telling him off.

“Not just about you, pup. Do I need to show you how to fuck a pussy?” Soap shook his head indignantly, turning his back on Ghost to bring his attention towards you. Running his calloused hands down your legs, he wrapped them around his waist as the head of his cock caught against your wet hole. Moaning, he slides back inside with ease, hands reaching for your tits once more as he set a better pace, rolling his hips and catching your clit with his pubic hair every pass.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He growled, mouth lowering to latch onto your nipples, tonguing over them as he continued his slow, grinding pace. “Such bonnie tits. Such a bonnie cunt too. Fuck lass, ye been holdin’ out on me. Could have fucked ye sooner if ye weren’t so stubborn.”

Between Soap’s praise, his rocking hips, and the insistent press of his cock inside your cunt, you felt like you were melting into the floor below you.

“Just like that, Soap. God, your cock feels so good in me.” Your hands dragged red lines down his back, causing his pace to stutter and pick up again. Moaning, you felt your second orgasm edging closer as he continued, bucking his hips up to grind against the spongy spot his fingers had fun into before. Ghost kneeled just off to the side, stroking his dick in time with Soap’s thrusts, grunting every time he swiped his thumb over the head.

“That’s it, Johnny. Keep fucking her like that. Doing a good job for once, pup. Touch her clit like she showed ya too.” Soap’s face was flushed as he nodded along with Ghost’s words, reaching down between you. His hips stuttered as you clenched around him at the contact, moaning as his pace fumbled again, legs shaking as his thrusts sped up, breath coming out in short pants. You whined softly, feeling your orgasm fade with the change in pace. Scoffing, Ghost moved behind him, gripping Soap’s hips to halt him once more.

“Losing your head again, pup?” He titters, shaking his head as he mouthed along Soap’s neck. “I’ll show you how to really fuck her, since you clearly can’t without blowing your load early.”

Soap smacked one of the large hands off his hips, glaring over his shoulder.

“Fuck off. I can fuck her just fine. You can wait ye fuckin’ turn, ye bastard.”

Instead of being offended, Ghost chuckled darkly.

“You’re losing her when it starts feelin’ too good for you. But don’t worry pup. I won’t be fucking her.” His arms reach down, tracing over Soap’s to place his hands on your hips as well, holding you steady. At the look in Ghost’s eye, you whimpered softly, cunt squeezing around Soap, causing him to twitch. “I’m going to fuck you into her. Still got that plug in ya, right slag?”

Your eyes widened, realising what was about to happen. Soap was practically vibrating between your legs, breath stuttering as his eyes became unfocused.

“Wouldnae be able to hold it if ye fucked me too.” His voice cracked as he stared over at Ghost.

“Too bad, pup. Already showed me you can’t fuck a pussy properly. Need me to show you how. You alright with that, sweetheart?” He glanced over Soap’s shoulder as his hands reached down to toy with the plug in Soap’s hole that you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyes were wide as you nodded fiercely before remembering Ghost’s earlier request.

“Yes sir… want you to fuck him into me please.” With the mask still lifted up above his mouth, you could see his appreciative grin.

“Good fucking girl. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you what you need.” He reaches his hand down to your mouth, holding out his fingers. “Get them wet f’me, yeah?” Nodding, you lean your head up, sucking his fingers into your mouth, letting saliva pool on your tongue before swiping between the thick digits, tasting the lingering muskiness of his cock on them. Ghost let out a deep rumbling sound in his throat as he began to shove his fingers deeper, pressing down into your throat, gagging you slightly. Cooing softly, Ghost stroked the pads of his fingers along your tongue. “That’s it, love. Just like that.”

Between you both, Soap whined, tipping his head back to rest on Ghost’s shoulder.

“Please, Simon. Please.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Ghost pressed his thick digits into Soap, causing him to fall forward, hands either side of your head as his cock twitched inside you. Breathing softly, you watched his face crease, his brows pinching as his mouth hung open.

“Fuck Si… right there!” He gasped, breath hitching as he rocks his hips back onto Ghost’s fingers, and forwards into your wet cunt. His hands clenched into fists as he opened his eyes to stare into yours before leaning down and sealing his lips over yours once more, hips beginning that same slow, filthy grind. Wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close, you pressed your tongue into his mouth in a messy kiss, swirling it around his.

Your head grew hazy as time passed and you felt your orgasm returning as Soap picked up the pace of his grinding, stimulating your clit as his hands tweaked at your nipples.

“Fuckin’ hell. Still so fuckin’ wet from earlier, pup.” Ghost withdrew his fingers before pressing the blunt head of his cock, catching it against the rim of Soap’s hole, causing him to jerk, fingers digging into your hips. “That’s it, pup. Open up f’me. Let me in ya.” One of Ghost’s large hands wrapped around Soap’s neck, pulling him up and breaking your kiss with him. The other gripped Soap’s hip, pressing in slowly with a loud groan until his hips sat flush against Soap’s. Releasing his neck, Ghost placed his other hand on your hip, squeezing you softly. He set a slow, but harsh pace, hips smacking into Soap’s, causing his cock to punch deep into you as he did so.

Letting out a choked gasp, Soap fell forward again, burying his face into your neck and peppering the sweaty skin with nipping kisses as his hips were pushed forwards into you. Rocking back against him, your hands clutched at his hair desperately, cupping the back of his head as your other hand reach out to Ghost’s thick forearm. Your head was spinning, a strangled noise leaving your mouth as Soap’s tongue dragged its way up your neck.

“Tastes so good, hen. Feel so fuckin’ good too. Wanna feel ye cum ‘round me, please.” One hand tangled in your hair as the other reached down to your clit once more, sending shivers down your spine.

Ghost continued his pace, the loud slapping of skin filling the room as his breathing grew heavier. Soap was also growing desperate, driving his hips forwards and backwards, stimulating himself over and over as his thumb continued to flick over your clit.

“That’s it pup. Doin’ s’fuckin’ well.” Reaching down, Ghost added his own thumb to the mix, flicking over your clit to make sure Soap didn’t lose his rhythm, his eyes catching yours. “Fuckin’ hell look at you, love. So bloody pretty. Can barely look at me, can ya? Cock feels that good, yeah?” He chucked, whispering something inaudible into Soap’s ear as you arched your back, feeling that brink edge closer.

“Ghost… Soap.” You weren’t sure which name to call as you felt your body twitch, pussy clenching around Soap’s cock as he continued to buck his hips into your wetness. You could feel yourself beginning to spiral, eyes locking onto Soap’s face as he panted heavily, a soft whine leaving his lips after every one of Ghost’s heavy thrusts.

“Bonnie… tell me yer close… I’m so fuckin’ close. Need tae feel ye cum first. Please… fuck, oh fuck please. Need it real bad.” Soap practically whispers, one hand clutching at your breasts, your hips, your legs as his other still pressed between you both, covered by Ghost’s larger one.

“Good fuckin’ pup, Johnny. Beggin’ for her to cum ‘n all.” Ghost’s voice was rougher, sweat beaded on his brow as he quickened his pace, fucking into Soap with angled thrusts that made him shiver and whine. “Come on love, you can do it. You can cum for him. Make the pup feel real good, yeah?”

All you could do was nod and moan, fingers digging into weathered skin as your cunt began to pulse rhythmically. One final hard thrust from Ghost pushed Soap up deeper into you as their combined thumbs over your clit sent you hurtling off the edge. As your toes curled with the sensation, your back lifted off the hard floor, hands clutching at the two men desperately as your head spun.

Soap followed soon behind, thrusting quick and sharp up into your clenching cunt before releasing inside, cock twitching and releasing his load deep inside you as he shook with pleasure.

As he shivered through his orgasm, Soap leaned forward, collapsing on your chest as your arms wrapped instinctually around him, both panting in tandem. Not wanting to be left high and dry, Ghost pulled his hips back and set a merciless pace, pounding into Soap’s hole until he began stuttering.

“So fuckin’ tight, pup. Both of you… so fuckin’ pretty. Good fucking sluts. So good f’me. Gonna fuck both of ya next time. Wanna see how good you sit for me, love.” He rambled, eyes half closed as his pace turned erratic until he slammed his hips forward with a low grunt, stomach clenching from the effort as he emptied his load deep into Soap.

Moaning softly at the feeling, Soap stirred, looking over his shoulder accusingly.

“Ye ken I hate shittin’ out cum, ye eejit.” He grumbled, nestling his face into your chest, his soft cock slipping out and resting wetly against your thigh. Grimacing slightly, you glanced up at Ghost, who had a dazed smile on his face. He looked at you, as though assessing the situation before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Get over it, Johnny. You beg me to cum in ya more often than not.” He shook his head before returning his attention to you, cupping your cheek softly. “Did so well for me, for us. You up for doing this again?”

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes wide and hopeful as Ghost grinned, pushing back from the bed and standing up.

“I’ll get cloths from the bathroom. You take care of our girl, right Johnny?” Soap simply hummed, burying his face further between your tits as Ghost scowled, but smiled and walked away.

“I’ll eat ye out in the mornin’ hen. Good wake-up call fer ye.” He rumbled against your chest.

Grinning to yourself, you threaded your hand through Soap’s hair, holding him close as you felt yourself settle, being lulled to sleep by the warm body that was sprawled on yours. Price’s reports could wait.

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inkykeiji · 10 months ago

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⋆₊˚⊹♡ 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

characters: vox, val, alastor, lucifer warnings: implied smut in some; 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink (+ papi for val), toxic relationships, pet/master dynamic (for alastor), reader is a bit of a brat with vox, implied drugging the night before (val), praise + pet names, fem!reader, reader is carried in val’s words: 2.7k

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐨𝐱 ⊹˚₊

You love mornings with your Daddy—truly, you do; love waking up next to him, slow and soft as his fingertips outline your features; love eating breakfast with him, feet kicking back and forth on one of the barstools as he prepares something simple for the two of you, know that he had to pull teeth to get the mornings off of work so he could spend them with you, getting you ready for the day and seeing you off—but there is one part, right at the very end, that you absolutely despise.

Like everything with Vox, dental hygiene is a meticulous procedure, a rigorous routine with a set of immutable steps to be followed in the exact order Vox has laid them out in—carved into concrete, set in stone.

And, like everything else with Vox, no one knows how to perform them correctly except for him.

Still, it isn’t like you ever make it easy for him.

What else could he expect from his little troublemaker, really?

“Open up.”

A thumb and a forefinger clamp down on the hinges of your jaw, palm wreathed around your chin, and squeeze, popping your mouth open with practiced efficiency.

“Daddy,” the word comes out as a stringy whine, slightly garbled, face crumpling in petulance. “Dun wanna.”

Jerking a little in his grasp, you try to pull away from the advancing toothbrush slathered with translucent teal gel, and Vox clicks his tongue.

“And I don’t care,” he says simply, fingers flexing in warning. “Good little girls need to brush their teeth—especially if they’ve eaten two bowls of sugary cereal for breakfast.”

“But—”

Vox pulls back, face flattened into something serious. “Do you want cavities eating holes in your teeth?”

“No—”

“Didn’t think so. Now hold still and let Daddy do this for you, yeah?”

A groan vibrates on the back of your tongue, but your body goes pliant in his grasp, chin leaning into his pillowy palm.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs to himself, a small smug smile on his face.

Warmth blossoms in your chest, swells your lungs and stretches your ribs as you droop a little more beneath his praise and he chuckles, a fond little melody playing on his tongue, grip tightening infinitesimally.

And he’s so precise with it all, maneuvers painstakingly perfect as he tilts your head one way, then the other, sure to scrub each tooth thoroughly, bristles scouring in little circular motions as he cleanses.

“Aaaah,” he hums, mimicking the action as he pries his mouth open wider, another praise falling from his lips as you instantly obey, allowing him to reach the molars at the very back of your mouth—brushing on top, on either side, behind, then on top again.

“Tongue out.”

Another whine sticks in your throat, brows pushing together and crinkling your forehead, open mouth downturned in a frown with a slight shake of your head, struggling against his hold.

“Come, now,” Vox chastises, but his voice is hard, fortified with a subtle threat. “You were doing so well for me—don’t start acting up, Daddy’s almost done.”

His gaze holds yours steadily, a single eyebrow raising in question—are you really going to test me?—and you cave, again.

Reluctantly, your tongue unfurls from your mouth, face still scrunched in irritation as he scrapes the bristles across the muscle, working up a healthy lather, refusing to cease until that telltale disgruntled whine claws at your throat, evoking another one of those patronizing little chuckles.

“Alright, alright,” he’s pacifying as he tips a glass to your lips, a palm cupped protectively beneath your chin. “Rinse.”

And, Christ, he loves how fucking obedient you are, even as the urge to misbehave bubbles behind your ribs, lips set in a deep pout as you follow his instructions, swishing a mouthful of water between your cheeks, waiting perfect and patient for his next order.

“Spit.”

Oh, so compliant, so disciplined you are as you instantly spew blue liquid down the drain, a fierce sense of pride, of ownership, igniting deep within his soul, blazing bright and hot and strong, reflected in the amplified glowing of his eyes.

Your features are still scrunched up in a cute little pout, glaring at him through your lashes, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” A thumb runs along your forehead, attempting to iron out the crease between your brows in a gentle caress.

“It was awful.”

“Fucking brat.”

And he just can’t help but laugh out the word, the sting the insult should bring instantly negated by the tender affection it’s smothered in, turned soft and melty on his tongue.

No, you never make such endeavours painless for him, but you do always make them interesting, and for that, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 ⊹˚₊

It’s late in the afternoon when Val decides it’s time to get up, deep crimson light spilling through the narrow gaps in his thick curtains and painting thin, long strokes across the shag carpet.

He doesn’t bother formally waking you as two of his hands scoop you from the nest of silk and cradle you to his body, chuckling out a coo as you automatically snuggle into his chest, legs latching around his waist.

The haze of sleep still hangs heavy in your skull, a soft protest grumbled into his skin as he carries you somewhere, lids staying firmly glued shut, body beginning to melt into his again as the bliss of unconsciousness entices you with promises of whimsical dreams and relief from your aching muscles.

Cold marble stings your bare thighs suddenly, forcing a small jolt through your form, a soft hiss exhaled from between your teeth.

“I know, I know, it’s cold,” Val pacifies, his voice a pleasant fog curling around your cheeks as he leans around you, tinkering with something.

“Papi,” you whimper, reaching blindly for him, lethargic head falling forward, forehead pressed tightly to his sternum.

“Mmm, I’m here,” he murmurs distractedly, two of his hands still wrapped firmly around your hips as the other set busy themselves with uncapping a tube of toothpaste.

“Wanna go back to bed,” you slur out in a whine, nose nuzzling into his chest, fruitlessly looking for a place to rest your head, dense drowsiness curling the edges of your mind.

“But it’s time to get up, princesa,” he chides gently, a finger tracing the curve of your cheek. “You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.”

“M’still tired.”

A hum of contemplation vibrates at the back of his tongue as a hand twines around your jaw, examining your face this way, then that, before tilting your chin up.

“Maybe I gave you a little too much last night,” he muses to himself through a dark snicker. “It’s kinda cute that you’re still this fucked up, though. Can’t even open your eyes for me, can you?”

And you try, really, you do, attempting to heft your leaden lids, features screwing up cutely with the immense effort, and Val coos again, as if your intoxication is so pathetically precious—poor little girl can barely handle her Daddy’s drugs! How sweet.

“Well, that’s okay,” he purrs, first pair of hands slipping further beneath his dress shirt—a makeshift nightgown, his favourite nightgown on you—and tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything; Papi will do it for you.”

A sound of indignation sticks in your throat as you finally pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the bathroom, bleary gaze fixed on the sparkly pink toothbrush in one of his hands, face rumpling into a pout.

Your lips press into a tight, firm line, sealing your mouth against the rapidly advancing utensil as your eyes slip shut again, weighted with narcotic-laced exhaustion, head shaking in messy little motions.

“C’mon, be co-operative,” the points of his nails dig into your skin, hard enough to leave superficial indents—a warning. “Don’t upset Daddy this early in the day, baby.”

Wrenching your eyes open again, your nose twitches with a sniffle, chin beginning to quiver.

“But—But—Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to,” he says, but his voice trembles with the effort to stay calm, to stay pleasant. “Your mouth is very dirty from last night, and it needs to be cleaned.”

A thick torrent of tears rush to cloud your vision, sudden and stinging, a hiccup stuttering your chest. The hand curved around your jaw tightens, yanking your face toward his own, foreheads knocking together.

“Now, open, before I make you open.”

Your jaw falls slack, a slave to his orders, unable to disobey a direct demand from its owner, and Val purrs, something wicked unravelling on his face, smile stretched sharp and sleazy from edge to edge, the glow in his eyes flaring with your instant compliance.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Alastor, you’ve come to learn, has a plethora of odd regimes; stringently scheduled customs that are non-negotiable, that extend to you, including brushing your teeth.

It’s become routine, now—habitual, as most things with Alastor are—and your days no longer feel right without it; weird, off, incomplete.

Because it’s become something of a comfort; something so simple, yet so intimate, something calming and rewarding, something to look forward to—a moment shared between the two of you, twice a day, once at the beginning, and once at the end.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you try tell him, the first time he insists on doing it, trying desperately to look over your shoulder as he ushers you into his ensuite.

“Nonsense!” he waves a hand in dismissal. “It isn’t a problem at all. Now, sit.”

“Alastor—”

“Sit.”

With a tiny frown, you perch gingerly on the edge of the bathtub, fingers curling around the rim.

“I’m serious,” you murmur, teeth nibbling superficially at the skin of your lip, wary eyes watching as he flits with practiced ease around the bathroom, a twinge of confusion settling in your chest, something akin to shame sitting thick and bitter on the back of your tongue. “I can do it myself…”

“I know you can,” he replies simply, focused on depositing a strip of white toothpaste on your toothbrush.

“Then…” you blink up at him, watching him advance with wide eyes, shoulders shrinking as he blankets you in his shadow. “Why are you doing it for me?”

Irritation twitches at the edges of his grin, Alastor exhaling a controlled sigh.

“Because,” he begins, keeping his voice light, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb. “A good Master takes proper care of his pet.”

His grip strengthens, tilting your face up further, his form looming over your own as you sit, vulnerable and exposed, beneath his touch. Crimson eyes glow as they scour your face, his back bent at an uncomfortable angle as he practically curls around you, the scent of earth and cedar tinged with copper wafting across your face with his calm, even breaths.

“Besides,” he continues, voice dropped an octave lower, his nose nearly nudging yours. “I couldn’t possibly trust you to do it adequately.”

A cruel little chuckle plays on his tongue, as if the mere thought itself is preposterous, the sound stinging as it seeps into your cheeks, hot and full of spikes.

“Now, open.”

Instantly, your mouth falls agape, and Alastor’s smile stretches infinitesimally wider, a sharp glint flaring in his eyes.

“A good owner maintains their pet’s hygiene,” he explains as he works, gaze fixed intently on his actions, cleansing with a meticulous sort of vigilance. “Bathes them, grooms them, dresses them—performs all of the basic necessities a pet needs to appear presentable.”

His hand shifts slightly, angling your head to the side, and you follow easily, malleable in his grasp, his smile shimmering.

“And I pride myself on taking very good care the things that belong to me.”

And, really, he does. Because Alastor doesn’t just brush your teeth with rigorous care, conscientiously certain to cleanse every dip and gap; he flosses them, too, with gentle hands and painstaking precision, then ensures you’ve rinsed with germ-killing, enamel-strengthening mouthwash for exactly forty-five seconds, counting uniformly and observing with large, unblinking eyes as you adhere to his every instruction, cheeks bulging with burning liquid, eyes squinting from the intensity, but never daring to blink, to glance away, to stop at all.

“Look at you,” he purrs after you’ve spit down the drain, gazing back up at him with a sort of desperate devotion—demented, devious, damned to his hell—syrupy condescension dripping from his teeth. “So well behaved for me, aren’t you?”

A palm cups your jaw, his thumb running across your cheek in rhythmic strokes, the tip of his claw caressing your skin with just enough pressure to leave behind shallow scratches.

“What, hoping Master will give you a treat for being so obedient?”

“No, Sir,” you whimper out, voice gone dreamy as you nuzzle into his hand. “You taking such good care of me is more than enough.”

Something sinister oozes into his face, something that contorts his smile and corrodes his eyes, leaving behind nothing but raw hunger, like he’s about to devour you whole, pops of static fizzing thickly in his voice.

“That’s my good girl.”

₊˚⊹ 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Everything hurts, muscles stiff and aching and full of sand, your motions clumsy and cumbersome as you attempt to brush your teeth, joints creaking with every slight shift.

Fatigue blurs the edges of your eyes, your vision fading out of focus again, mind gone fuzzy as you try your best to concentrate on your movements—up, down, all around, repeat—features screwing up in a wince as you catch the harsh bristles on your gums, again.

“You’re making a bit of a mess, sleepyhead,” Lucifer’s tender chuckle pulls you from your foggy stupor, a quiet hum vibrating in your throat as you look over at him in question, the gesture lethargic and delayed.

“You’ve got some—Here,” he says softly, hands curling around your shoulders and turning you to face him, then tilting your chin up. “May I?”

Another affirmative sounds on the back of your tongue and Lucifer uses his thumb to carefully clean the foaming paste collecting at the corners of your mouth, then catching a slow dribble streaming down your chin with a deft knuckle.

A frown mars his face, his forehead creasing beneath the strain, his other hand stroking your shoulder as worried eyes search your face, slow and careful.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “You’re really struggling to brush your teeth.”

“Jus—really tired,” you mumble through the bubbles in your mouth, Lucifer skillfully catching another trickle of watery paste, concern tugging at the corners of his lips, frown deepening.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

Sleepy eyes blink up at him, slow and sluggish, your hazy mind taking a moment to process the question.

“Mhmm,” you finally nod, hand loosening the instant his fingers skim yours, allowing him to gently uncurl your grip from around the base of your toothbrush, his own effortlessly taking its place.

“Alright, alright, Daddy will help you,” he’s pacifying in a murmur, but his gaze has turned melty, glow dimmed and pupils gaping, lids heavy with love. “Poor thing…Last night was a long night for you, huh?”

“S’a lot,” you confirm in a messy mumble, lids drooping heavily with the weight of exhaustion.

“Yeah?” his thumb rubs loving little circles into your jaw as he works, gaze trained on his task. “Was Daddy a little too rough with you?”

The question is uttered out tenderly, full of sympathy and care, his brow furrowing as his eyes flit back to yours, searching for veracity in your pupils.

“Maybe I should be a bit gentler next—”

“No!” you cough around the refusal, puffy lids snapping open suddenly, the unexpected vehemency causing Lucifer to flinch.

“No?” he laughs, and it’s warm with affection, his features, hard with worry, mollifying beneath fondness, amorous amusement twinkling daintily in his eyes.

“No,” you whine out with a tiny pout, head shaking a little in his grasp. “Please.”

“Okay,” the pad of his thumb runs along your cheek, his stare trailing after it. “If nothing else, at least Daddy will always be there to take care of you the morning after.”

#alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel drabble #lucifer smut #valentino smut #alastor x you #lucifer x you #vox x you #valentino x you #inky.hazbin

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beardedjoel · 11 months ago

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pretty little wife | crazy 4 u

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: valentine's day special! joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, soft dom! joel, free use kink, orgasm denial if you squint hard, unprotected piv, rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, choking/breath play, pet names for reader, praise kink, romantic as fuck husband joel this chapter, some domestic fluff, alcohol consumption, maybe maybe maybe there is a breeding kink moment, reader has hair that can be pulled a/n: they're so in love it makes me SICK!!! thank you so much for reading and loving this couple along with me, and happy galentine's and valentine's day my loves! 💋💗💌

reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

You quietly squeal to yourself as you start to tear open the newly delivered package on your way back inside from the mailbox. You look down at the assortment of pale pastel candies, all strung up on thin strands, waiting to be devoured. Your own curiosity and lack of self control nearly has you reaching in the box to break one off for yourself, but you hold back, reminding yourself just who you bought this for and why.

Valentine’s Day is in two days, but you’d wanted to get a jump, giving Joel a more playful vibe today considering you know he’ll have gotten you something sexy and downright depraved to wear on the actual holiday. Your skin tingles at the thought, recalling all of the things he’d had you wear in the past. Your most memorable being crotchless panties under a skin tight dress at dinner one Valentine’s Day, so he could finger fuck you under the table at one of Austin’s finest restaurants. Keeping your face straight during that had been painstaking, but you’d loved every minute of the debauched public display. When you’d asked Joel why he hadn’t just had you go sans underwear that night, he’d smiled devilishly. ‘Adds to the forbidden factor, don’t y’think?,’ Joel had replied, ‘So premeditated I had to get my baby somethin’ to weep onto while I knew I’d be shoving my fingers so deep in her pretty pussy.’ Those naughty words from Joel still send a shudder up your spine to this day as they ring in your mind. He hadn’t even waited until you two were home that evening to use that same hole in the panties to fuck you dizzy, until you’d screamed in the back seat of his car for him. Even then, he hadn’t relented until you came too many times to even remember the count now, leaving his seats a soaking mess.

You sigh, bringing yourself back to the present, brushing the memories away for now to get yourself ready to make some new ones with your husband. Once you’ve changed, you take a quick moment to admire the scant pieces of lingerie, almost laughing at the absurdity, but wondering how in all these years you’d never thought to buy candy underwear for Joel to devour off of you. You preen yourself for a few more quick moments before heading downstairs, wanting to set yourself up to act casual for Joel when he arrives home. Sometimes you do this on purpose, knowing he gets off on interrupting what you’re doing just so he can take you, fuck you however he pleases. And even when you really are in the middle of something, you get off on it too - being of service to your husband, helping him feel good while knowing you’ll be well taken care of, too.

On the dot at 5:00, you hear Joel’s car pulling up and smile smugly to yourself, continuing to wipe the counters down. A prompt pop of your hips to push your ass out follows when you hear the front door open and close.

“Doll? Where are ya?” Joel calls out, voice slightly muffled as he bends down to put his shoes away.

“In here!” you call out, voice high and sugary sweet, imitating the lingerie plastered to your body right now.

“How’s my pr-” Joel starts, freezing the moment he enters the kitchen. He takes in the sight - you slightly bent over, only a tiny string between your bare ass cheeks, pink high heels, and straps of candy running over your shoulders and across your back. You whip your head over your shoulder, rotating your body just enough to give Joel a peek at the lines of candy also covering your tits. He laughs, head thrown back in playful amusement before stepping towards you, predatory and slow, his laugh fading into a contemplative smirk.

“What do we got here?” Joel says quietly, hands immediately pressed tightly to your hips, his body pushing you forward into the counter. You whimper when the edge of the counter starts to dig into your stomach, Joel’s massive form locking you into your spot. “A little snack f’me to enjoy after workin’ so hard all day?” Joel can barely contain himself, blood running hot as he contemplates how grateful he feels right now.

“Mmhmm…” you whine out, already feeling any semblance of tension leaving your body at Joel’s gentle but calloused touch, this feeling of home. You giggle when Joel leans down to where the straps come around over your shoulders and takes a bite out of the candies, a little groan leaving him as his lips also catch on your skin, mixing the taste of you with the sweetness of the candy.

“Delicious, baby,” he hums in your ear, then goes on to kiss your earlobe. You melt, head falling back slightly with a docile smile plastered on your lips. “How’d a man get so lucky?” He takes another bite, kissing along your shoulder as he does so.

“Thought we’d get a jump on Valentine’s Day, darling,” you coo back, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Joel freezes, his eyes going wide and body rigid. “Fu-” he murmurs to himself, lips still practically attached to your shoulder.

“What?”

He tears himself off of you with the most disgruntled groan you may have heard from him yet. “Baby, we gotta get movin’. You… fuckin’ little candy underwear, god damn it…” he starts muttering, grabbing you tightly and spinning you around. He grasps your hand in his and starts leading you upstairs. “You gotta change, honey, we’re…” he trails off, looking guilty and a bit flustered.

“Joel, what the hell is going on?” you ask, stopping and pulling back on his hand.

Joel sighs, calming himself for a moment before finally meeting your eyeline again. His gaze softens and he smiles. “Had a whole thing planned, darlin’. A surprise. C’mon and see for yourself.”

You trail after him, suddenly feeling ridiculous in your candy underwear given the change in mood. He takes you into the bedroom, opening his closet and yanking out your suitcase. Your brows furrow as you watch him pull it to the center of the bedroom, then going back for another suitcase of his own. Your mouth drops open slightly before curling into a smile, realizing that Joel had planned a trip for the two of you. He’d mentioned to keep your schedule free around Valentine’s Day, but you’d figured it was just typical plans - dinner, a picnic, or a fancy hotel room, nothing this big.

“Joel… baby…” you breathe out, clutching a hand to your chest. You feel suddenly filled with warmth, like sunshine has started filling you from the belly outwards, making your entire being feel light and tingly. Effervescence. That’s what being with Joel is like.

He gives you a lopsided smile. “We’re leavin’ tonight. Planned it all, flight is at eight so we can wake up there ‘n get a jump on everythin’. An’ then you had to wear that,” he huffs, gesturing to your entire body with a wild movement of his hand. “An’ scramble my brain right up.” His eyes linger along your entire midsection, sincerely considering throwing these plans away just to sate his hard cock, but he shakes his head and looks you in the eyes again.

“A jump on…. what’s everything?” you ask, placing an impatient hand on your hip.

Joel reaches into the built-in shelves in his closet, pulling out a soft, cashmere lounge set and walking it over to you. “Jus’ get dressed an’ I’ll explain as we go. God damn it, this was s’posed to be so much more romantic.” He sighs, a hand repeatedly running through his hair during your entire conversation, looking flustered.

“Aw, honey, it is, promise,” you assure him with a kind laugh, starting to peel off the candy underwear, bringing it over to your dresser to deposit it for another time.

“Mm-mm,” Joel chants with a smirk, squatting down to unzip your suitcase and holding out his palm to you. “Those are comin’ with us.”

You’re over 31,000 feet in the air now, the sky dark outside the plane windows as you peer out. Joel had planned an entire long weekend to head to Aspen, where he’d booked you both skiing lessons and a cozy, romantic room at a lodge there. Your heart swelled as he explained it all on the ride to the airport, remembering how it was on your bucket list to learn to ski, but being from Texas there hadn’t been too many chances to learn locally.

You stretch your legs out, admiring the leg room in the first class tickets Joel had gotten you two, bringing the complimentary glass of champagne to your lips.

“Baby, this is too much,” you say with a slight frown, despite feeling overjoyed at everything about your current situation.

“Never. I’ve been plannin’ and savin’ for this for a while. Wanted to surprise you big time,” Joel says with a toothy, proud grin.

“Well, you did. Makes my candy underwear feel kind of… well, wimpy in comparison.”

Joel’s pointer finger flies to your lips, pressing down before your glass can reach your mouth again. “Not a chance, little doll. That’s all I need from you - skimpy little outfit to keep your husband happy.”

Your lips curl into a sly smirk and you part your lips, nipping the end of Joel’s fingers. He shoots a brow up, challenging you, but you back down. You and Joel don’t always have the most public decency, but you decide it’s not worth getting kicked off the plane just for an orgasm you could wait a few more hours for. You nearly roll your eyes at the thought though, your cunt aching from the unresolved moment you two had shared in the kitchen earlier. You can tell by his wide pupils and rosy cheeks that Joel must be feeling a lot of the same way and having the same conflictions.

“If we wait a few hours… it’ll be even better…” you lean over and whisper to him, voice betraying you as it escapes in a breathy, sultry tone.

“Plane never stopped us before…” Joel says, brows raised again.

You tut, but then smile at the memory of your one sexual adventure on a plane with Joel, when you two were on your way to your honeymoon. A discreet handjob and fingering in first class under blankets hadn’t been the most romantic start to your married life together, but it suited the both of you. “Aaand…” you trail off, placing your palm on his chest. “We almost got caught like five times, big guy. Promised ourselves we wouldn’t do that again.”

Joel grumbles quickly, and you know he understands, but you feel an anxious twinge in your stomach, like you’re breaking the rules. Your face falls a little and you turn towards him, more serious this time. “I know we have… an arrangement, and you know I love our arrangement.” Joel gets what he wants, whenever he wants - the words agreed upon by the both of you within your marriage, and you were all for it. “But just this time I think we shouldn’t break the law for it.” You raise your brows, stomach turning again as you wait for his reaction - Joel is always understanding and patient with you but as usual, you find yourself desperate to please him.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek, then he leans over to plant a peck on your cheek while he reaches down to squeeze your hand in reassurance. “No, baby, you’re right. Probably should be an exception ‘bout planes in there, huh?” He tilts his head playfully and you feel your tension dissipate immediately. “Always the rational one, ain’t you, honey.”

“Barely,” you tease, chuckling in relief. “I just don’t want to ruin the trip before it’s even started. Let’s just watch a movie or something?”

Several hours of keeping yourselves occupied and dozing off had you finally arriving in Aspen, where Joel gently nudged you awake as the plane landed. You rubbed your bleary eyes and made your way through the plane and airport half-awake, just letting Joel guide you with one of your hands gently grasping at his sleeve the entire time. You two get outside the airport with your suitcases, now bundled up in an adorable puffer jacket Joel had packed for you, along with a new pair of fuzzy earmuffs. You were starting to have a sneaking suspicion that there was a lot of new clothing in your suitcase.

Standing next to an impeccably shiny black car is a well dressed driver holding a tiny sign that makes you do a double take.

Mr. & Mrs. Joel Miller.

You tug on Joel’s sleeve with eager excitement as he starts towards the man and your mouth hangs open.

“Joel, you did not hire a fancy driver,” you scoff quietly in disbelief. Joel stops in his tracks, screeching the two of you to a halt before turning to face you.

“If you’re already questioning me at the airplane seats ‘n the driver, it’s gonna be a long few days, honey,” he says sweetly, his voice crackling and gruff with tiredness from the long day. Your open mouth turns to a smile while you tut and shake your head.

“You’re too much, Joel Miller…” you muse, following him to the car. The driver, Randy, takes your bags and stuffs them in the car, offering you an open car door to climb inside. Your stomach flips with butterflies, not having realized just how romantic of a weekend Joel had planned for you. You fight off a quick mist of tears as it pops up, trying not to get emotional at just how overwhelmingly thoughtful your husband could be sometimes.

When Joel sits next to you, you clasp onto his hand tightly, giving him a watery smile that he returns with a sympathetic one of his own, reading that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Sure, since Joel had become more and more successful in his business you’d been treated beyond your wildest dreams, but sometimes it all hit you hard in one big moment like right now, filling you with gut clenching gratitude for your life. Life with Joel oftentimes feels like a dream, something you’ve stumbled into somehow that you aren’t sure you deserve. Joel would never let those thoughts slide, always reminding you how lucky he feels to have met you in that bar, that fate intervened so spectacularly in his life.

You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride to your accommodation, feeling sick with nostalgia and gratitude as you get lost in your thoughts. When the lodge comes into view, you pick your head up, mind suddenly empty as your jaw drops while you take it in.

It’s dark out, the sky black against the warm, glowing lights peeking through window panes throughout the lodge. A mountainous backdrop is still visible despite the dark night, and you can’t help but ogle at everything, imagining how stunning it will look in the daylight. The lodge is huge, ornate despite the fact that it’s meant to look simplistic and cozy with its wood siding. Joel marvels quickly at the construction out of habit, being in the business he’s in gives him a certain preclusion to commenting his two cents on every place you stay. You’re stunned silent as the back door is opened by Randy and you step out underneath a large overhang, greeted by yet another person who offers to take your bags. It’s all fuzzy, your brain tired and overwhelmed by what you’re taking in right now, the fact that just hours ago you’d been at home, content to just stay in with your husband tonight. You blink back to reality, about to speak when Joel gets to it first.

“Please. Thank you kindly,” Joel drawls, quickly slipping them a bill from his wallet and then turning back to you, offering you his arm. You take it, practically ready to squeal loudly with excitement as you two enter the building. You admire the expansive lobby while Joel steps away to check in - high ceilings and wood beams, roaring fireplaces surrounded by cozy seating and tall, full but neatly arranged bookshelves. A winter dream if there ever was one.

You’re gazing around, tired, slow blinking eyes, too lost in it all to notice Joel come up next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans close, lips and rough beard brushing your ear with a soft kiss.

“Room’s ready,” he practically growls, and your gut clenches at his tone, your thighs pressing together. Suddenly, your body feels alight, nerves buzzing and goosebumps peppering your flesh. Sleep is a far away notion now, recalling the way you’d begun this evening, only to have it go unfinished for the both of you. You smile, soft and docile like your husband likes, your voice a dulcet song so close to his ears.

“Lead the way.”

Your ass stings red hot from another harsh slap laid against it. Joel’s hungry mouth devouring you, your hat and coat discarded on the floor right next to the door to your room. Hair tangled from the way Joel is hanging on to it for dear life as he pounds into you. Your only view is the cream colored walls, your face pressed up against the cool, smooth surface as Joel’s body pins you there. The door had no sooner shut than Joel had thrown you here, as much clothing ripped off as he could stand before his cock was inside of you. You’d cried out, whimpered at the sudden heavenly intrusion despite your pussy needing a moment to adjust. Joel had pushed through it, anyways, delivering the first spank of the night on your ass, pants and underwear hastily pulled down, halfway down your legs - enough room for Joel to slip his cock in was good enough for now, he’d thought hastily. The pain had melded into pleasure, your cunt squeezing his cock and starting to weep, easing Joel’s firm thrusts into you.

“F-fuck…” you whine against the wall, lips hanging open as his cock hits deep, your g-spot crying out already from all the stimulation he’s giving it. He’s not going easy on you, and you’d already known he wouldn’t the second he got you alone. All those hours, the silent teasing going on in both of your heads as you’d waited for this moment.

“Takin’ my cock like such a good girl… my obedient little wife,” Joel grunts out next to your ear, his teeth scraping your earlobes, sliding to your pulse point. You shudder, your hips spasming down onto him as pleasure starts to rock your body. You’re close… so fucking close to that perfect paradise only Joel knows how to get you to. “I’d’ve fucked you right in that lobby, right in that car or that god damned plane. Want everyone to see what I do to my pretty wife, what I’ve got right here… fuckin’ mess only for me,” Joel murmurs, rambling on as he grunts over and over, giving you everything he’s got. His hands tilt your hips, holding tightly while he anchors you there. And he’s right, you are a mess. Dripping slick, coating your thighs, disheveled hair and makeup now from the pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks, wet, squelching sounds filling the hotel room that you haven’t even had a chance to see yet as your face is turned towards the corner near the doorway. It must be a sight, indeed.

“Y-yeah? Wanna s-show me off…?” you breathe out, voice trembling as much as your body is starting to. Your knees are jelly, shaking and barely able to hold you up when Joel delves deep, hitting that spongy part inside of you again, making your eyes roll back. Of course he does, you know he does - nothing brings Joel more joy than letting the world know exactly what he has.

“Fuckin’ know I do… all lookin’ at this tight little cunt takin’ my fat cock, my pretty pussy, all mine.” Joel’s body presses closer, and you’re trapped even more, the both of you damp with sweat and almost incoherent as you near your highs.

“B-baby… I’m -” you whine out, “Please…”

Joel has waited as long as he could, knowing what you need. He’d wanted you desperate for it, so close, your climax just within reach, before he took you over the edge. His hand on your hip curves forward, finding your clit, and you moan loudly at the contact on the sensitive nerves. Your body moves of its own accord, bouncing back into his thrusts wildly, barely noticing that Joel’s other hand has left your hip until it connects with your neck, hand wrapping around your throat. You gasp, the noise cut off into a small choke while Joel’s hand tightens and you croak out a moan.

“Oh my g-god… please…” you whimper again in a strained voice, hoping, no, begging for permission from him. He plays with you a little longer, feeling his cock harden beyond what he’d think possible, aching even inside of you for more, as he toys with you, making you wait. His hand squeezes your neck once more, a little harder, keeping the pressure on. You’re feral, your body screaming at you but you concentrate, holding back, your mind doing gymnastics to try to deny what your body wants so badly.

“Come.” Joel speaks the one word with finality, and you let go, your body shaking violently. His hand releases and you breathe in a full, round breath as you come, your pussy creaming so hard on his cock that you start to feel dizzy from it all.

“God damn, good girl… comin’ so pretty right now,” he whispers to your ear, the noise tickling your mind in the best way. Joel holds you up as you moan and whimper, his name falling off your lips in the way it always does in moments like these - worshiping him. You flutter and squeeze his cock like heaven incarnate, and Joel finds he can’t hold himself back any longer, spilling into you on the tail end of your own climax with a loud grunt, pretty praises for you off his lips.

You both collapse against the wall, Joel leaning against you, and you both catch your breath, the need gone for the moment after hours of waiting. You sigh, smiling in satisfaction when Joel pulls off of you, gathering you quickly into his arms, kissing you all over your head.

“That’s better, ain’t it?” he says teasingly, and you chuckle, nodding in his grasp. You both readjust yourselves, Joel helping you situate the clothing he’d haphazardly pulled aside in his frenzy earlier.

“Much,” you say with another sigh, leaning into him. “What time is our lesson tomorrow?”

“Not ‘till noon. Had a feeling we’d be… up late,” Joel replies wryly, and you laugh again.

“Such a planner,” you poke at him, raising your brows before tilting your head to kiss his cheek. You slip out of his hold and start to meander further into the room, jaw dropping for what feels like the hundredth time tonight while you take in the vaulted ceilings with those same warm wooden beams and white painted walls, a stone fireplace roaring in the center of the room across from the massive bed, adorned with rose petals. More roses sit atop the small breakfast table in a vase near the windows, and when you venture over there, the view you’re taking in is beyond stunning - the mountains in full view, moonlight shining over the entirety of the landscape and your eyes start to tear up. Champagne in an ice bucket, boxes of chocolate, fresh fruit, the entire works are all laid out - such a lavish, gorgeous display for the traditional romantic in you. You turn around finally, meeting Joel’s gaze, where he stands, a smitten look on his face as he watches you take it all in.

“Joel… What can I even say?” you gasp out, throwing your hands up before letting them hang back at your sides, defeated in the best way. “Thank you…” you say meekly, turning to peer out the window once more before walking towards him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Thanked me plenty back there. An’ every day when you just be my good little wife, that’s thanks enough, doll,” Joel replies soothingly, stroking the back of your head. You lean your head against his chest, content to just listen to his heart beat for a few seconds, take in the memories of this moment. You lean back, tilting your head to give him a warm, grateful smile.

“Take me to bed?”

The next morning is far from the slow, romantic morning Joel had desired for you, realizing the both of you had forgotten to set any alarms and slept in well past 10:00 after your late night. It was barely giving the two of you time to get ready - a rushed shower and breakfast before hurrying to your skiing lesson. He’d dreamed about this hotel that he’d booked for months, the thought of waking you up with his mouth pressed deep into your cunt on that California King as he’d planned would have to be a distant fantasy as you two got on with your day.

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you the entire lesson, the way your face is lit up with pure joy in your ski gear as you fumbled to get the hang of things along with him. He’d gotten you ski pants, a jacket, gloves, and goggles - all the works that he knew was ridiculous for your first time on the mountain for that price tag. But he also knew you’d look just like this - adorable in your matching winter set, colorful goggles perched on top of your beanie and perfect lips curled into a never ending grin - and it made it all worth it.

Joel finds his own smile recounting the day as he keeps a steady hand on your back, the open back, low cut slinky dress he’d packed for you to wear to dinner tonight leaving plenty of skin for his hands to roam over as you two walk back to your room, full and contented. A candlelit dinner in the lodge’s shockingly expensive restaurant and a few drinks had you both feeling good as new again after your long day of skiing and mostly falling.

You two had laughed for hours as you’d fallen on your asses more times than anyone could count. Once you got the hang of it enough to get on the smaller slopes, you’d been unable to stop giggling the entire time, you and Joel catching up at the bottom just to ride the lift up again and again. You two flirted shamelessly the entire day like two teenagers, your heart swelling with so much love for your husband like it was your first date all over again. It was nice to have this uninterrupted time to just talk, get each other caught up on the other’s recent thoughts, feelings, and days that got lost amid the hustle of daily life.

Joel’s lips connect with the back of your neck as soon as the door to your room at the lodge is shut. “Like t’see those candy underwear again,” he mumbles to your skin, and you giggle a little too loudly, stumbling forward a bit.

Your brows wiggle as you try to crane your neck to look back at him. “That so, Mr. Miller?”

“Christ, y’only call me that when you’ve been drinkin’,” Joel teases, snaking his arms around to your front, holding you against him, the bulge in his dress pants becoming more obvious by the second as it hardens, pressing into you. “Can’t decide if it’s cute or jus’ makes me feel old.”

“No I don’t, Mr. Miller. And it is cute,” you demand, trying to hide the tiniest bit of a slur in your voice. Joel wasn’t wrong, you had been known to use that particular nickname for him after a few drinks, but you tended to be a bit of a bratty, indignant drunk.

“Thas right, ‘cause everythin’ you do is cute, m’little wife.” Joel says with a smile in his voice. His lips connect with your neck once again, trailing a few kisses down your spine. “An’ sexy…” he adds in a lower tone, one hand sliding to your hip, then your ass, squeezing hard before giving it a playful smack.

“Keep talkin’ if you want those candy panties to see the light of day again,” you reply, leaning back into him, your weight immediately welcomed by his warm, solid body.

“Oh, sweet girl, always gettin’ so bold with that wine, aren’t ya?” Joel’s hold tightens, one hand splayed across your torso and the other gripping your ass hard enough to bruise. “You forgotten who’s in charge here? Hm, baby?”

“A-actually, it was champagne…” you strain out, starting to pant as Joel’s hold goes even tighter, his domination quickly getting your thighs sticky, and you lament the fact you don’t have any underwear on right now. All at Joel’s request, of course, that you forgo any underwear at dinner tonight. You just whimper out a quiet moan, knowing you’ve gotten Joel riled up enough to keep going on his own volition.

“Think I don’t call the shots suddenly, huh? My sweet, sweet wife, we both know,” he pauses, mouth moving right next to your ear. A small nibble, his breath warm and tickling you in the best way right on sensitive skin sends a shudder through you. “That if I say put those fuckin’ candy panties on right this god damn minute, you’re gonna do it, yeah?”

Joel’s teeth suddenly sink into your neck a little, a tiny bite followed by a suck, and you nod desperately, silently cursing yourself for giving in so quickly, not giving yourself a little more time to play with him, let that tiny bratty part of you out of her cage for one of her rare appearances.

“Ain’t that right?” Joel repeats, giving your hair a little tug.

“Y-yes, Joel, yes baby…” you breathe out, and he releases your hair, his hold loosening on your body before he gives a loving pat to your ass.

“Good girl,” he coos, satisfied, sending another wave of heat to the apex of your thighs to hear his praise. A tiny moan slips out at the two words, still so effective after all these years. Joel chuckles, a tiny little huff off his lips as he spins you to face him. His hand cups your pussy through your dress, pushing the silky material between your legs before he tuts.

“Soakin’ yourself jus’ from gettin’ called a good girl…” he murmurs, lips getting dangerously close to yours. “Good. Girl.” he says with a smirk against your lips before kissing you. It’s long and deep, reminding you that behind the play and facade is an infinite amount of care for you - his wife, his forever.

He tears himself away, leaning his forehead against yours. “Now, go on and change f’me.”

You nod against him, then step back when he releases you from his hold. Breathless, on shaky legs, you rummage through your suitcase to pull out the candy set, smiling when you hold up the pastel treats, strung up on what might be the world’s flimsiest string. One minute in Joel’s rough, domineering hands and these would be toast, you think, almost laughing to yourself.

You see Joel go towards the fireplace, sinking himself down in one of the plush chairs there and crossing his ankle over his knee, settling back as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, watching you expectantly. You scurry off under his hot gaze, using the bathroom to change out of his eyesight before reemerging in his requested lingerie. You fight a giggle, wine still coursing through you while being reminded of the pure ridiculousness of this little stunt of yours.

Joel eats with his eyes first and foremost, sweeping them up your body as he finishes getting comfortable, unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves. You stand in front of him, thankful for the warmth of the fireplace right next to the two of you in your skimpy ensemble, and take him in right back. Broad, muscled, just starting to show his age with more grays every time you blink, and you love it. Love every inch of Joel.

“On the ground,” Joel says coolly, and you smirk, trying to hide it into a submissive, coy smile. Your knees go first, the plush rug under them a welcome relief, pure fluffy luxury in a weekend full of it. You start to lay prone, chest heaving with anticipation, mind spinning and reeling, wondering what torturous loving Joel has in store, how much he’ll milk it all out just for your tiny bit of bratiness earlier.

“Jus’ like that, thas’ right.” He leans forward and smiles, a little devilish and boyish in one, and you think you fall in love again as you watch him moving, looming over you now. He quickly palms the outside of his slacks, just the quickest relief before sliding his hand away, starting to circle you.

“Where to start…” Joel trills, and your body heats up even more while his eyes dig into you. When he’s standing at your feet, he starts to come down, leaning his entire body over you. “Can you be a good little doll and lay still while I have my treat?”

Breathless, you nod. Your eyes roll back a little when you blink hard, trying to catch your breath. Joel’s lifted brow and stare prompt you without him even having to say it - use your words, darlin’.

“Yes,” you say more confidently, and Joel smiles sweetly down at you.

“Good.”

He starts slow, lips moving languidly across your belly, up to where the candy rests on your tits, lapping at the sweetness there for a few licks.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles. He’s back on you the next second, sucking the candies right on top of your nipples. The friction of the hard candies combined with the tiny licks of his tongue coming through to the hardened buds has your back arching, hips searching for him. You squirm, panting now when he bites through the candy, grazing your nipple with his teeth. Joel’s hands come down, ever so gently guiding your hips back down to the plush rug underneath you.

“What’d I say about bein’ still?” Joel teases, holding you there now before going back to bite again, crunching the candies before using his sugary tongue to tease your nipple with a few flicks as it pokes through the hole he’s just made. You start to moan, already a lost cause for your husband, the thought of trying to keep your body still already torturous.

“I c-can’t help it… I’m sorry, sir,” you pant out when your hips lift again, his mouth working harder and harder on your nipples. He grunts disapprovingly and continues on until both of your nipples are free, surrounded by the rest of the candy bra. Joel seems like a man possessed, lost in it all while he devours the candies, sucking and licking each new patch of skin, a sticky, sweet mess all over your skin.

You’re aching, body tense and in hot, hot need of him now as he teases you over and over. Your thighs clamp tight, trying to avoid bucking them up into where his hard, clothed cock hovers teasingly right above you. His hand grips tightly to your hip, the string of candy taut between his fingers. He’s eaten enough of the bra that it’s starting to droop, fall off of you completely, and Joel tears it aside, scattering the rest of the candies along the floor with a tinkling sound that pulls you out of the moment for a beat as you turn your head to watch the treats roll away.

“Good girl, bein’ so good f’me… such a sweet little thing…” Joel says, lifting his head off of your chest, giving you ferocious, unhinged eyes and candy tinted lips, puffy and overused.

“J-joel… please…” you whine out, the way he’s looking at you pulsing right to your already soaking cunt. His hand slips underneath the panties while he keeps his eyes on yours, watching them roll back completely as he fingers your clit. Your hips buck, finally, unable to stop it and you feel your lip quiver as a shaky moan releases from them. Joel leans forward, his lips finding yours and kissing you zealously, a glace mix of him and the sweets has your head spinning as you lap the taste off of his lips and tongue eagerly.

“So sweet…” you mumble into his mouth, going back for more and more, until you’re feeling just as sticky and sweaty as he is, the slow burn starting to gnaw at you, your core dripping while Joel rubs the softest circles over your bundle of nerves.

“You’re perfect, y’know,” Joel breathes out, lifting his lips off of yours just the tiniest bit. “My perfect girl…” You moan when his finger suddenly sinks inside of you, too caught up in the moment to even notice when he’d delicately slipped it from your clit to your clenching hole. You suck him in greedily, desperate for anything he’ll give you and whimper.

Joel contorts himself, sliding down your body, keeping his finger moving at a languid, steady pace as his mouth now meets the candy panties, nibbling along the top of it. You’re losing control, unable to take the teasing anymore, the slowness of everything, your rough and ready husband nowhere to be found right now.

Your moans become breathier, urgent and panting out of you more quickly than you can handle, your mind going a little fuzzy and light as the feeling of Joel completely takes over you.

“There we go… jus’ float on away baby, let me take you there…” Joel coos from your hip where his lips graze against your skin as another few pieces of candy come off. You give him an affirmative noise, barely registered even by your own mind as your eyes slip closed, your body warm and tingling, so desperately close to the edge. Joel’s finger hooks upwards inside of you and you gasp loudly, your body wracked with spasms as you start to come onto his thick finger. Joel lets you freely writhe and shake now, not bothering to have you lay still while he fucks his finger against your g-spot relentlessly while you ride out the waves of pleasure. You’re whimpering, a complete mess, chest, face, cunt, all feeling sticky and completely used by the man you love.

Your head lolls along the rug a bit before you blindly reach your hand for Joel, grasping his shoulder with your eyes still lazing shut. “F-fuck me, please… please,” you whimper, lightly clawing at his dress shirt.

You hear one more crunch of the candies before Joel’s fingers hook on the sides of the delicate string and pull your panties off. You can feel him, his presence hovering above you as he sits back on his knees and you hear him unbuckling his belt, imagining in your mind the sight of his hard cock coming free, readying itself at your entrance. You can barely think about opening your leaden eyes right now, still on the heels of your climax as your chest heaves up and down. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Joel as he climbs on top of you, hands gripping your calves to lift your legs up enough for him to fit snugly between them.

You grit your teeth a little, grunting out a gratified moan when you feel Joel start to push himself in, your cunt fluttering as it accepts as much of him as he’ll give. You’re greedy tonight, you can feel it, just needing everything Joel can give you, how far away from reality he could take you tonight.

He pumps in and out, almost uncharacteristic in his tentativeness, more of his thick length going in each time, and you finally peek your eyes open slowly, hands reaching to his shoulders and pushing underneath the collar of his dress shirt, finding his warm skin. He’s moving slower than he normally would, and you find his face looking down at you with adoration, just content to watch your face twitch and contort with each unhurried drag of his cock along your silky walls.

“Lookin’ like an angel,” Joel comments, seeing your face sheening and glowing from your climax, hair splayed around your head like a halo - pure angelic beauty, a work of art that Joel could never tire of gazing upon. You smile softly, one of your hands stroking his cheek lovingly, soft moans streaming out of you while he keeps up the same pace.

“Baby…” you moan, “I s-said to fuck me, please…”

“I am, little doll…” Joel teases back with a slow push of his dick into you, and you shake your head.

“You know what I meeeeaan,” you whine desperately, fingers itching to reach down and grasp his hips, pull him into you harder. Joel’s hips twitch a little faster, starting to roll into you with more force and you sigh, head thrown back a bit more.

“What, like this?”

Uh-huh. You start to go a little breathless, legs wrapping around Joel’s waist, securing your calves tightly against him.

“You want me to use you up again, hm? That it? My poor baby, she jus’ wants this tight little hole to be so fucked out she can’t walk, doesn’t she?” Joel says, patronizingly sweet with the drawl of each word.

You nod desperately. “Please, sir, t-that’s…” you stop to moan loudly when he bucks into you harder and harder. “That’s all I want…” you finally choke out, Joel’s cock hitting you so deep you nearly feel your breath stolen right from your lungs.

“What my pretty wife wants, she gets,” Joel practically sings to you, bringing his lips down to yours for a kiss, letting his mouth sloppily work its way to your neck, starting to bite and suck while he crashes into you harder with each thrust. You can only make tiny noises, clutching him as your hands snake around his neck, holding him close to you. Joel grunts loudly between sloppy licks and sucks on your throat, his hips moving more clumsily as your walls squeeze him to the point he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.

“God damn it baby, this little pussy wants me in there so bad, she’s so greedy,” Joel punches out right next to your ear. You shudder, hips spasming and only tightening you around him further. Joel groans loudly.

“Please…” is all you can whisper, out of breath as he hits deep inside of you with each new movement.

“Fuck, c-can’t… need to fill you up, darlin’, need you fuckin’ full of me…”

“Pleaaaase…” More urgently this time, lips dry from the way you’re sucking in oxygen in quick gasps, starting to feel your orgasm clawing at your belly, tingly and hot.

“Fuckin’ full of me… gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. Give you my f-fuckin’ baby right now… m-make you swell up,” Joel pants, his face buried in your shoulder, biting down. You gasp, completely lost to the moment, fingers digging into his skin as you pull him in tighter, legs and feet crushed against his back. There are no two bodies here, only togetherness and sweat and breath - two people so lost in the moment and pure pleasure that they’re outside of themselves, becoming one frenzied movement to climb higher and higher to that sweet peak of relief.

“F-fuck… yes, yes, baby, yes…” you moan out. “Fill me up… d-do it…” you whine. With a stunted grunt Joel’s hips stutter forward, burying himself deep. The power, the emotion of it all as he starts to paint your walls tips you over the edge, fluttering tightly around him as you milk every bit of his seed into you, spasming and moaning as you reach another high.

“Oh my god…” you breathe out as you come hard, Joel’s ragged breath right in your ear softly moaning for you. The both of you fully collapse, Joel rolling to the side, clutching an arm around your chest. The crackling sound of the fireplace start to come back into your consciousness, the stillness and warmth of the room hitting you all over again while you lay back, feeling the stickiness of the two of you steadily leaking out of you. You’re speechless now, barely able to catch your breath, let alone process what Joel had hummed into your ear in the heat of the moment.

A baby. Did he really want that with you?

You two hadn’t discussed having children very often just yet, wanting to wait and enjoy being married, being just you two for a few years. But you felt your heart flutter a little, the thought of a little life inside of you, yours and Joel’s, a beautiful loved baby that you’d grow and nurture together. You can scarcely breathe at the thought, the love your heart swells with for this faraway notion, this unconceived child, already imprinting themselves onto your heart.

“Joel…” you murmur. His head turns towards you, and you watch light flickering around him from the shadows the fire is casting along his golden skin.

“I-” Joel stutters, seeing the look in your eyes. For once, he’s not sure he can quite read it. He knows he said something so much more tangible this time, beyond all the dirty talk the both of you love to get lost in. It was too much, surely, he’d scared you with it. “I’m sorry, honey, that was… jus’ caught in the moment, maybe…”

Your face falls a little, eyes dropping to peer past him with a sad look. “Were you?” you ask timidly, hands coming together on your belly and wringing nervously.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours, soft now, none of that feral fire that was there only minutes ago. He shakes his head slowly.

“N-no, no I wasn’t, doll,” he replies quietly. Your lips twitch a little, a small smile that you’re not able to hold back now.

“I, uh, I wasn’t either,” you tell him, and Joel’s eyes flash, lighting up a bit.

He turns completely on his side, and you do too, facing each other and scooting even closer. Joel drapes a hand over you, starting to rub lazy patterns onto your back. “So should we… uh, talk about this, then?” he asks, giving you a half, lopsided smile.

You give him a nod and a toothy grin, resting your forehead against his. “Get me those chocolates on the table over there and then we’re in business.” Joel moves without hesitation, winking at you as he pulls himself off the floor.

“Anythin’ f’you, darlin’."

You have no idea what hour it is, how long you’ve even been asleep when you feel Joel’s warm body pressing into yours, his chest now up against your back. The room is still nearly pitch black, making you take a moment to recall exactly where you are. You sigh, smiling softly at the memory of your trip thus far and you see a tiny sliver of light coming in around the blackout curtains in the room, clearly doing their job well by keeping you two asleep for god knows how long.

“Baby…” Joel whispers in your ear. You roll over slightly, your ass now rubbing into his crotch. Your eyes flutter slightly when you feel his cock, already half hard for you. Your insatiable husband, fucking you within an inch of your life for two nights in a row, and still coming back for more - a rare man of his age so voraciously consuming you over and over, never seeming to be satisfied.

“Hmm?” you murmur in reply. Joel wraps an arm across you, snuggling you closer, all warm heat against his broad, naked chest.

“Mornin’...” he mumbles back, lips pressed to your neck. “Sweet girl.”

“Morning, handsome,” you say, reaching an arm behind you to cup Joel’s cheek, running your fingers through his beard. He hums in pleasure, dipping his lips down to kiss your neck again. You shudder, digging yourself deeper under the plush comforter as you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Joel’s hands start to roam, sliding over the skimpy, half see through pink slip you’d discovered in your suitcase last night.

Joel is suddenly shifting in the bed, and you feel the sheets rustling next to you before he’s bumping your legs as he climbs over them, settling himself underneath the comforter right in between your thighs. His touch just grazes over your plush thighs, soft and gentle, how Joel tends to be first thing in the mornings before he descends into the rough, possessive man that you’re more used to.

“So soft, little doll…” Joel murmurs from between your legs, his breath hot on your inner thighs while he leans down to kiss the outside of your panties. You just mumble incoherent noises of affirmation, still half asleep. Joel makes quick work of your panties, a pair to match the slip, of course, and pulls them down your legs, discarding them in the mess of sheets.

Your hips buck, a louder moan escaping you when his mouth finds your warm center, already wet and wanting for him.

“She’s ready f’me, ain’t she… waitin’ on her mornin’ wakeup,” Joel teases before running his tongue up your slit another time, flicking it on your clit a few times. A gentle suck there has your whining ramping up, hips begging him for more more more already. You’re barely even lucid yet and Joel is on the precipice of pulling yet another earth shattering orgasm out of you.

“J-jesus… please…” you beg, already feeling the familiar warmth pooling tighter in your core, your knees wobbling as they curl up, giving you some leverage to lazily push your hips against Joel’s tongue as it moves along your pussy.

“C’mon baby, fall apart f’me, s’okay it’s so fast…” Joel pulls back to murmur to you, kissing along your inner thighs as he speaks.

Your hand snakes below the sheets, burying your fingers into his lush, gorgeous curls, letting them massage his scalp as he dives back into your cunt, licking in just the right way he knows makes you go crazy with need, that makes you come within minutes, sometimes even much less.

You moan loudly, hips spasming as your climax surprises you suddenly, the waves of pleasure hitting you while Joel lets you ride it out onto his face. Your eyes roll back and you whimper quietly as you come down, flopping onto the bed with a content little sigh, body going limp. Joel kisses his way up your stomach, chest, and finally your lips, where you taste that primal honey of yourself on his lips. You quickly fall back into a dozing, lazy state before Joel wakes you again with his lips on your neck.

“Gonna order us room service,” he whispers near your ear, and you nod, finally opening your eyes to see your husband’s rugged, handsome face hovering above yours. Sharp smirk, stress lines, wild bedhead and all - he’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile sleepily in return.

“There she is,” he teases, giving your forehead a smooch. “One mention of breakfast and she’s all bright eyed ‘n bushy tailed, huh?” You stick your tongue out teasingly, waggling your head at him.

“How about we eat, then we can go explore the town, do a little shoppin’ f’you, see the sights ‘n all that, hm?” Joel asks, and you nod tiredly but excitedly.

“Mmm, sounds good,” you agree, blinking slowly as you try to wake up, finally coming to enough to recall the conversation the two of you had last night. The dreams you’d shared, hopes you had for having a child, all the ways your lives would change but also stay quite the same. The way your love would stay the same, deepen even, with seeing the other become a parent. Weighing it all carefully but with hopeful hushed voices, wondering if this was the right time for that next step for the two of you. When you’d both tearfully agreed that you’d start really trying in a few months after some more planning and thought, your heart soared higher than the clouds, than anywhere you could even conceive in your mind, chest tight with anticipation for all of it.

This morning that same feeling persists as you look upon Joel - so steady, so assured - everything you’ve ever dreamed of right here in this one man.

“How about we get some practice in while we wait for the food…” you suggest with your raspy, sleep laden voice, raising your brows at him as you feel his cock brush against you again, clearly hard and wanting.

“Baby makin’ practice?” Joel teases, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all along the side of your face. “That kinda practice, hm? Not just an excuse to get me naked again?”

You laugh, turning your head to kiss him back, relishing in the familiar plumpness of his lips, the taste of your husband, all of it like a map you’ve traced your fingers over hundreds of times now, knowing every route, twist, and turn, filled with such a deep appreciation for the landscape laid out in front of you. You smile again as you two look at each other, feeling your cheeks starting to hurt from the way you’ve been grinning practically non-stop for the last two days because of your gruff but secretly so soft husband. Your hand moves upwards to cup his cheek, sincerity written all over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel.”

Joel smiles back, the same unspoken thoughts and deeply rooted loving care for you penned all over his features, entrenched in every weathered line, nook, and cranny of him.

“Happy Valentine’s, little doll.”

dividers by the amazing @/saradika-graphics <3

#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

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kpoptarotastrology009 · 7 months ago

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SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS PART-1-

Moon Opposite Mars: When your Moon opposite their Mars, get ready for some serious sparks. Emotional outbursts? Hell yeah. Passionate fights? Alright bet. But the make-up game? Pure fire. This mix is all about those raw, unfiltered feels – the highs, the lows, and everything in between.but before entering the relationship make sure that the love is here because if you go for this relationship based on passion and intensity it may go wrong and be dangerous so make sure to be wise enough to know what are you in Exactly to not end up being abused or bullied or violated and this is specially for the moon person, yeah the passion is there but make sure this passion don't turn sour ok ?

Venus Opposite Mars: When your Venus is opposite their Mars, it’s a classic case of opposites attract. There’s a magnetic pull that’s hard to resist – the kind of attraction that’s intense and all-consuming. But it also leads to some epic clashes. It’s all about balancing that love-hate dynamic, where the passion is real, but so are the conflicts. You might have explosive arguments followed by passionate reconciliations, making this connection as volatile as it is thrilling. And I. Some situation this can be one sided love and it's always the venus person that love the mars person more😭

Moon-Saturn aspects : now hear me out, this synastry aspect always have the same situation: the Saturn person will never feel the moon person emotions like NEVER , let me tell you , it's like the Saturn person feels they can't keep up with the moon person sensitivity, they will see the moon as too sensitive for no reason at some point , in the beginning of the relationship everything is okay but as soon as the moon person become comfortable and open up about their emotions and sensitivity , the Saturn person is out , they just can't do it it's so hard for them to do that specially if you guys don't have compatible moon signs ( even if you have compatible moon signs it's still tuff) but with incompatible moon signs , congratulations you're cooked buddy ain't gonna lie about it , the Saturn person will never love the moon person in 100% way , in every relationship with this aspect they will never love the other person as the moon person expect them to be because theey will always feel like their love should be limited and their emotions should be limited for the moon person , it may last long but the relationship will be soo cold from Saturn side and too sad from the moon side but the thing is that the moon person's emotion is fixed on the Saturn person and they don't wanna leave them at any cost even if the relationship may hurt them and kill them , they don't wanna leave it they would prefer to be dead and never leave the relationship , and broo that's hella toxic , I find this aspect someway or form worst than pluto-moon aspects I said what I said ..

North node conjunct mars : When your North Node conjunct someone else's Mars, it's like you’ve got this dynamic energy propelling you forward. Mars is all about action, drive, and getting things done, while the North Node represents your life’s purpose and the path you’re meant to follow.Imagine having a partner who’s always encouraging you to chase your dreams and take risks. They light a fire under you, pushing you to step out of your comfort zone and go after what you really want. It’s like having someone who believes in you more than you believe in yourself sometimes.This connection can be super motivating. If you’ve been feeling stuck or unsure about your direction, their Mars energy can give you that extra kick to start moving. It’s like having a personal cheerleader who’s also ready to kick your butt into gear if you’re slacking.But it’s not just about them pushing you , you also inspire them to channel their energy into something meaningful. It’s a two-way street where you both help each other grow and evolve. Your goals might become more aligned, and you find yourselves working together towards common aspirations.There can be a bit of a challenge too, because Mars can be aggressive and impatient. Sometimes, their way of motivating you might feel a bit too intense or pushy. It's like when a trainer pushes you harder than you’re ready for, which can be overwhelming. But if you can handle the intensity, it leads to significant growth.In relationships, this aspect adds a lot of passion and drive. It’s like you’re both on a mission, whether it’s building a life together, working on projects, or simply pushing each other to be the best versions of yourselves. There’s a sense of purpose and urgency in your connection, making things feel exciting and forward-moving.So, having your North Node conjunct someone’s Mars is like finding that perfect balance between motivation and support, pushing you to achieve greatness together.

Mars square Pluto : so here we go , Mars square Pluto in synastry is like having a relationship with a lot of fireworks, but not always the good kind. Imagine you're constantly butting heads with your partner, like every little thing turns into a massive argument. One of you might always try to dominate the other, leading to a lot of power struggles. It's like you're both trying to steer the ship, but you keep crashing into each other. There’s always this underlying tension, like walking on eggshells, because you never know when the next big blow-up is coming. You might find yourself in situations where jealousy and possessiveness are off the charts, like one of you is always checking the other's phone or getting paranoid about what they’re doing. The arguments can get really heated, with both sides saying things they don't mean, turning minor issues into major drama. On the flip side, the sexual chemistry is intense, almost too intense... This aspect is a wild ride, full of ups and downs, and it can either push you to grow or completely wear you out.

Neptune square mercury : I was asking myself if should I talk about this aspect or not but let's go for it , this aspect is like trying to chat through a haze, Period . You're always missing each other's point, like saying one thing and your partner hears something completely different. Imagine planning a date, but somehow ending up at different places because one of you misread the message. Conversations feel like you're on different wavelengths, almost like talking to someone who's half-listening or daydreaming. It's like trying to get something important across, but they keep drifting off or interpreting it in a way you didn't mean.This can also lead to some sneaky behavior or little white lies. Maybe you feel like your partner isn’t always straight with you, or details get conveniently left out. Picture saying you're out with friends and them imagining a wild party when you’re just chilling at a cafe. The lines between truth and imagination blur, making trust a bit tricky.You might also find yourself feeling disoriented in discussions, like you can’t pin down what they really mean. It's a lot of "Wait, what did you mean by that?" or "I thought you said something else." It can be frustrating because you're always trying to read between the lines and guess what they’re really thinking.

Uranus square ascendant : this feels like you're both trying to find a balance between staying true to yourselves and being open to new ideas and experiences. The Uranus person might push you to step out of your comfort zone, which can be exhilarating but also a bit unsettling. I'm not saying it's a bad aspect but let's say it's a friendship , you and your friend are always on the lookout for the next adventure, constantly pushing each other to try new things and explore new ideas. The Uranus person may bring a sense of freedom and liberation to the friendship, encouraging the Ascendant person to break free from routine and embrace change BUT this can lead to a dynamic and stimulating friendship, it can also create tension, especially if one person feels like the other is pushing them too far out of their comfort zone. AND if it's a romantic relationship this aspect in any type of relationship add excitement for sure whether it sometimes conjunct the MC ( excitement in you career) or the IC ( excitement in your home environment or in your emotions in general) but this aspect can lead to conflicts maybe a lot of conflicts , especially if one person feels like their need for independence is being stifled by the other. It's like trying to find a balance between being true to yourself and being part of a partnership. If not managed well, this aspect can lead to a relationship that feels chaotic and unstable, with both partners feeling like they're never on solid ground.

#astrology #astrology tumblr #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #astronomy #kpop astrology #free gaza #love #happiness #synastry observations #synastry #synastry chart #synastry notes #synastry overlays #synastry aspects

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r3starttt · 11 months ago

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STREAMER! GF! ELLIE

M.list

Streamer gf! Ellie whose wall is almost filled with guitars even though she only plays with one specific and does it just for you.

“Y’all wanna see the guitars? I only use that one actually” she moved her chair to show it properly, pointing her index finger at one that was lying on the floor

“Want me to play? I haven’t done it in a while”

Streamer gf! Ellie who remembered everyone that she had a girlfriend once she went super viral (and got made fun of bcs there was no way she could even approach to any girl without getting nervous and it seemed)

Streamer gf! Ellie who made you appear on stream with her after that just to prove you were in fact real and dating her.

“For today’s stream I’m gonna show y’all my wife, be nice, but not too much” she grabbed you by the wrist, bringing you closer to the camera and only showing you from your nose down.

“I told y’all to not be so nice, why’re you even calling her mommy? What’s wrong with you people”

Streamer gf! Ellie who got insisted on doing more streams with you so she started to play with you on stream (ofcs your favorite games most times) and bringing you with her anytime she played any horror game.

Streamer gf! Ellie who started to play Minecraft with you once a week on stream (having more views those days too) because people loved the dynamic you two had for that one game specifically.

Streamer gf! Ellie who ended up showing your face by accident while trying to adjust the camera and panicked once her chat told her because she thought you’ll get mad or something

“What do you mean? No I did not-“ she started to open like ten different tabs on her computers, checking something desperately and trying to push you so you wouldn’t see the screens “what? What happened?” you asked, confused.

Ellie was panicking but the chat didn’t seem to take it so seriously so you laughed at her too, still fully confused and trying to understand whatever the screens showed. That until you saw you face on a clip “Did you just show my face?”

Her eyes shifted to you, not saying a word “El, did you? Really?” once she heard you laughing it was like the sudden tension on her body disappeared almost immediately, letting out a small laugh as well “Well everyone, meet the wifey” your hand slapped her arm, not to hard but with how dramatic she is; she pulled away from you ‘oww’

Streamer gf! Ellie who tried to make a vlog and failed because she doesn’t know how to hold the camera properly (you ended recording everything for her)

Streamer gf! Ellie who social media is full of shit posting, kitties and you (likes every edit her fans make about you)

Streamer gf! Ellie who once did a bet with you during stream and ended up getting long nails because she lost almost immediately

Streamer gf! Ellie who wears lots of “I love my girlfriend” shirts on stream

Streamer gf! Ellie who spoils you a lot and likes having small dates with you, like building legos together, doing movie marathons or going shopping. Just anything where she can spend her money on you and have a nice time together.

“Babe, wake up” you were covered in blankets, hugging a pillow and trying to cover yourself from the warm but very bright rays of sun that entered trough the open spaces in between the contains. Groaning the moment Ellie started to pat your back because that meant she was either hungry or bored and needed you up too.

“El, let me sleep… cuddle with me, Mhm?” the way she chuckled made you turn around, trying your best to open your eyes properly “I have a surprise for you” her sleepy voice elicited a smile on you “yeah?”

She got under the blankets, crawling to you until she was practically on top of you “yeah, and I don’t wanna be late” her lips pressed on your forehead, hands on your face making small circles around your cheeks with her thumbs

Streamer gf! Ellie who insists on you making your own YouTube channel or something like that because people love you a lot and you would be a very talented influencer

Streamer gf! Ellie who got excited when you first opened an account somewhere to interact more with the fans and did lots of spam about it

Streamer gf! Ellie who begged you to get a cat. She wanted the orange + black combo originally but ended up getting a gray kitty she found on the street (and it’s obsessed with it, it’s her baby) She named it either a stupid name or something game related

Streamer gf! Ellie who apologizes a lot for having to go on stream during the weekends or when you’re free and feels bad for not being able to spend more time with you

Streamer gf! Ellie who always goes to cuddle with you and the cat after every stream and asks you to tell her everything about your day

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cece693 · 2 months ago

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Hi, it's the anonymous who made the first request posted about Ethan. I'm so glad you did; it was great to read and I hope you don't mind me asking for more. I'm thirsty for this character. Anyway, the request is about Ethan and the male reader in a toxic relationship where the reader is controlling and seemingly abusive, which worries his friends, but in reality this behavior is encouraged by Ethan himself, who simply loves his boyfriend's possessiveness, both of them bringing out the worst in each other. PS: watch the last two Scary Movie films when you can. They're really fun!

My Boy (Ethan Landry x M! Reader)

Thanks for the request :) I will definitely try to watch the new Scream movies when I have a chance. All I know about Ethan (with a Google search and reading his Wiki entry) is that he's a dorky and geeky guy so I used that to base this. Also, I mainly focused on how you're toxic, not including Ethan since I don't know him well. Hope you enjoy it!

Ethan’s friends had been worried for months. They’d noticed the changes—the way Ethan slowly isolated himself, the constant presence of his boyfriend, M/N, who always seemed to hover a bit too closely, and the way Ethan would flash a nervous smile whenever M/N’s arm tightened possessively around his waist. To an outsider, it looked like a classic case of an abusive relationship, the kind where one person held all the power, and the other was too scared to leave. His friends whispered behind his back, exchanged concerned glances when they saw the way Ethan always sought permission with his eyes before speaking or the way M/N’s words always seemed to silence him in public.

But what they didn’t know, what they couldn’t possibly understand, was that this was exactly what Ethan wanted. The boy leaned into it, into the rough words, the tight grip on his arm when M/N pulled him away from anyone who dared get too close. His friends thought those marks on his wrist and neck were signs of something dark, something to be feared. But to Ethan, they were marks of love.

M/N’s fierce jealousy, his need to control every little thing—who Ethan spoke to, where he went, what he wore—was intoxicating. Ethan didn’t want soft love or gentle touches. He wanted to feel owned and consumed. Wanted to feel like he couldn't live without M/N because he was the very air needed to breathe. And M/N gave him that in spades.

The possessiveness wasn’t some accident; it was nurtured between them, a game they played. Ethan loved pushing M/N to his limits, seeing the anger flash in his eyes when someone dared talk to him, only for M/N to later drag him into a heated argument, the tension sizzling between them. Their fights were never just fights; they were foreplay, a dance of anger and passion that neither of them could resist.

Behind closed doors, their dynamic took on a whole different life. Ethan didn’t cower when M/N snapped at him; he smiled, relishing every possessive word. When M/N told him to stop talking to certain people, Ethan’s heart raced, not out of fear but out of exhilaration. He loved how it felt to be controlled, to be told what to do, to be pulled back into M/N’s orbit over and over again.

The world saw a victim in Ethan, but in reality, he was the one fanning the flames, drawing out every possessive instinct in M/N. He loved the danger of it, how far they could push before it burned them both alive. And M/N? He was more than happy to oblige, loving how Ethan craved his jealousy, how he’d provoke M/N just to see that flash of rage, knowing it would end with them entangled in each other, lost in the toxicity of their need.

Ethan’s friends just didn’t get it, and it was exhausting. If only they could mind their own business, Ethan would be a lot happier. As he spotted Tara and Sam heading his way, he groaned internally, already anticipating yet another "concerned" conversation. He briefly considered making a run for it, but they were too quick, closing in and cornering him before he could escape.

“Ethan,” Tara’s voice was firm, low, and filled with that frustratingly familiar sense of urgency. “We need to talk. It's about M/N.”

Ethan immediately tensed, his jaw tightening. Of course, it was about M/N. It was always about M/N. He narrowed his eyes at Tara, shifting his weight like a boxer getting ready for a fight. “There’s nothing to talk about, Tara,” he replied sharply, his voice cold. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Sam cut in, stepping closer, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. “We’ve been watching this for months, Ethan. He’s controlling you. You don’t hang out with us anymore, you barely text—hell, you hardly even smile these days. It’s like he’s cut you off from everyone who actually cares about you.”

Ethan’s heart raced with growing anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m not cut off from anyone!” His voice came out sharper than he intended, his body rigid with tension. “I’m just busy. You guys wouldn’t understand.”

“Busy?” Tara’s disbelief was evident, her eyes wide as she stepped closer, not letting him wiggle out of the conversation. “Ethan, we’ve seen the way he treats you! You flinch when he’s around. You’re constantly looking over your shoulder, like you’re waiting for him to snap. That’s not normal. That’s not healthy.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shot back, his voice edged with frustration. “You don’t know him. He’s not what you think.”

Sam stepped forward, her tone soft but firm, like she was speaking to a child. “Ethan, listen to me. He’s not good for you. There are other guys—better guys—who’d treat you right. You don’t have to put up with this.”

“I don’t need your help!” Ethan snapped, cutting her off. His voice rose with every word, anger flashing in his eyes. He stepped back, trying to create distance, his frustration boiling over. “You want me to leave him, but I love him. Why can't anyone seem to get that?!”

Tara’s eyes softened as if she could somehow break through his anger. “Ethan, we care about you. We’re only trying to help. I’ve even got someone in mind—he’s sweet, kind, nothing like M/N. You don’t have to settle just because M/N is your first boyfriend. There are people out there who would actually treat you well.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, a flash of offense crossing his face. His lips curled into a bitter, humorless smile as he shook his head in disbelief. “Wow,” he muttered, looking down briefly before fixing Tara with a sharp glare. “I can’t believe you just managed to insult me and overstep every boundary I’ve got in one sentence.”

“That’s not what I—”

“No, I get it,” Ethan cut her off, his voice icy. “You think I’m some pathetic loser who can’t handle his own relationship, that I’m just clinging to M/N because I’m desperate. But you’re wrong. You don’t understand us at all. He’s not controlling me—I want this. I want him. You think he’s bad for me? You don’t know him like I do.”

“Ethan, you’re not seeing clearly,” Sam tried to interject, her voice pleading now. “He’s manipulating you, making you think this is love—.”

“Stop!” Ethan screamed, his fists trembling as he glared at them both. “You have no right to interfere in my life like this. M/N isn’t the problem, you are. You can’t stand that I’m not the same person I was before, that I’m happy in a way you’ll never understand. I don’t need saving—I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Tara’s face fell, her shoulders sagging as the hope of reaching him began to fade. “Ethan…”

“No,” Ethan growled. “I don’t want to hear it. Not again. Stay out of my relationship. If you can’t respect that, maybe we’re not meant to be friends.”

Without another word, Ethan turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving Tara and Sam standing in stunned silence, their concern now tinged with a deep, helpless sadness. To them, Ethan’s anger and defensiveness were just more proof of how deeply M/N had his claws in him, manipulating him into believing that this toxic love was all he deserved. But to Ethan, it wasn’t manipulation at all. It was passion, fierce and raw, the kind of love that consumed you whole—and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He swore he'll fucking kill anyone who tried to step in between you and him.

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p1utofairy · 1 year ago

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PAC: your upcoming relationship 🎀🫧🎆

pile 1 🧸 —

ok so i immediately heard let the light in by lana del rey ft. father john misty! this is a very passionate relationship pile 1 wow. your person is very patient, attentive and willing to put you first no matter what. the dynamic will be similar to allie and noah's but minus the toxicity…there's a push and pull but just enough to keep each other engaged and entertained. i'm hearing a lot of witty playful banter, you grinning until your cheeks hurt and not being able to keep eye contact because they give you butterflies. i'm feeling some gemini influence in this pile hmmm communication will be really important between the 2 of you. i think you both are very similar when it comes to your interests and values but have a different approach to how you handle your feelings and express your emotions. you may be a bit more hesitant or resistant to sharing how you feel in hopes of keeping the peace but i feel like your person will encourage you to speak your mind instead of bottling it in. this goes for any scenerio as well, they want you to be able to step into your power and not dim your light for anyone or anything. your person could have prominent water/cancer/or 4h placements because they give nurturing vibes. i just heard "I JUST WANNA SEE YOU SHINE, CAUSE I KNOW YOU ARE A STARGIRL." you mean everything to them. even if you two were to have a disagreement, they'd probably be a bit moody at first but at the end of the day they'd want to talk it out and make up with you. (and i heard make it up to you) they'll never want you to go to bed angry at them or vice versa, this person is very mature and doesn't like to cut corners when it comes to their relationships. this person has an "all or nothing" type of mentality, when they commit themselves to you that's it. all they see you is pile 1, awww it's so sweet. you're gonna have lots of fun with this person.

pile 2 ⭐️ —

love you like a brother, treat you like a friend, respect you like a lover. OOOO pile 2 your person is very suave, they know exactly what to say and when to say it. i feel like they light up every room that they walk in & could definitely charm the pants off of anyone. it might be hard to take them serious at first or you may question if they're serious about you because they seem to be very friendly or more experienced. but i'm hearing that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, because although this person may give player vibes they’re actually a sweetheart at the core. i can see this person having a really bright smile, they'll love to make you laugh and put you in a good mood. you will bring a good balance to them, they need stability and you're exactly that. they're very confident and extroverted but deep down they feel like no one really sees them except for you. i'm hearing infrunami by steve lacy so maybe some of you already know this person. it honestly does give a good friends to lovers vibe. i can see you two texting a lot, going on little dates and having random/deep conversations about any and everything. maybe lots of discussions about movies? i'm hearing some of you really love cinema. i think you'll definitely see this person in a different light as you get to know them, compared to your first impression of them. it’s like when andie was putting ben through all those hoops until they went to visit his family in staten island…and once she saw him in his element/who he truly was at the core she realized her feelings for him. yeahhh this is super cute pile 2, i dig it.

pile 3 🍬 —

heyyy pile 3, right off the bat i keep hearing the word CUTE. like maybe this is what people will think when they see you and your person together? you two are absolutely made for each other, i think your inner child will really come out when you're around this person. i can feel the excitement, the giddiness and anticipation you two will exude when you're in each other's presence. i heard "like a kid in a candy store" lol that's adorable. power trip by j. cole ft. miguel is playing…yeah it's very much THAT. i feel like you both will pinch yourselves thinking is this real??? your person is gonna make you feel like you're on cloud 9 hehe i see them getting you flowers, writing you cute little messages on sticky notes and gifting you thoughtful things that you may have mentioned in passing but didn't expect them to remember. i feel like you (and maybe even your person) have been waiting/yearning for a connection like this for very a long time, i get an almost lonely energy. like you've been single for a long time and now you feel whole/complete. the intimacy between you two >>> not even just sexually but intellectually and emotionally! you're gonna feel so safe and comfortable with them. your person is very sentimental and they will never take a moment shared with you for granted. i see polaroid/photobooth pics of you 2 being all close and cutesy :) this person might be a little lowkey/reserved in nature but you definitely bring them out of their shell. the scene where jenna says “arrivederci” and is so giddy when matty responds back with “au revoir” is coming to mind. AH y'all are gonna be so goneeeeee pile 3 i love it for you.

#pick a card #pac reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #love reading #pick a pile #pac tarot #love pac #pac

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starless-nightz · 3 months ago

Note

Could you maybe do Wednesday, Enid and Bianca (seperate) with a S/O who is uncomfortable with physical affection, at least at first??

Wednesday, Enid and Bianca with a S/O whos uncomfortable with physical affection

note -> MY FAVORITE GIRLS AHHHH, I absolutely love the Wednesday girls like they are all so beautiful and silly, I need to write something about Yoko and Divina.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff, all three are very respectful.

Wednesday Addams

Wednesday immediately picks up on how uncomfortable you are with touch; she's observant, and she finds it rather fascinating how you will stiffen or pull away whenever someone gets a little too close. Most people would prod or push, but she does none of those things—she keeps her distance.

She's not the type to demand constant physical affection herself, so the dynamic doesn't faze her. As a matter of fact, she enjoys being with a partner who knows not all affection needs to be loud and physical for it to be honest.

Instead of hugs or kisses, she'll give you silences shared, a book she thinks you'd like, or even a especially macabre location for a date. The way she looks at you-sharp, attentive, as if you're the only thing worth focusing on—is her own unique way of expressing her feelings.

Words are where she'll get a bit softer. She's not above giving you a small, dry compliment when the two of you are alone. They might sound weird, but from her, it's practically a declaration of love.

If you ever feel bad about not being able to offer more physical affection Wednesday will shut that thought down fast. "It's not a problem," she'll say without inflection, "It's just who you are. And if anyone has a problem with it, I'll deal with them accordingly." There's that slightly threatening glint in her eye and you know she means it.

Enid Sinclair

Enid adores being extremely affectionate—naturally so—hugs, cuddles, and holding hands. But once that clicked in that it makes you uncomfortable, she readjusts. The initial instinct might be to feel concern, she doing something wrong? Once she gets it, she is all for your boundaries.

She's really patient and soft about it all, she will talk with you about making sure that she's not crossing any boundaries, and always be open to work out what's best for both of you. Enid might feel a little sad that she can't show her love physically the way that she is used to, but she'd rather you be comfortable than anything else.

She masters all the non-physical touches: baking your favorite treats, sending you cute texts throughout the day, and leaving little notes or doodles in your locker. She will go out of her way to make sure you feel loved in a way that doesn't involve touch.

You'll often catch her bouncing in place with excitement when you have been away for some time. Rather than running up for a hug, she will flash a brilliant smile and wave until you're ready to approach—at your own pace.

On days when you feel all right with physical contact, Enid is quite happy to accommodate, though she'll always ask. "Can I give you a high-five?" she says with a grin, as though the question were a small celebration between the two of you.

She's your biggest cheerleader, always making sure you know you are perfect just the way you are. "You don't have to change anything for me," she'll say with a ring of sincerity in her voice. "I love you just as you are."

Bianca Barclay

Bianca has an instinct for observation, and she will easily notice that something is bothering you about displays of physical affection. She may start trying to test these boundaries with light touches or hands on the shoulder but instantly retreats the moment she perceives flinching or pulling away.

She's confideng enough in herself and in your relationship that she doesn't take it personally. If you ever try to explain or apologize, she'll cut you off with a gentle but firm, "You don't have to explain yourself. I get it.".

Bianca seeks other ways to connect with you, and the conversation often drifts into intellectual discourses and deep discussions. She loves to debate and hear your viewpoint; thus, those nocturnal talks become a form of closeness that she values just as much as physical closeness.

She'll often act very loving with acts of service. Someone's got to help you study for a test? She's there, with a set of notes perfectly organized. Got a tough situation you're trying to work through? Bianca will take care of it, no questions asked.

This is her way of trying to ensure you are safe, secure, and will never feel smothered; watching from a distance whenever she feels you are overwhelmed but never stepping in unless you need her.

Of course, when you do initiate even the tiniest of physical gestures—brushing your hand against hers, say—Bianca never overreacts. She will flash a slight smile on her lips, seeming to acknowledge it but not making it larger than it need be, for your discomfort. The smile does stay with her all day, though.

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #enid #enid x reader #enid sinclair x reader #enid sinclair #bianca #bianca x reader #bianca barclay x reader #bianca barclay #wednesday netflix #wednesday show

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drugs-and-daddyissues · 4 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 Johnny's fascinated with your youth and beauty, it's such a stark contrast to his dark mind. He wants to absolutely ruin it until all you can do is crave him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 age gap, corruption kink (kinda), P in V sex, spanking, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, dom! Johnny, sub! reader, fingering, daddy kink

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Johnny Depp x f! reader

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 This is in no way a reflection of the real Johnny Depp. This is all purely a work of fiction. Everything done between characters is CONSENSUAL. DO NOT DO THIS WITHOUT PRIOR CONSENT.

You were just laying in bed with Johnny, talking, joking, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. The way you laid above the blankets, wearing a pink satin night dress, it caused a hunger in him to grow, his eyes darkening.

To him, you were just a little flower, defenseless against him, and he was the big bad wolf that was going to ravish and destroy you.

He ran his hand up your thigh, pushing the dress up a bit, his hand resting at the hem of your panties.

"Johnny.." You whispered, your breath hitching.

"Just admiring, pet.. You know, I'd love to get a taste of you" He whispered, his lips finding your neck, kissing the sensitive skin before biting it, his tongue soothing the marks.

His touch was enough to get you needy, maybe you subconsciously knew that you needed your older boyfriend to absolutely ruin you, make you unable to be with any boys after him. "Daddy.." You whined softly, the words slipping out before you had a moment to think about it.

"You're playing with fire, little one." He warned, his voice husky as he slipped his fingers past your panties. His fingertips collected your arousal before gently pushing in, as he didn't want to cause you actual pain. He still wanted this to be pleasurable for you.

You let out something between a gasp and a moan, feeling him expertly move his fingers inside you. "I need you, need you so bad." You begged softly, moans slipping from your lips.

He pulled his fingers out of you, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth as a smirk played on his lips. "Ah ah ah, patience, my love. I want those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock first, yeah? You think you can do that for Daddy?" He cooed, already unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants and boxers off, revealing his erection.

You nodded, giving a little "mhm" as you moved between his legs. Such an obedient little girl for him, licking up the base of his cock.

"Come on, I know you can do better than that, sweetheart. Put that mouth to use." He commanded, and who were you to disobey him? Your dominant boyfriend.. Who always took such good care of you. Really, it was the least you could do.

You took him in your mouth, gagging slightly on his size. "Good girl, that's it." He praised, tangling his fingers in your hair, helping to guide your movements. When you looked up at him, you could see him looking back down at you, soft groans escaping his lips.

You gradually sped up your pace, until he pulled you off his cock. "Get on all fours, I'm gonna show you how a real man fucks." He commanded.

Once you two shifted positions, he put his hand on your back, pushing down so you arched your back. "Tell me who this pussy belongs to, baby girl." He whispered, his voice rough with desire as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

"You, Daddy. Only you." You confirmed, and he pushed inside you, making your cunt stretch around his length.

"That's right, sweetheart. You're so good. All mine. My precious little flower. I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you won't even remember your name." He promised, starting his thrusts out slow as he let you adjust to his size.

His deep, slow strokes already had you crying out, feeling every delicious inch of him. "Faster, Daddy, I need more." You begged.

"So damn eager for me, baby doll. You just want me to make you all mine, huh?" He teased, increasing the pace of his thrusts. "You're so tight, princess. So perfect." He praised, your walls accommodating his size better.

You were already such a babbling mess, as he formed a steady pace. His speed was fast, his hard cock drilling into your pussy. You felt like you were being fucked within inches of your life.

"I'm so close.. Please don't stop, daddy, please! Need to cum!" You managed to beg through moans, his pace becoming too much for you, the knot in your stomach quickly tightening, threatening to snap.

You felt him plant a couple spanks on your ass cheeks, making you scream out. "Go on, cum for me. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel." He said, giving you the permission you so desperately needed to cum.

That was all it took for the knot to come undone, crying out his name as you came all over his cock, forming a milky white ring around the base of it.

"That's it, so perfect. You look so pretty when you're a mess under me, baby." He cooed, still not stopping his thrusts, chasing his orgasm.

You were so damn overstimulated that he practically had to hold your hips up from how much your legs were shaking. It felt like your nerves were on fire as he kept using you to his will.

Your climax had him teetering on the edge, and quickly, his release rushed forward, his hot cum painting your walls. He gave a few more sloppy thrusts, riding out his orgasm, before he stilled inside you.

"Shhhh, are you okay, love?" He asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair. He knew he could be rough sometimes, and although he knew you loved it, he wanted to make sure to pick you back up after.

You gave a small sound of approval, breathing heavy from the intensity of your session with him.

"Good, you were so perfect. I love you." He whispered, pulling out of you, before helping you get dressed and cleaned up again.

┆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐈┆

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading and supporting my work! ❤

🌹 taglist: @chronicallybubbly @mgajdaaa @amy-fontaine @trekkitkat @mininiamh @littlerobbinphantomhive19 @bennwazzhere @needz1nk @kittenlittle24

#johnny depp love #johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp smut #older bf! johnny depp

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 months ago

Text

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

It all started on a Sunday.

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed.

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised.

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar.

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite.

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned”

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed.

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you.

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty.

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.”

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you.

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty.

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself.

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures.

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away.

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work.

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank.

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now”

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach.

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment.

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you.

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him.

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion.

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins.

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you.

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain.

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free.

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm.

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.”

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed.

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Just…me”

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?”

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy.

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance, just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act.

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you.

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death.

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck”

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded.

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway.

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath.

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

#hot priest!joel miller #hot priest!joel #priest!joel miller #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel miller x you #joel tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #one shot #the last of us hbo #joel miller au

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revacholianpizzaagenda · 2 months ago

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97 Poets of Revachol pics!

HERE THEY ARE, courtesy of the event's official photographer, Zuzana Šubrtová. The Elysium-based LARP took place in two runs in Terezín, Czech Republic, in the latter half of September. These are from the second run!

I can't possibly describe what it was like to inhabit the rundown tenement of La Cage with more than a hundred other players, bringing to life a whole slice of society: immigrants, barflies, petanque players, sewer people, Union gang members, Wild Pines mercs, disco people, sewer people, looters, street artists, an inevitable mass of fascists, anarchists, communards (or so I'm told), communards (proper), communards (it's complicated), councilmembers, hustlers, taxidermy enthusiasts, the also-inevitable mass of pale-fried strugglers, journalists, Moralintern creeps, RCM chucklefucks, and so on and so forth. The old military hospital burst to life with small human moments and grand revelations happening in every corner at all time, as the gears of history moved toward our inevitable trial run of Le Retour.

We really had it all. Politics, drugs, creeping mold, more drugs, unseen voices steering us toward our best and worst natures, a metaphysical rave, entroponetic anomalies, precognition (scripted), precognition (just kind of happened?? Several times over?), suzerainist coffin deliveries, sweatshop politics, old reckonings, radiant sacrifices (accidental-ish), three-way divorces (one-upping one HDB), strikes and strike-breakers, political dance-offs and political orgies, and did I mention the drugs, under the greatness of history and the pale.

Thanks to the organizers for the colossal effort they pulled off like it was nbd, and to all my fellow dwellers of La Cage.

A few favourites:

First off, this was basically the entirety of my game:

...with a central heartrending tension between that abandon, that 'something beautiful is going to happen', and my character's earthly loves, the family she loved so much. It was really really fascinating and emotionally moving to get to play out that central conundrum in full (and go die on the barricades for an independent Revachol following the push of History) (and also of Franconegro pulling my strings like a marionette in a chilling scene) (but mostly History)

Case in point: me in the back, the Unseen voice/spirit/skill "Doomsayer" to the left, dear husband Tai in the middle. Sorry Tai!

Moralintern mission

Sweatshop workers strike

Both sides of the barricades, right as the game ended (this is not a spoiler, it said up front on the website that that's where the story would end): independentists (feat. His Fuckery Franconegro with the black wings in the background, but also the Unseen of if it sucks hit da bricks, the street martyr and idk who else) and globalists (Dolores Dei, Doomsayer et al)

speaking of those two - here's them in full rave regalia. I love that two of the collective skills of this place are flat-out "Dolores Dei" and "Franconegro", it's so fitting. Can't have current society without them, so here they are, as a molecular part of it.

RCM peeps predictably being serious, professional individuals

Designer drug guy talking to Corrosion who's kind of the local version of Electrochemistry. I'm sure this was a completely hinged conversation that reached sensible conclusions

Wild Pines mercs +1

Disco downtime. The set design for The Bearded Vulture club and The Second Club was out of this world. I hope my own pics can convey some of it.

sweatshop power dynamics (there were accidents, Union leverage, strikes, corruption... you'd think there would be barely time for anything else to go on AND YET)

possibly my fave pic of the whole thing (go Doomsayer!!!). we had specific graffitable areas on the wall and made VERY good use of them. Well, everyone else. My character wasn't much of a graffiti artist, her greatest contribution was turning "Revachol for revacholians" into "Revachol for mold"...

LARP^2

fascist campaigning at the Democracy Picnic

Petanque club...

...actually playing petanque? I never saw them ingame, I was starting to wonder if it wasn't a front for something else

Pictured - no scheming, plotting or quadruple-crossing here as you can clearly see by "Kras Knezhinisky"'s super normal demeanour and unassuming name, which I can totally believe was on his legit birth certificate)

I mention Kras because here's the theatrical taxidermy show with him in the middle narrating the adventures of his antifascist ferret Kommissar Kunixet. Nice pic, I take the shot. Five seconds later, superstar Frittte clerk Jamie Delaney joins in, and what can I do, NOT have Jamie in a shot? Absolutely not, so I take the same exact shot with Jamie in it as well.

And by sheer twist of technology (and of course the pale, and of course vile censorship in defiance of the Romangorod convention)... Kras Knezhinsky of all people gets kommissar-no-kommissar'd. "Kras, the pale is erasing you from our memories, from images," I warn him, showing him the two pictures. One hour later, he gets taken behind the waste disposal facility and shot.

Hm.

(LARP's haunted. These things KEPT HAPPENING. In the first run, that version of my character went "YOU MURDERER" at the specific merc who'd turn out to be connected with her background, a couple of hours before getting that reveal in-game. What's Elysium without some good old-fashioned precognition after all!)

Poor Flowerseller (red dress here) was kind of my Empathy - many valiant attemps were made, however. Uphill struggle.

HARDCORE anodic club leader Konrad Nilsen doing something not so hardcore here, idk what was going on exactly but then again I never even noticed we had a morgue and I had a plot right next room, so what do I know. I know that the end is near. That much for sure. And that the resolution of history's contradictions goes through the pale. But corpses? Nah.

||||||| 😎

#disco elysium #97poets #my own photos next time maybe!

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wandasaura · 10 months ago

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TOO IN LOVE TO THINK STRAIGHT

summary — when you mention to your dominants that you want to further explore the dynamics of your relationship, they’re all for it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, exploration of non-sexual bdsm, purposefully triggered subspace, implied mommy kink (never said), implied daddy kink (also never said), brief mention of sensory overstimulation, literal fluff to the fullest extent possible, men/minors dni

authors note — i committed to the lyric titles too hard, but wonderland perfectly describes this fic! daddy nat lovers, i see you

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

“Are you excited?” The soft vibrations have become a fond sensation as you peer out of the car window and admire all of the buildings that you pass. You’re not in the best area, one of the worst actually, but you find something so calming about the construction crowded roads and graffiti covered storefronts. You’ve been stuck in bumper to bumper traffic for the last half hour, a plethora of detours and u-turns standing in your way of where you really wanted to be, but every time Natasha eases her foot back onto the gas and shoots between lines of cars that don’t have the balls to make the move themself, you hum in contentment. You’re okay with being stuck if you’re stuck with them.

They’d been promising you this day for months, and although it had been canceled two weeks ago when you came down with an unexpected cold that left you miserable and bed-ridden for three days, it was finally here. There was no time left for another extenuating circumstance to push the date back farther. You hadn’t stopped bouncing in the backseat since Wanda had affectionately buckled your seatbelt, your fingerprints are smeared against the backseat window from how you point out the exit signs that mean your destination is growing closer. Natasha had long since stopped asking you to refrain from touching the glass she kept spotless, looking back at you through the rear-view mirror with fondness whenever a lull in speed occurred. Now was one of those moments. The line of cars all waiting to merge back onto the Garden State Parkway kept the car still, the break was applied heavily and wasn’t going to be let off soon. Unlike the other times she had looked back at you, she craned her entire body now, and you grinned at the easy way about her expression.

Your fingers left behind the glass of the backseat driver side window to press firmly against the tip of her nose, wanting to see it scrunch up in annoyance like it always did when you poked it. Natasha was less compliant with your need for physical touch then Wanda was, but she allowed you small victories every once in a while. Today was one of those days where everything seemed to fly. You had eagerly pulled her around the house all morning, sat in her lap at breakfast, and all but forced her to help you dress when you decided picking the perfect outfit was too hard to do on your own. The women had immaculate taste in fashion, you supposed it was something that needed to come with their high-profile occupations, but you’d never complain about them making your old clothes look fresh and new without adding anything tasteless or unnecessary. You hadn’t wanted to be apart from her since your eyes had peeled open at seven, the excitement in your belly too strong to ignore despite Wanda telling you that you wouldn’t be leaving the house until eleven. You were so beyond grateful that Natasha had been serious about taking you out when her and Wanda’s schedules allowed, that it didn’t matter to you if your earlier than usual wake up time meant having a full four hours to merely sit around and wait.

You nodded your head at her simply asked question, bearing a smile that compiled a list of words you’d be happy enough to use in a sentence if she so desired. She didn’t though, you knew she was well aware of how excited you were and was merely pulling your leg because she herself was bored. There was no way she could be oblivious to your hyperactive movements when your feet kicked the back of her seat every handful of minutes, but she’d not asked you to stop only rolled her eyes in fond exasperation and murmured to Wanda about the copious amounts of fingerprints and scuff marks she’d have to tend to later. Natasha and traffic were not things that should exist in the same sentence. For as patient as the woman was, she quickly lost her composure when ‘assholes in black hondas don’t know what the fucking speed limit is’. The first time she’d bellowed in annoyance you’d shook your head and giggled into your hand, your eyes connecting with Wanda’s who had glanced back at you in a silent threat to not egg Natasha on further. You’d tried to keep your amused reactions to yourself after that, but it was hard not to laugh at Natasha’s annoyance for anyone going under eighty miles an hour; especially considering the speed limit was only sixty-five.

The drive wasn’t meant to be any longer than an hour and a half, Wanda had meticulously gone over each and every available route before she’d loaded you and Natasha up in the car, but construction hadn’t been something to consider while she was planning your departure. It seemed every major highway and backroad was under construction lately, even the roads that led down to the shore in Westview. You didn’t mind it, occasionally pointing out the names of the yellow vehicles as you passed them, but you worried how little time you’d have to explore as the second hour of driving came and passed. When your legs grew restless, you settled for sitting cross-legged in the backseat, your elbows pressing firmly against your knees as you craned your neck to see between the head-rests on the couples seats. The sky was open and blue, no trace of clouds but apparent wind. The trees on either side of the road rustled with the flow of the breeze, and if you stayed just quiet enough, you could hear it howling outside of the windows. The sight of wind was a ploy to get unsuspecting people out of their houses. The weather was hot and humid, temperatures climbing into the low hundreds, but your destination was indoors, so thoughts about how you’d melt beneath the sun didn’t have valid reasons to come.

Wanda’s eyes locked on yours when Natasha eased onto the gas again, pulling off the exit ramp like a bat out of hell and dodging oncoming traffic that honk and scolded her boldness. You giggled when a particular car just to your left raised their hand at her, a single finger pointed toward the sky. She was unaffected, returning the gesture with passion. Your smile fell off your lips when your gaze shuffled over to meet Wanda’s, and the Sokovian looked at you with displeasure. “Feet on the floor.” Wanda reprimanded when she knew she had your attention, and you sighed but complied with the request. “We'll be there soon. Why don’t you tell me about what you're most excited to see?”

That had inspired a full tangent of thoughts that were only half complete to spill from your lips like rushing water off a cliff, but neither Wanda or Natasha had tried to interrupt you and get the full version of your story. They were happy enough to listen to you ramble nonsensically, your fingers twisting together in your lap out of pure elation that you had no other way to express. Wanda was simply content with knowing that should Natasha crash, you were sitting properly in the backseat. It wasn’t another half hour before Natasha was grabbing a ticket from the machine at the entryway of the parking garage and pulling into a reserved spot on the very first level by the exit. You’d known they would go all out for today, they always did, but it never failed to make you feel incredibly special to be getting such attentive treatment from two of the most willing and powerful women in the world. You flew out of the car before Natasha even had the engine off, feet not even hitting the pavement beneath you entirely before you raced around the back of the Stingray so you could pull Wanda’s door open for her. You bounced excitedly on your toes throughout the entire exchange, grinning up at her with an expression of complete innocence. The Sokovian smiled down at your adoringly, capturing your face in her gentle hands and pulling you just close enough for your forehead to fall against her lips.

“Such an excited little duckling.” Wanda mused with gentle laughter, her breath warm and thin as it fanned across your temple and shot sparks of pleasurable admiration through your belly and across your spine. You would’ve stayed permanently fixed on her tender expression had you not heard Natasha’s door swing closed. Your eyes trailed over the top of the car until they met the sight of her, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and jean shorts, her red locks had been pulled up and away from her face in a fleetingly worn ponytail that swung behind her head with every subtle move her body made. You could drool over the sight of her, but there were other priorities at the forefront of your mind.

“Can we go now? Please?” You bounced eagerly beneath their transfixed stare, your hands grabbing eagerly at Wanda’s who still had a soft grip on your cheeks. You knew the rules of walking in busy parking lots well, and although they’d made you feel like an incapable child at one point, you adored and craved them now. The lawyers reminded you so often that just because you are a capable adult, doesn’t mean you have to act like one when they’re there to take care of you. You let them take control easily now, no willingness to fight left to linger in your instincts, even in something as simple as finding your way through busy parking lots.

A smirk splayed across Natasha’s lips as she approached you and Wanda, her hand shoving her phone and wallet into one of the back pockets of her denim shorts. You should be ashamed for finding the simple action so attractive, but you didn't. You'd stopped letting yourself feel embarrassment for merely noticing their beauty long ago, and greedily your eyes trailed over the muscles in her shoulder and bicep that flexed as she reached toward her back. Natasha chuckled knowingly, sending a wink in your direction before she purposefully flexed her biceps. You wanted to roll your eyes and tell her to knock it off, but Wanda had beaten you to the punch and sent her wife an exasperated hit to the gut. “I don’t know, malyshka. Can we?” Natasha answered your earlier question, letting her feet carry her impossibly close to Wanda’s side. You wanted to groan aloud when the Russian’s hand slid comfortably into the back pocket of the Sokovian’s denim shorts, but you were too excited to dwell on the fact that Wanda’s ass had definitely just been squeezed roughly and possessively.

“Yes.” You made the executive decision with a curt nod of impatience, already setting your pace toward the exit, dragging Wanda behind you with rushed steps. It was the exact opposite of what she intended to happen when she’d first implemented the rule of wanting you to hold either her or Natasha’s hands in busy spaces. You were now the one leading her around by the hand, and quite blindly if she wanted to put it nicely. You’d hardly noticed when you led her body straight into a traffic cone, her feet just barely able to avoid tripping over the bright orange safety measure. Natasha had to stifle her laughter as she followed, her hand still in Wanda’s pocket and effectively pulling the Sokovian in two different directions as she remained a couple of steps behind.

Wanda placed a firm hand overtop of your wrist, catching your attention as you looked back at her with a whine of impatience toward the back of your throat, ready to be unleashed if she didn’t make whatever she needed quick enough for your standards. You were almost there, almost to the long line of parents and children that wrapped themselves around the building in an unruly line. You could see the electric blue sign on the top of the structure perfectly, the artwork on the sides of the building visible but intercepted by bobbing heads and tall bodies. Her abrupt stopping when you were so close to where you desperately wanted to be was the cruelest thing that had ever happened to you. “Why don’t you leave the dragging around to me, lyubov’. Unless you want me to end up in the infirmary before you even get to see the sharks.”

You groaned at her teasing, a fierce blush crawling up your neck that couldn’t be blamed by the unforgiving heat. You didn’t let her words sink beneath your skin however, deciding that pulling at her hand was effective enough. “Will you hurry up then?” You groaned, smirking victoriously when Natasha laughed at your antics and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Yes, milaya. We can go.” Wanda rolled her eyes but agreed with your demand, already beginning to set your pace at a significantly slower speed before the rest of her sentence even lingered in the air for your ears to pick up on. You practically skipped beside her, a broad smile on your face as you once again droned on and on about everything you couldn’t wait to see and have. Natasha had promised you a stuffed animal from the gift shop, knowing that you’d never had many in childhood. You’d decided that today would be one of the first times you explored your dynamic outside of the house, and the Slavic women were sparing no experience in giving you the purest taste at reclaiming your lost childhood. It felt too good to be true, to just surrender your conscious mind and let them take control, but you found yourself submitting to them easily. They wanted to do this for you, they enjoyed playing up their roles in this aspect. It was still hard to grasp that something that could be so kinky in bed could also be so pure outside of it, but they were allowing you to learn at your own speed, and selfishly they loved how inexperienced you were. There was no former training to unwind from your beliefs, there was no burned skin around your heart that had been failed by somebody else. You were fully theirs to shape, and they intended to show you the purest sides of this dynamic.

You frowned when Wanda began to lead you toward the front of the building, getting farther and farther away from the long line of people waiting their turn to enter. Toddlers pointed at you and tugged on their parents arms, not so quietly wondering why they couldn’t follow you and go around the line. A blush settled onto your cheeks when a little girl, no older than six, tugged at who you assumed was her fathers hands and boldly declared that you were ‘cutting’. Natasha and Wanda were in their own little world it seemed, laughing and talking with one another in quick Russian that you couldn’t comprehend, not batting a blind eye to the whispered accusations that were being pointed at you.

“The lines back there.” You whispered albeit a little self-consciously, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves anymore than the redheads adoring your waist already had. The sight of you together dripped with wealth. The diamond studded Chopard watch on Wanda’s wrist dazzled in the sunlight, the yellow gold Tiffany hoops in Natasha’s first piercing swayed when the breeze caught them. You looked properly out of place amongst the parents and young children all waiting in line.

Wanda stopped walking at your timid statement, looking down at you with a look that could only be described as dominating. It wasn’t hard, wasn’t demanding, but rather apologetic and soft. You felt entirely small beneath her sage green stare. “What did you want to try today?” Wanda reminded you softly, her body language not portraying the suggestiveness behind her quiet words. To any of the parents standing feet away, it looked like she had simply paused to ask you a well-intended question, which you supposed was true, but it wasn’t as innocent as it appeared.

You deflated slightly, leaning into the touch Natasha had placed on the small of your back minutes ago. You were becoming fuzzy, a feeling you’d associated with rough sex, but there hadn’t been any of that today. The closest thing to having their bodies had come when Natasha pulled you into a bruising kiss before you left the house. “Letting you have control.”

Wanda hummed, content with your answer, knowing that once again she had full control. Her fingers that always seemed to be perfectly polished ghosted over your cheek, and you could assume she’d attempted to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear like she always did, but today your hair had been tied back into two french braids that Natasha had suggested. “So let Mommy worry about where the line is. That’s not something for little girls like you to be concerned about.”

You nodded softly, unable to help the rush of something sweet that further propelled the dizziness in your mind forward at the Sokovian’s dismissal. Although you didn’t resume your skipping like you had been doing when Wanda guided you across the street, your footsteps came lightly and with a bounce as you became lost in the simple action of counting the many cracks that adorned the sidewalk as you stepped over them. At some point, your hand had grabbed Natasha’s, and you swung your arms back and forth absentmindedly. The day was hot, unforgivingly so, and the natural flush across your cheeks was becoming annoying. You were ready to start vocalizing your discomfort when Wanda guided you inside of the aquarium, saving her the headache of listening to you whine about something she couldn’t control.

You gawked at the sight of light blue painted walls and elaborate glass tanks that held any color coral you could imagine. The front desk was a giant fish tank, and little orange and white clownfish swam around the enclosure blissfully. You were practically vibrating beside Natasha as you looked around at the little details that had been incorporated into the entrance of the building. The ceilings were high, and painted across them were sharks and whales and every kind of fish you could even imagine. There was no embarrassment when you pulled at Natasha’s hand and let your own little finger shoot up to the ceiling, excitedly pointing out a boesemani rainbow fish that swam beside a hammerhead. Wanda had gone to check you in for your reservation, or at least you assumed that was what she was doing as she stood closely to the front desk and nodded at the teenager behind the counter. His eyes briefly flashed over to you when he noticed your head craned toward the ceiling and overheard your loud exclamation, but Wanda must’ve said something that made his attention snap back to her just as quickly as it had left.

“Inside voices, dorogaya.” Natasha smiled sweetly at your excitement, having no real issue with the volume that you had spoken at before, but she knew it would bother you if you caught onto the lingering stares of judgemental adults who couldn’t possibly understand that not everything was meant solely for children. You had just as much of a right to enjoy these little things as the toddlers who ran free, but she couldn’t change everyone's opinion even with her deadly glare.

Your cheeks flushed pink, and not because of the blistering sun, but you nodded to her request and tried not to let it sting. You’d been told all your life that you were too loud, reprimanded by your mother until you’d just fallen silent. You knew she hadn’t meant it in any particular way, but some things still struck a chord in your heart. The crushing feeling hadn’t lasted long, too comfortable in Natasha’s presence to dwell in self-consciousness. Your eyes went back to trailing all of the open space that you could see, and when they landed on a particular tank beside the single hallway that led into the larger room that veered off in several separate directions, you attempted to jut off. A whine rippled through your chest when your hand was squeezed and Natasha didn’t follow you forward, cemented in the place where you’d been instructed to wait for Wanda.

“Seahorses!” You tugged at her hand, earning you a disproving expression complete with a single raised eyebrow. You sulked back toward her, giving the tank one last sad glance before you focused down on your shoes, a frown on your lips.

“What are we meant to be doing, hm?” Natasha didn’t allow you to keep your gaze transfixed on your shoes, one of her slender and ring adorned fingers guiding your chin upward until your eyes flickered to hers. Her heart clenched at the sad frown that clung to your features that had been so happy not even seconds ago, but she didn’t let your pout sway her decision. After all, Wanda had given you a clear direction, and she expected that you follow it. “Can you tell me what we’re meant to be doing?”

You sighed, glancing back over at Wanda who looked to be wrapping up whatever conversation she’d been having with the teenager behind the counter. “Waiting for Wands.” The words slipped past your lips softly, your eyes trailing back over to Natasha’s. “But there’s seahorses.”

“And the seahorses will still be there when Wands is done. We’re gonna have our listening ears on today, aren’t we?” Natasha was really laying it on thick, even she knew that, but it was hard to help herself when you looked so soft and pliant standing in front of her dressed in an outfit that she picked out. You nodded your head, shuffling into her embrace, sadness still tainting your features.

Natasha kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your torso as she lets you have your feelings against her chest. She knows they’ve been guiding you into a stage of subspace all day, it had been perfectly intentional, but how you handle it is still a wildcard. Much to your misconception, subspace wasn’t always brought on by getting railed, as you liked to refer to it as. Any form of submission could send you down that rabbit hole, including following instructions; which you’d been doing all day. Subspace wasn’t about the weight of the scene or how badly your body ached afterward, it was just about trust and the right amount of guidance. They’d been doing something right, and Natasha could recognize the glassy sheen over your eyes as you peaked up at her and then over toward Wanda who was finally, finally, walking back toward you.

The Sokovian had three brightly colored bands in her hands, her lips curled into a bright grin that crinkled her eyes. She stopped just in front of Natasha, effectively blocking you from view as she felt the eyes of the teenager behind the counter try to burn into your form. “What’s with the frown?”

“Seahorses.” You pouted up at her, much to Natasha’s amusement. The Russian’s hand ran over your back soothingly, though she couldn’t fight her bright smile when you again tried to wiggle out of her arms and rush over to the cylinder tank now that Wanda was back in sight.

“She wasn’t very pleased that you asked us to wait for you.” Natasha filled in the gaps, your explanation rather vague and rushed; if you could even call the one word response you gave much of an explanation at all. “Why don’t you tell Wands what kind of fish you found on the ceiling?” Natasha nudged you, prompting your attention onto something other than seahorses. You beamed at the excuse to ramble again, your finger pointing up to the ceiling like it did the first time, and even if Wanda couldn’t follow your finger to the specific fish she was meant to be looking at, she smiled encouragingly.

“It’s a boesemani rainbow fish! They get brighter when they get older!” You laughed, your pouty face no longer a visual that filled the entrance of the aquarium. Wanda had not the slightest care in the world for the fish you were pointing to, but she praised your knowledge either way. She’d pretend to care about anything if it meant seeing that bright smile linger on your lips even after the words stopped coming. “Can we see the seahorses now?”

Already anticipating how the rest of the afternoon was going to play out, Wanda laughed at your eagerness but nodded her head. You were just out of Natasha’s grip when she captured you in hers. This time, you did whine, sad eyes stuck on the tank in the corner of the room. Neither redhead could blame you for your distress when you’d been intercepted on your way to the seahorses twice now, and so neither scolded you for the sharp sound that reached their ears. “What are the rules if you’re not holding mine or Natty’s hand?” Wanda quizzed softly, her voice taking on a tone that had made you weak in the knees too many times. It was a voice Natasha called her ‘Mommy Voice’, which usually led to the Russian getting slapped upside the head when Wanda overheard.

“Stay where you can see me.” You bounced on your toes, still pulling at Wanda’s hand and glancing between her and the seahorses with a desperate plea in your wide and glassy eyes. “Please!”

She nodded at you with encouragement, smiling fondly when you raced over to the tank, carefully not to place your hands on the glass though it was already smudged with little fingerprints and what could only be assumed to be saliva. You marveled at the seahorses that bobbed in the water, illuminated by an electric blue strip of lights that made the gradient of colors on their bodies pop. You would’ve stayed staring at the seahorses all afternoon had Natasha not been the one to softly guide you away after five minutes of soft oohing and awwing. There were so many more tanks and creatures to see, she didn’t want you wasting any more of your time on just one tiny tank. You’d been upset about her gentle hands guiding you away until you’d turned a corner and spotted a tank of hippos in the distance. Your eager hand had pulled her through the crowd with Wanda following hot on your heels.

You showed the same level of excitement at every tank and exhibit, which neither lawyer thought was possible. There was no lull in your squeals and shrieks, and both of their wrists hurt by the time they sat you down for a late lunch. You’d abided by their every rule, including the ones that seemed stupid to you, what was so wrong about falling into the penguin exhibit, it was an easy enough climb back over the thin glass barrier? They’d expected lunch to go smoothly, you’d been so well behaved that they’d even considered buying you ice cream first, but unfortunately for them, the small cafe in the heart of the aquarium was directly beside the shark exhibit.

“Milaya, we will see the sharks after we eat.” Wanda cooed sweetly for the umpteenth time, trying not to let her face crack as she contemplated just giving into your pleas. Their firm voices and whispered praise had guided you into what Natasha referred to as the ‘sweet spot’. You weren’t so blissfully fuzzy that you couldn’t comprehend their words, but you were beyond the point of making a rational decision, and listening seemed to fall into that category as you struggled against Wanda, eyes fixed on the large sign that comically had a massive bite mark in the side. It was the little things that lingered throughout the building that made it more immersive, like the stickers on the floor in the shape of penguin footprints that lead to their enclosure, and the bite mark in the sign that led to the sharks. Your eyes searched to find every little detail that anyone else would overlook.

“I want to see them now.” Your crestfallen face was enough to weaken the reserve both redheads had been putting forth since your little meltdown had started. They hated to think that had you not been so high on endorphins and adrenaline, you never would’ve expressed how much you enjoyed all the little things that the aquarium had to offer, but they were still working to earn this level of trust from you when peptides weren’t at an all time high. With your head firmly planted in subspace, there wasn’t a single insecure feeling prickling beneath your skin. You were utterly free, control sitting in their hands and they had to force themselves to remember that.

“Not now, detka.” Natasha stepped in, guiding you toward the only empty table in the cafe. Your lips were turned downward in a persistent frown, but by some miracle, you’d actually sat down on the chair and let Wanda name out the options on the menu. It was no surprise to either of them that you pointed toward the chicken tender basket, but it was good enough for them to fulfill your request immediately.

Wanda left to order the food while Natasha kept you occupied at the table, ensuring that you didn’t start to fall out of the state they’d been working you into all day. She offered praise when you answered her little questions about the fun facts you’d been reading on all of the displays, and she tutted disapprovingly when your fingers ripped apart a napkin that some other family had left on the table. When Wanda came back with a tray of three chicken tender baskets because it felt wrong to eat any of the seafood that was offered, you were firmly engaged in a conversation about the stingrays that had been yet to be spotted. You’d explored more than half of the aquarium, finding out that the pink band around your wrist was a pass to all of the activities that lingered around. You’d fed the penguins, given the seals high-fives, and watched a 4D movie that made absolutely no sense, but had dispensed bubbles and sprays of water that were fun enough. All that was left to do was walk the roped path overtop of the shark exhibit, but that didn’t sound like something you wanted to put your faith in, even if hundreds of people did it every day. You, nor Wanda, would be walking across a shark infested tank, though Natasha had plans to do it herself. She’d always been the more daring of the couple.

When your lunch was finished, or when your lunch was picked over enough for Wanda and Natasha to set you free again, you wasted no time in grabbing both of their hands and zipping through the families that stood in your way. You’d been too distracted with the bamboo sharks to hear Wanda mutter to Natasha about how your crowd direction was just as bad as her driving, but you’d turned around in time to watch Natasha roll her eyes and whack Wanda’s bicep.

In your fuzzy headspace, their rules engraved in your mind, one of them being to show respect to others, you frowned and settled both hands onto your hips. “You broke rule number six!” You stated rather angrily, stalking up to Wanda with long strides that didn’t match the innocence in your eyes. You kissed her arm softly, the place where Natasha had hit her engraved in your mind.

“Yeah Natty, you broke rule six.” Wanda’s amusement wasn’t so easily hidden in her tone as her lips curled into a smile and she pulled you into her chest, settling a kiss onto the top of your head as you both sent glares toward Natasha. Yours was littered with a protectiveness that almost outshone the glassy gleam that had settled, Wanda’s however, was riddled with enjoyment and humor. “What should she do, detka?” Wanda giggled, leaning down to whisper in your ear though it was loud enough for Natasha to hear, and the redhead was just barely keeping the smile off her face as she watched you and Wanda conspire against her.

“She’s gotta say sorry!” They’d noticed that in your fuzzy state, you’d shied away from the bigger words that slipped into your vocabulary normally. You weren’t yet at a point where communicating your needs was impossible, but you weren’t actively fighting to clear your head and search for words like apologize and blasphemy either. Natasha would never forgive Yelena for throwing that word around so often you’d started to pick up on it.

“Well?” Wanda jutted out her hip, placed a perfectly manicured hand just above where her bone rested. You mimicked her stance, though you were significantly less threatening than Wanda with your french braids messy from the humidity that drafted in from windows, and your baby blue colored corset shirt that was adorned with intricate lace patterns and ribbons that tied the back together.

“Ona razob'yetsya v mashine.” Natasha hummed, and although you knew enough Russian to know that wasn’t an apology she had uttered to Wanda, no, it was a very true statement that you’d crash in the car on the way home, the Sokovian had accepted it and laughed.

Despite your excitement to see the sharks, you didn’t hang around the exhibit for long. There were too many people and you seemed to become overstimulated more easily when you were flush full of endorphins, so Wanda had been the one to lead you away toward tanks of lobsters and jellyfish. She started walking down the hallway, leaving you with Natasha, wanting to find a sign that could lead the three of you toward the stingrays because she knew you wouldn’t enjoy the aquarium for much longer. It had been hours, and in your sensitive headspace, the bright lights and sounds were quickly becoming too much to handle. You’d been so brave, trying this out with them and trusting them fully, but Wanda wasn’t about to compromise your happiness for a few more hours of mindless walking from room to room when you’d already seen everything that interested you. All she cared about was making sure you had a good time, even if she thought aquariums were savagely overpriced now.

Wanda frowned when Natasha found her way over to her without you. Her eyes flickered around the long hallway, searching for your blue top that stood out brightly against the sea of other colors that adults and children wore. It was such a specific shade that even if seventeen other people all crowded around to watch jellyfish bob had blue on, you stuck out like a sore thumb. “Where’s Y/N?” Wanda questioned and Natasha frowned.

“I thought she was with you.” The Russian quickly realized that no matter how many times she spun around in circles, you weren’t anywhere in sight. She distinctly remembered you telling her that you wanted to go with Wanda, so she hadn’t questioned when you walked off and toward the direction that the Sokovian had gone in. Natasha was properly panicked when thirty seconds went by and she still couldn’t spot you, but Wanda at least had the thought to check the next hallway before she let herself spiral too.

The stingray exhibit turned out to be in the next room over, crowded by kids and parents who talked about the sea creatures with excitement in their quiet tones. The occasional toddler bellowed in disgust when they realized how slick the back of a stingray was, but for the most part, the room only vibrated because of the sheer number of voices that occupied it, not because of volume. You were hunched over the edge, elbows deep into the shallow water when Wanda and Natasha spotted you. Each let out a sigh of relief, but nothing was going to stop them from marching over to you and pulling you away from the water.

“What were the rules, milaya?” Wanda asked you, her voice not as soft as it had been all day, but not hard either. They’d never been out of the house while you were lingering in subspace, and though they never wanted to lose you, it hadn’t been something that never crossed their mind. You wandered away even when your head was clear, your lack of impulse control only heightened that need to trail off.

“Stingrays!” You beamed at Wanda, not taking into account the thin line that settled over her eyebrows as she peered down at you. Your excitement was cute, a telling indication that you really hadn’t meant to wander away and give them the scare of their life, but it wouldn’t get you out of the scolding Wanda had ready on the tip of her tongue.

“Not stingrays, utenok. What were the rules?” Natasha laid heavy emphasis on the last word of her question, and though your eyes were more glassy then she’d seen them all day, she could see the wheels turning as you tried to process her words.

“Oh.” You mumbled when you finally came to the conclusion, your shoulders deflating as your head dipped down and set your gaze on your shoes. “Sorry.”

Wanda, who had been prepared to dig into you, sighed softly and dropped the topic. She may be a stickler for the rules but she knew it would only cause further damage if she laid into you about listening. Your disappearing hadn’t been intentional, and even she could see the tears threatening to spill over as you brewed in your own feelings of disappointment.

“I want you holding my hand, dorogaya.” She instructed firmly, “No more walking by yourself. We don’t wanna lose such a sweet little duckling, huh?” Wanda lifted your chin, smiling reassuringly down at you. Her rings caught the light, glimmering like a million little stars that cried to be released from the gold adorning her fingers. It was over after that, you’d fallen too deep into the sea of bliss to want anything other than her. You shuffled close, all thoughts of stingrays forgotten as you breathed in her scent. Sensing your loss of interest, Wanda shared a silent conversation with Natasha who nodded.

“Why don’t we go check out the gift shop?” Natasha claimed one of your hands, engangling you from Wanda before you could sink any deeper. They needed you coherent enough to get back into the car, and then you were free to settle deeply beneath the blanket of comfort they’d slowly been laying over top of you all day. Natasha held back on delivering any further praise, knowing it wouldn’t help you coming closer to the light.

She guided you through hallways and crowded rooms, occasionally squeezing your hand when you winced at crying babies and strong fishy odors. She herself was over the aquarium, but she’d been holding out for you. She was glad she didn’t have to fake her enthusiasm anymore, though Wanda was certainly getting a kick out of all the exasperated eyerolls the Russian hid from you.

The gift shop was practically empty when you shuffled inside, clinging to Natasha who didn’t mind the contact. She led you through rows of toys and puzzles, some not having any connection to the aquarium while others quite boldly sported the name in a thick black font. You found interest in none of it, which she couldn’t blame you for. Everything looked tacky and far too cheap to be as expensive as the prices on the shelves said, but still she guided you around encouraging you to pick something out. She’d promised you a stuffed animal, but when you finally reached the back wall where all the cuddly toys were lined up in rows, neither of you liked any. They were all filled with stuffing that was too stiff to cuddle, and you retracted your hand quickly when you reached out to touch one. Whatever had been used as fuzz was scratchy and coarse, and you hated it with a passion. Eventually, when Wanda came up to you holding a soft gray crewneck with an embroidered whale shark and the name of the aquarium on the front, you agreed to let it be purchased for you, and although it was still in the highest temperatures that New Jersey had seen all summer, you wore it out of the aquarium with a smile.

When you reached the car, there was no keeping you afloat any longer. Natasha had uttered the first bit of praise in minutes, and you surrendered fully to the warmth in your mind. Wanda smiled, usually the one who you attached to when you fell over the edge, but Natasha had been your chosen pick today.

“Just get in the back with her, Talia.” Wanda rolled her eyes after three minutes of Natasha trying to detach you from her arm, each attempt ending with whines and stomped feet as you tightened your grip.

Natasha sighed, able to count the number of times she’d let Wanda drive her car on one hand, but she wasn’t getting away from you right now, and she didn’t really want to anyway. “If you so much as leave one fingerprint on my radio you won’t be getting laid for a week, Maximoff.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, snatching the keys from Natasha’s outstretched hand and opening the driver's side door more aggressively than needed. If anyone was going to be leaving fingerprints it was Natasha, who could never decide which type of music she wanted to listen to. Seeing that you had gotten your way, you smiled up at Natasha with a grin that was only right to describe as cheeky. The Russian rolled her eyes and settled you into the backseat, shushing your protests when she strapped the seatbelt over your chest and made sure your feet were planted firmly on the floor.

She pulled you into her side when her own seatbelt was clicked into place, gently releasing your hair from the tight braids that had been twisted together all day. At the first pass of her fingers across your sensitive scalp, you all but melted into her chest and let your eyes flutter closed. It wouldn’t take six minutes before you were asleep against her chest, clutching desperately to the white t-shirt covering her torso. With the absence of your questions and excited statements, the car settled with silence, filled with only the sound of the engine revving when Wanda stepped on the gas.

“Did you have a good day, moya lyubov’?” Natasha asked, extending an arm to run over fingers over Wanda’s shoulder. She couldn’t see the Sokovian’s face, but she knew there was a satisfied smile settling over her lips.

“I did.” She breathed out softly, flicking the right blinker on when she merged onto the parkway, thankful that all the construction seemed to have been paused for the day and the road, though filled with typical traffic, was clear of any major dead stops. “Did you ever think we’d be here?” Although Wanda hadn’t been specific, Natasha knew she was referring to you. You were practically the sun in their own two planet universe, everything they did revolved around you now, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Things got boring when it was merely her and Wanda in a universe void of endless light and warmth.

“I hoped.” Natasha kissed your temple softly, glad that she hadn’t stirred you awake.

When Wanda pulled into the driveway, you were still sound asleep and the sky was dark with nightfall. It was early to call it a night, but the couple did so without complaint. You settled into Natasha’s chest with only the aquarium crewneck on your body, and Wanda had shuffled into the space in bed where your body typically rested, laying her head down on Natasha’s shoulder and placed a heavy hand on the small of your back.

“Goodnight my little utenok.” She whispered into the thick stretch of silence before sleep overcame her too, and although the night carried on outside of your small bubble of peace, none of you had any idea.

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