#IT COULDA BEEN SO GOOD AND YET............ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thirtysomethingloser92 · 2 months ago

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If you are still takin one shot prompts can you write something with Remy x female reader where they are always arguing but everyone knows they’re in love with each other except the two of them? With smut?

(Idk if u do kinks and feel free to ignore this bit if u don’t but if u do can you write in heavy praise kink?)

Love ur writing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Warning: Contains Smut. I dunno how to feel about this one honestly, it was written in a haze of sleep deprivation and absence of coffee; but I still hope you enjoy!

The X-Mansion was unusually quiet that afternoon, a rare occurrence that most of the team appreciated. With no missions on the horizon and the younger students out on a field trip, the mansion basked in an almost eerie calm. That is, until Remy Lebeau strolled into the kitchen, whistling a tune with his typical swagger, and found you rummaging through the fridge.

“Mon dieu, chérie, y’ coulda left me somethin’ to eat,” Remy drawled, leaning casually against the counter.

You didn’t even glance back at him, too focused on your hunt for leftovers. “If you weren’t always late, you’d have something left,” you shot back, finally pulling out a container of pasta. “Besides, you’re lucky I didn’t eat this too.”

He smirked, staring at you with those infuriatingly charming red-on-black eyes. “Lucky, huh? I’d call it somethin’ else, but I ain’t here to argue semantics.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh really? Because that’s all you seem to be good at.”

“Non, non, I’m good at plenty o’ things, chérie. You just never give me a chance t’ show you.” He winked, and you felt a familiar heat crawl up your neck—annoyance, definitely annoyance.

“You know what, Remy? You could charm the devil himself, but it won’t work on me,” you retorted, grabbing a fork and digging into the pasta defiantly.

“Is that a challenge, chérie?” Remy leaned in closer, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always made your heart skip a beat, not that you’d ever admit it.

“You wish,” you muttered around a mouthful of food.

Before he could reply, Storm walked into the kitchen, her eyes flicking between the two of you with an amused smile. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer. You and Remy had been at each other’s throats for years. From the moment you first joined the team, there was something about him that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was his cocky attitude, the way he sauntered into every room like he owned the place, or the way he always had some snarky comment ready no matter what you said. It didn’t help that he was infuriatingly charming, either—always ready with a flirtatious quip, especially when you were at your most exasperated.

But as the years went by, something shifted. What started as irritation evolved into something more complex, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was as if every argument, every sarcastic exchange, was building something between you—a tension that neither of you could deny, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

You’d find yourself lying awake at night, replaying your latest spat with him in your head, only to realize that you weren’t just angry—you were excited. You started to notice the way his eyes sparkled when he got under your skin, or how his voice softened ever so slightly when the banter got too heated. It was maddening, really, how much he affected you, and how you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him, even when you wanted nothing more than to forget he existed.

The worst part was, you knew he felt it too. You could see it in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, or in the way he’d linger just a little too long in a room after everyone else had left, as if waiting for you to say something—anything—that might break the tension. And yet, you both kept dancing around it, neither one willing to be the first to admit that the fiery arguments weren’t just arguments anymore.

That morning in the kitchen was just the latest in a long string of these encounters. Five years of sniping at each other, of pretending that the growing heat between you was just frustration, not something deeper, something almost… intoxicating.

“Just tryin’ t’ get somethin’ t’ eat, Stormy,” Remy said with that familiar grin, leaning casually against the counter. You could feel the weight of his gaze even as you busied yourself with your breakfast, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up whenever he was near.

Storm raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying his innocent act. “And are you succeeding?”

“Not yet, but y’know, she likes t’ make it difficult,” he replied, his grin widening as he glanced at you.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes even as your pulse quickened. “If by ‘difficult’ you mean not letting you steal my food, then sure.”

Storm chuckled, shaking her head. “You two are impossible.”

“We’re not the problem here,” you insisted, but even as you said it, you noticed the knowing look Storm gave Remy. He just shrugged, clearly enjoying this little game far too much.

“Whatever you say,” Storm replied, her tone light but her eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t quite place. “Just... try not to burn the kitchen down, alright?” With that, she left the room, leaving you alone with Remy again.

“She’s got a point, y’know,” Remy said after a moment, his voice taking on that maddeningly smooth tone that always seemed to get under your skin. “We do seem t’ have a bit of a... fiery relationship.”

You glared at him, refusing to let him see just how much his words affected you. “Keep dreaming, Lebeau.”

“I don’t need t’ dream, chérie. I got all I need right here,” he replied, his voice softening in a way that made your stomach do flips.

And there it was again—those words that left you momentarily speechless, thrown off balance by the sudden shift in his tone. For a moment, you didn’t have a snappy comeback, which was rare. Instead, you just stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with you.

Before you could decide, Jubilee burst into the kitchen, her usual energy crackling around her like static electricity. “Hey, have you guys seen—oh, never mind, found them!” she said, her eyes darting between you and Remy. “You two arguing again?”

“Not argu—“ you started, but Remy cut you off.

“Just a lil’ friendly banter,” he said with a wink in your direction.

Jubilee sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You two need to just kiss already and get it over with.”

You almost choked on your pasta, your eyes widening in shock. “What?!” you spluttered, while Remy just laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“See, even Jubilee agrees,” he teased, leaning in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you had to fight to keep your voice steady.

You pushed him away, your heart pounding in your chest. “In your dreams, Lebeau.”

“Maybe so, but y’know, dreams do come true sometimes,” he murmured, that infuriating grin still firmly in place. You wished you could wipe it off his face—preferably with your fist, but you knew that would probably just make him laugh harder.

Jubilee just rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by your continued denial. “Whatever, keep denying it. But everyone knows you’re totally into each other.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat. Because the truth was, part of you already knew she was right. You’d been fighting it for years, but deep down, you couldn’t deny it any longer: you were falling for Remy LeBeau, and that scared you more than any mission or enemy ever could.

But if you were falling, you sure as hell weren’t going to let him know that. Not yet, anyway.

“Everyone’s wrong,” you snapped, but the words felt hollow even to you.

Remy just chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “We’ll see ‘bout that, chérie.”

As Jubilee left the kitchen, you found yourself alone with him again, and for once, the silence was more uncomfortable than the arguing. You could feel his gaze on you, and it made your skin tingle in a way that was more than just irritation. “No we won’t,” You said simply, turning on your heel and walking out.

The next morning, you were in the Danger Room, running through a solo training session. You needed to clear your head, to burn off the frustration that had been gnawing at you ever since that conversation with Remy. But as you moved through the simulation, dodging holographic enemies and firing off energy blasts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched.

“Y’know, chérie, y’coulda asked me t’ join,” a familiar voice drawled from the observation deck.

You gritted your teeth, not even pausing as you executed a perfect roundhouse kick to one of the holograms. “I don’t need your help, Remy,” you replied, your voice clipped.

“Didn’t say y’ did. Just thought y’ might enjoy some company,” he said, his tone light and teasing.

“Well, I don’t,” you snapped, launching another energy blast that obliterated a row of targets. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped watching me.”

“Can’t help it, chérie. Y’ too fascinatin’ t’ ignore.”

“Oh, give me a break,” you muttered under your breath, but your focus slipped for just a second, and one of the holograms managed to get a hit in, knocking you off balance.

Before you could recover, Remy was beside you, his staff spinning in a blur as he took out the remaining enemies. “Y’ gotta keep your guard up, ma chère. Otherwise, y’ might get hurt.”

You pushed yourself to your feet, glaring at him. “I had it under control.”

“I’m sure y’ did,” he said, that damn smirk still on his face. “But it doesn’t hurt t’ have a lil’ backup.”

“I don’t need backup,” you snapped, brushing past him. “And I don’t need you butting in every time you think I’m struggling.”

“Who said anythin’ ‘bout strugglin’?” Remy asked, following you as you stormed out of the Danger Room. “Just tryin’ t’ help.”

“Well, you’re not helping,” you shot back, rounding on him. “You’re just... you’re just being annoying!”

Remy raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your outburst. “Annoyin’, huh? That’s a new one.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Yes, annoying. You’re always there, always making these stupid comments, always... just always in my space!”

His grin widened. “Y’ don’t like me in your space, chérie?”

“No!” you snapped, but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t entirely true. The truth was, Remy being close to you made you feel things you didn’t want to feel, things that made your heart race and your thoughts scatter. And that scared you.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Remy said, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to that low, smooth tone that always made your pulse quicken. “’Cause I like bein’ in your space.”

You took a step back, trying to create some distance between you. “Well, I don’t. So back off, Lebeau.”

He didn’t move, just watched you with that infuriatingly calm expression. “Y’ sure ‘bout that, chérie? ‘Cause from where I’m standin’, it looks like y’ don’t mind it so much.”

Your jaw clenched, and you could feel your temper rising again. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug. “But y’ like a challenge, don’t y’?”

You glared at him, frustration bubbling over. “This isn’t a game, Remy. You can’t just... just flirt your way out of everything!”

“Who said I was flirtin’?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

You blinked, thrown off by the change in his demeanor. “What?”

“Maybe I’m just tryin’ t’ get t’ know y’ better, chérie. Maybe I’m tired o’ all the fightin’.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. “You’re the one who always starts it!”

“Non, I just finish it,” he corrected, his voice softening. “But maybe it’s time we stop all this fightin’ and start talkin’.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Talking? About what?”

“About us,” he said simply.

The word hung in the air between you, heavy with implications. Us. You and Remy. It was something you’d never let yourself think about seriously, but now that it was out there, you couldn’t ignore it.

“Remy, I...” You trailed off, unsure of what to say, how to even begin to address the tangled mess of emotions this man stirred up in you.

But before you could figure it out, Remy took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Y’ don’t have t’ say anythin’, chérie,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just... think ‘bout it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so tender, so unlike the usual banter between you, that it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I’ll be waitin’,” he added, his breath warm against your skin, before he finally stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed.

As he turned and walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to do.

Because as much as you wanted to dismiss Remy’s words, as much as you wanted to pretend that nothing had changed, you couldn’t. Not anymore. Not after he’d so easily slipped past the walls you’d built around your heart.

And that scared you more than anything else.

The next few days were a blur of awkward encounters and tense silences. You avoided Remy as much as possible, but it seemed like the universe had other plans. No matter where you went, he was there—at breakfast, during training, in the hallways. And every time you saw him, you felt that same confusing mix of anger and something else, something that made your heart race and your palms sweat.

It was driving you insane.

Finally, after a particularly grueling Danger Room session, you couldn’t take it anymore. You stormed into the rec room, where Remy was lounging on the couch, casually shuffling a deck of cards. He looked up as you entered, his expression immediately shifting to one of concern.

“Y’ look like y’ got somethin’ on your mind, chérie,” he said, setting the cards aside.

“You think?” you snapped, pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’ve been driving me crazy, Remy!”

He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“How so?” you repeated incredulously, stopping to glare at him. “You’re always there, always saying these things, always... just always around! It’s like I can’t get away from you!”

Remy’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe that’s ‘cause I don’t want y’ t’ get away from me.”

You froze, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “What?”

“Y’ heard me,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m tired o’ playin’ games. Tired o’ pretendin’ like there ain’t somethin’ real between us.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Remy, this is... I don’t even know what this is. We fight all the time. How could that be anything real?”

“’Cause fightin’ is better than nothin’,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’d rather argue with y’ every day than not have y’ in my life at all.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away. You’d always thought the arguments were just part of who you and Remy were, but now you were seeing them in a new light. Maybe the fighting wasn’t about hating each other. Maybe it was about caring too much.

But that realization only made things more complicated.

“Remy, I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can just... turn off the way I’ve always felt about you.”

“I ain’t askin’ y’ t’ turn anythin’ off,” he said gently. “Just askin’ y’ t’ let yourself feel whatever it is y’ been fightin’.” You shook your head, not daring to look away from him as he stepped closer to you, a small smirk crossing his face, “I don’t know how to,” You said simply. A laugh escaped his lips. “Yeah y’ do. Y’ know damn well how t’.” His eyes flickered to your lips, a silent ask of permission, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of you, standing on the edge of something neither of you fully understood. His presence was electric, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he closed the distance between you. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible, and you found yourself caught between the urge to push him away and the undeniable pull that drew you closer.

There was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, a crack in the confident facade he usually wore so well. It was as if he was laying himself bare, offering you a glimpse into the parts of him that he kept hidden from everyone else. For once, there was no playful banter, no flirtatious remarks—just the raw, unfiltered truth of what he felt.

“Y’ don’ have t’ figure it all out right now,” Remy continued, his voice low and soothing. “We can take it slow, see where this goes. But I don’ wanna pretend like there’s nothin’ here when I know damn well there is. And I think y’ know it too.” You wanted to look away, to turn and run from the intensity of his gaze, but something kept you rooted in place. The way he was looking at you made it hard to breathe, like he could see right through the walls you’d spent so long building. It wasn’t just the fights or the tension between you; it was the fear of what lay beyond them—the fear of letting yourself feel too much, too deeply. Remy was chaos and comfort all wrapped into one, and admitting what he meant to you felt like stepping off the edge of a cliff.

You clenched your fists at your sides, the familiar rush of panic creeping in. “Remy, I don’t think you get it,” you said, your voice breaking. “If I admit it—if I admit what I feel—it means I’m giving up control. It means letting go of this idea that I can keep everything in a neat little box and pretend like it’s all fine.”

Your heart pounded as you continued, each word feeling like a risk. “And I’m not used to that. I’m not used to letting someone in, not like this. I’m scared that if I do, it’ll all go wrong. That one day you’ll just—”

“Walk away?” Remy finished softly, his eyes still locked on yours. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, chérie. I ain’t askin’ y’ t’ give up control. I’m just askin’ y’ t’ be honest with me. Honest with yourself.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear. Every instinct told you to protect yourself, to guard your heart like you always had. But the way he was looking at you, the way his touch lingered on your skin—it made you want to believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to do this alone.

“I’ve spent so long convincing myself that caring was a weakness,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “That showing you how much I care would give you power over me. And I can’t help but think... if I let myself feel this, it’s just going to hurt.”

Remy’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, closing the gap between you. “I ain’t here t’ hurt y’,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “I’m here ‘cause I care about y’, and I want y’ t’ see that. I want y’ t’ know that all those arguments, all that pushin’ and pullin’—it ain’t ‘cause we hate each other.”

You searched his face, looking for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was unwavering determination. He believed in this—in whatever this was between you—and for the first time, you allowed yourself to consider that maybe, just maybe, it could be real.

Swallowing hard, you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “Okay.”

The uncertainty still lingered, but as you stood there, holding onto him, you felt the first stirrings of hope. Maybe fighting wasn’t the opposite of love—maybe it was just another way of holding on when you didn’t know how to let go. And as Remy’s lips finally met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, you realized that some battles were worth fighting after all. As Remy’s lips brushed against yours, it was gentle at first, almost tentative, like he was giving you one last chance to pull away. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into him and let yourself sink into the kiss, something inside you snapped. All the tension, all the arguments, all the things you’d kept bottled up came rushing to the surface, and before you knew it, you were kissing him back with a desperation that surprised you both.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, as if you were afraid he might vanish if you let go. Remy responded in kind, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you against him with an intensity that made your heart race. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, and you could feel the heat between you building with every passing second. His tongue teased against yours, and you let out a small, involuntary moan that made him grip you even tighter.

“Chérie,” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged with need. “Y’ sure about this?”

You nodded, barely able to find the words. “I need this. I need you.”

His eyes darkened, and he kissed you again, harder this time, like he was trying to pour everything he felt into that one moment. You let yourself be swept away, losing yourself in the feel of him—his hands on your hips, his mouth trailing heated kisses down your neck, the way he whispered your name like it was the only thing that mattered.

Without breaking the kiss, Remy guided you backward, his hands never leaving your body. You stumbled slightly, your back hitting the wall with a soft thud, and Remy followed, pressing against you with a possessiveness that made your head spin. His mouth moved lower, grazing the sensitive skin of your throat, and you tilted your head back, giving him more access as your breathing became more erratic.

He slid one leg between yours, pressing against you in a way that sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. You arched into him, your hands roaming his back, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt. It wasn’t enough—you needed more, needed to feel his skin against yours, and your fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

Remy’s lips quirked into a brief, mischievous smile before he did the same for you, tugging your shirt up and over, his eyes darkening as they took in the sight of you. He paused, just for a second, his gaze meeting yours in a silent question, and when you nodded, he wasted no time. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve, every line, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingertips.

You shivered under his touch, your own hands exploring the expanse of his chest, the hard planes of his stomach, and the feel of his skin against yours sent a thrill through you that was impossible to ignore. You tugged him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him, and he obliged, pressing against you so that there was no space left between your bodies.

Remy’s mouth found yours again, the kiss hungrier now, and he shifted his hips, grinding against you in a way that made you gasp. He swallowed the sound, his tongue delving deeper as his hands slid down to your hips, lifting you slightly so that your legs wrapped around his waist. The movement was smooth, almost effortless, and he held you there, pinned against the wall, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“Tell me what y’ want,” he breathed, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, your fingers threading through his hair as you tried to catch your breath. “I want you,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “All of you.”

He grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes, and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone, making you tremble. “Then y’ got me, chérie,” he said, his voice a husky promise against your skin. “Every last bit.”

“Been wantin’ this for a long time,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you reached up, brushing a hand along his jaw. “Me too,” you admitted, the weight of the confession hanging between you. “More than you know.”

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile before he kissed you again, and this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. The rest of the world faded away as you lost yourself in him, in the heat and the urgency and the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. Remy’s gaze was heavy, full of promises and unspoken desires as he moved away slightly, his breath warm against your skin. The air between you crackled with anticipation, each second stretching out like an eternity. His fingers traced a line along your side, his touch featherlight, sending a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension building as he let his hand drift lower, skimming over the curve of your waist and dipping just beneath the waistband of your pants.

Every touch felt like a question, a silent plea for permission, and you answered by arching into him, your hands roaming over his shoulders and down the length of his back, feeling the play of muscle beneath his skin. He dipped his head, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that left you breathless, and you lost yourself in the taste of him, the way his tongue tangled with yours in a rhythm that felt both familiar and new.

You let your fingers trace the line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble under your fingertips as you tugged him closer. He responded with a low growl, a sound that sent a rush of heat straight to your core, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as his mouth moved to your neck, nipping and kissing along the sensitive skin. His hands moved with purpose now, sliding under your clothes and pushing them aside as if they were nothing more than an obstacle keeping him from you.

“Y’ such a good girl,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with a mix of lust and something deeper that made your heart race. His hands were everywhere, exploring, mapping every inch of you like he was committing you to memory, and you reveled in the way his touch set your skin on fire.

You arched beneath him, a moan escaping your lips as he found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. He smiled against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the press of his body against yours, the way he made you feel like you were the only two people in existence.

His hands moved lower, deftly unfastening your jeans and sliding them down your legs with a practiced ease that made your breath hitch. You helped him, kicking them off as he watched, his gaze hungry and appreciative. He made quick work of his own clothes, his movements hurried but careful, as if he couldn’t wait another second to have you but still wanted to savor every moment.

When he finally settled between your thighs, the feel of him grounding you, you let out a shaky breath. Remy paused, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that took you by surprise. “We don’t have to rush, y’know,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “We got all night.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart. “But I want to. I want you.”

The words seemed to light something inside him, and he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all heat and need. Remy pressed closer, his body aligned with yours as he deepened the kiss. The world around you faded into the background as the heat between you intensified. His hand trailed up your thigh, fingers dancing along your skin, and a shiver of anticipation coursed through you. Remy’s low groan resonated between you, a sound that sent a rush of heat through your veins, pooling low in your belly. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and smoldering, the flicker of desire mixed with that familiar, playful mischief that always kept you on your toes. It was a look that promised so much more than words ever could, and your heart raced at the thought of what was to come.

“Someone’s eager,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, dripping with that smooth Cajun drawl that always made your knees weak. There was a teasing edge to his tone, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched your reaction.

You couldn’t help but smirk back, feeling bold under his intense gaze. “I guess I can’t resist that Cajun charm after all,” you quipped, your breath hitching as his hand continued its slow, deliberate journey up your thigh, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

His chuckle was deep, resonating from his chest in a way that made your pulse quicken. The sound was warm and intimate, like he was letting you in on a secret only the two of you shared. “Good thing I’ve got plenty to spare,” he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver straight to your core.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, claiming you in a kiss that was hungrier, more insistent. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, the taste of you driving him wild as his hand slid higher, exploring with a mix of confidence and reverence that made your body arch toward him. He pulled you closer, his tongue sweeping against yours, and you let out a soft whimper that only seemed to spur him on.

His touch was electric, a perfect mix of rough and gentle that had you gasping against his mouth. When his hand finally reached its destination, you could feel the heat of his palm pressing against your most sensitive spot, and you shuddered at the contact, a breathy curse escaping his lips against your mouth. The sound of it—the raw need in his voice—sent a thrill through you, and you knew just how much he wanted you, how close he was to losing control.

“Mon dieu,” Remy breathed, his accent thickening as his fingers traced delicate patterns, teasing and testing your resolve. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and uneven as he watched your expression shift with each calculated touch. “Y’ feel so good, chérie. Been dreamin’ ‘bout this.”

You bit your lip, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself against the wave of sensation crashing over you. “Keep talking like that,” you managed, your voice trembling with barely restrained desire, “and I might just lose my mind.”

Remy grinned, his thumb circling with maddening precision, coaxing a low moan from your throat. “Well, ain’t that the point?” he said, his breath ghosting over your lips as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. His hand worked skillfully, each movement deliberate, like he was savoring the way your body responded to him. The tension built steadily, your breaths mingling as you both lost yourselves in the rhythm, the dance of push and pull that you’d been perfecting for what felt like forever.

The anticipation was maddening, the way he hovered on the edge, drawing out every little gasp and shiver, every whispered plea that slipped past your lips. He was relentless, his touch both gentle and commanding, as if he knew exactly how to unravel you piece by piece. And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, that the tension might break you, Remy leaned in, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

“Tell me what y’ want, chérie,” he murmured, his tone dripping with desire and a hint of challenge. His thumb pressed down just a little harder, and you felt the world tilt, your breath catching in your throat. “I wanna hear y’ say it.”

You met his gaze, your own eyes blazing with want as you finally gave in, letting the last of your restraint slip away. “I want you, Remy,” you confessed, your voice raw and unguarded. “I want everything.”

His response was immediate, a soft groan escaping him as he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, the full weight of his need crashing into you like a tidal wave. And in that moment, with his hands and mouth working in perfect harmony, you knew you were lost to him, lost to the undeniable pull that had drawn you together time and time again. You weren’t fighting anymore; you were falling—fast and hard—and this time, you didn’t want to stop.

With a surge of boldness, you let one hand drift down his chest, tracing the lines of his toned abdomen before reaching lower. You felt him tense at your touch, and he broke the kiss with a moan.

You melted into his touch as his fingers explored every inch of your heat, teasing and tantalizing until you were dripping with need. The world around you ceased to exist as pleasure consumed your senses.

Needing more than just his touch on the outside of your panties separating him from where he longed to be; Remy’s fingers slipped past the fabric effortlessly; sending shivers coursing through your body. He growled at the feel of how wet and ready you were for him. His thumb found its way to your clit circling it slowly driving waves after waves of ecstasy. In between moans, you managed to slide down Remy’s briefs freeing an erection throbbing so hard it wanted nothing more than bury itself within your warmth without any other obstacles.

His fingers kept their steady rhythm inside of you bringing you closer to the edge with every passing second, each deliberate thrust like a promise of what was yet to come.

With a gasp that turned into a low moan, you tightened around his fingers as your orgasm crashed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. He watched every blissful moment, his eyes full of admiration and lust; before he withdrew his hand and placed it behind one of your thighs lifting it slightly in a silent request, “Good girl,” He whispered, his forehead resting on your own. You gladly obliged, wrapping your leg around his waist and pulling him impossibly closer.

Remy positioned himself at your entrance, his tip teasingly grazing your folds. He locked eyes with you, seeking permission, and you nodded, desperate for him to fill the ache inside of you. With agonizing slowness, he pushed forward, inch by glorious inch, until he was buried deep within your heat. A symphony of sighs and groans spilled from both of your lips as he stretched you deliciously.

“Fuck,” Remy muttered through gritted teeth. “Y’ feel s’ good.”

You echoed his sentiment with a breathy moan as he began to move. Each thrust was a perfect blend of passion and restraint, hitting all the right spots and driving you higher with every stroke. The world around you faded away until it was just the two of you, lost in the rhythm of each other’s bodies.

His hips rocked against yours in a deliciously torturous tempo that had your head spinning. He held onto your hip tightly guiding himself deeper. Without warning, you moved one of your hands, moving its way up and down his chest until it reached its final goal. Softly grasping one nipple between thumb and index finger before applying more pressure, tugging it as you felt another low growl rumble through his chest.

“Merde,” he hissed, a mix of pleasure and frustration lacing his voice.

Feeling the effect you had on him only spurred you on, and your hand trailed lower, gripping his ass tightly and pulling him impossibly closer. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the air along with your combined moans, driving the passion between you to new heights.

Beads of sweat rolled down your bodies as the temperature rose with every stroke. Your senses were overwhelmed by the feel of him inside you, the sound of your mingled breaths, and the delicious friction that threatened to send you both hurtling over the edge.

Then, with a primal groan that could have set fire to a room, Remy came undone; his whole body trembling as he spilled himself inside of you. His grip on you tightened almost painfully as he rode out his release; whispering incoherent words in French that made heat pool between your thighs. His orgasm triggered yours too, waves after waves crashing through your body leaving in their wake nothing but pure bliss.

You clung to each other as reality slowly seeped back in, your breaths ragged and hearts pounding. Remy pressed soft kisses along your shoulder, struggling slightly to maintain balance but never separating from within. He eventually pulled out, cupping your face gently and capturing your lips in a tender kiss full of unspoken promises.

Remy gently placed you down, a soft exhale escaping your lips. Your body still hummed with the aftershocks of what had just transpired, a mix of lingering heat and a deep, unexpected tenderness that left you feeling both exhilarated and vulnerable. You watched as Remy reached for the clothes you passed to him, a simple gesture that felt strangely intimate—more so than anything else that had just happened between you.

There was a flutter in your chest, a complicated tangle of emotions that you couldn't quite sort through: the satisfaction of closeness, the warmth of his touch, but also the creeping uncertainty that always seemed to follow moments like this. You wanted to savor the way his fingers brushed against yours when he took the clothes, the unspoken connection that made your pulse quicken despite the calming aftermath. But beneath that was the faint whisper of doubt, the question of what this all meant, and where it would leave the both of you when the morning came.

You studied Remy as he pulled on his shirt, his movements unhurried and almost thoughtful, as if he was taking his time not just with the task but with the moment itself. He glanced up at you, catching your eye with that familiar, roguish smile that always seemed to know more than it let on. It was a smile that made your heart skip a beat, because it was impossible not to be drawn in by it—by him. You couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way, if his mind was as clouded with thoughts of 'what ifs' and 'where do we go from heres.'

The air between you was charged with unspoken words, the room thick with the weight of shared breaths and the faint scent of him lingering on your skin. There was a comfort in it, an aching sweetness in the quiet that stretched between you, but also a nagging fear of missteps and misunderstandings that seemed to lurk just outside the glow of the moment. You found yourself caught in the delicate balance between wanting to keep things light, easy, as they'd always been, and the sudden, overwhelming urge to reach out and make this real, to solidify the intangible connection that pulsed between you.

As Remy pulled on his pants, you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze softened when it landed on you, a subtle shift that made your breath hitch. It was as if he could see straight through the walls you’d built, right into the heart of your hesitation and hope. It unnerved you how easily he seemed to read you, how effortlessly he could make you feel seen without even trying. And maybe that was the scariest part of all—how much you wanted to be seen, to be known, even when it felt risky, even when it meant opening up to the possibility of more.

You pulled your own clothes closer, the fabric cool against your still-warm skin, and took a moment to steady your breathing. The urge to say something—anything—bubbled up inside you, but the words seemed to tangle on your tongue. What do you say when everything feels like it's teetering on the edge of changing forever? When you're caught between the safety of what you know and the terrifying promise of what could be?

Remy caught the hesitation in your eyes and paused, his expression softening as he leaned closer, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Y’ good, chérie?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a gentleness that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t the playful banter you were used to; it was sincere, almost vulnerable, like he was reaching out to you in a way that went beyond words.

You nodded, but the truth was, you weren’t sure. Your feelings for him were a messy, beautiful tangle of affection and desire, friendship and something more profound that you were still too scared to name. It was overwhelming, this rush of emotions that left you feeling like you were standing on the edge of something vast and unknown. But as you looked into Remy’s eyes, that familiar spark of mischief mixed with something deeper, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you were ready to take the leap.

"Well, someone looks pretty pleased with himself," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Remy chuckled, turning to face you with that infuriatingly charming smile. "Can’t help it, chérie. I aim t' please, and from th’ look on y’ face, I’d say I hit th’ mark."

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head, Lebeau."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Who, me? Naw, chérie, m’ ego’s jus’ fine right where it is." His hand drifted lazily to trace patterns on your arm, his touch light and absent-minded. "’Sides, y’ didn’t seem t’ mind a bit of that charm earlier."

“Don’t push it,” you warned playfully, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

“Too late,” he quipped, his grin widening. “Y’ already all tangled up in it.”

You shook your head, laughter bubbling up as you pulled your jumper on, "I can’t believe I put up with you," you sighed dramatically.

Remy’s laughter rumbled through him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “’Cause y’ love m’ charm, chérie. An’ y’ love me, too, even when y’ won’t admit it.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, trying to keep your tone light despite the flutter in your chest. "You know, you’re lucky you’re good at this, otherwise you’d be out of here so fast."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Lucky f’ both of us, then."

You swatted at him, but your laughter spilled over, mingling with his. It was moments like these—caught between playfulness and something deeper—that made everything else feel worth it.

#Ask answered #Remy Lebeau x Reader #Gambit x Reader #Reader Insert

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freaksun · 4 months ago

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tongue piercing reader x best friend!eddie munson

no smut nothing rlly happens just mutual pining and bad writing !! Eddie says m’lady but i think thats the only mention of gender.

You got your tongue pierced today, in a very professional shop a little out of town. Away from your best friend, eddie. Driving back, you decide to stop at a gas station to call and make sure hes home, you wanna stop by and show him your new shiny addition!!

the phone only rings once.

“Hey eddie!!” You almost squeal, though your mouth hurts, youre already excited to show him.

“Hi sweetheart, whats up?” He asks, adorning one of his many nicknames for you. Despite his constant use it still makes you a little flush.

“Are you at home?”

“‘Course babe, why?” God, he couldnt stand to just call you by your name, could he?

“Im stopping by.” You state. You two stopped asking years ago, obsesed with each others presence.

You drive the rest of the way, jamming to the radio though you dont sing like you usually do.

He hears the crunch of gravel under your wheels as you pull up, the low hum of the radio, he jumps to his feet before you even stop the car, and hes outside before you can even open your door. You smile excitedly, you cant wait to blow his mind.

Opening your door, he helps you out, faux gentlemanly.

“M’lady” he grins “to what do i owe your grace?”

You smile, almost evilly “glad you asked, munson”

he looks puzzled, you usually play along with his antics, speaking back in some awful old-timey accent.

“Well, go on” eager thing.

You dont indulge him just yet, letting yourself into his home, saying hi to his sweet uncle wayne as he follows you inside. You bee line to his room, your safe haven.

“Guess what i got pierced” you start with, giddy, as you sit on his bed. (Ignoring the crumbs that are splayed across his sheets)

his cheshire grin grows instantaneously. “What????”

Instead of just showing him, you like to tease. “My tongue.”

“What????? No fucking way. You did not, youre lying.” He almost fumbles over his words hes so excited. When he met you, you were a shy kid he had to coax to talk to him.

“Show me.” He demands, like i said, you two passed politeness a long, long time ago.

You smile, ready to indulge. You stick your tongue out, admiring the surprised and maybe even shocked look on his face. You giggle at his widened eyes, your tongue returning to its place.

He takes a few huge steps towards you, sitting next to you. His hand timidly holds your chin, eyes meeting yours (finally)

“S-show me again” theres a new unsteady shake in his voice. You obey, sticking your tongue out again, more relaxed this time. He moves your head side to side, grasp on your chin steady. He admires you for a few seconds before his questions flood his mind.

“Where the hell- how did- where did you get this??” Is the first. “jesus, were they clean?? Professional??”

You scoff “of course, teddy come on”

He smiles. “Why the hell did you go without me? I mean honestly i coulda done it myself” you giggle, a sound warm and welcome to him. he turns his head to the side, still staring at your new addition, his hand still holding your head in place.

“I know, i know, but i dunno… guess i kinda wanted to surprise you. And honestly, i feel like itd be harder if it were you.”

He smiles downwards, like a guilty child. he takes his hand away.

“What? Why?”

You match him suddenly shy again. “Well, i-i dont know. I guess cause im not scared to back out so i probably would. And cause i like, trust you” you break eye contact, staring down at his pretty hands instead. “Like, so i wouldnt be expecting it to hurt cause its you…”

you dont look up to see it, but hes grinning like you just told him youre in love with him. Which by his standards, you basically did.

See, Eddies been head over heels for you since the moment you met, as kids. He always thought you were far too good for him. Too sweet, too pretty, too kind. So he never pushed a line. What hes blind to see, however, is the way you absolutely melt in his gentle hold, thw way your knees almost buckle when he calls you any of your many many nicknames.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #fics #my fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #y/n #x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #bestfriend!eddie x reader #mutual pining

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lucifersdickriderdotnet · 3 months ago

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A Little Surprise

Summary: Through an unfortunate series of events, Lucifer has been transformed into someone much younger, much freakier, and much different. It's Mammon's job to take care of him. 5k words.

Disclaimer: NOT DEMONCEST. JUST BROS BEING BROS.

Notes: hey guys. This is my first ever (posted) Obey Me fanfic. If it's bad. No it's not. Baby Lucifer looks different because I headcannon that he did. If you disagree that's okay but I don't want to hear it. There are a lot of personal headcannons in here that you will have to pry from my cold dead hands. Also, Baby Lucifer is like, a freak. And vaugely autistic. (I'm so nervous about posting this please think it's good.)

“Run that by me one more time.” Mammon has his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the Demon Prince, heir to the Devildom Throne, with nothing less than malice in his eyes.

“It seems that there was a mishap involving him and Solomon.” Diavolo looks shy somehow, cowed. Even Barbatos looks wary. It’s rare for Mammon to get genuinely angry, rare for him to talk in any way that is not casual and lighthearted, and it’s rarer still for Lucifer to be absent.

“Yer aware that there ‘re very few curses that work on my brother?”

“Yes. I am– I am truly sorry, Mammon. I hadn’t realized that there would be this much trouble.”

“He’s only been tellin’ ya for ages how untrustworthy he finds Solomon.” Diavolo flinches back slightly, “But sure. ’S no way you coulda known.” Mammon can see Barbatos about to step in and defend his master, and he holds up a hand to stop it. Unlike his brother, Mammon holds no allegiance to either of them. His loyalty is to his brothers, he only cares for Diavolo because Lucifer does, and currently, there is no Lucifer.

“Just. Tell me where he is.” His arms are still crossed over his chest and they remain that way as he follows the two through the Castle. For once, he doesn’t even consider stealing anything, doesn’t flinch at the ghostly noises that filter through the halls, he just silently follows the two people who are supposed to be powerful enough to protect his brother. The two people who failed.

Unsurprisingly, the room that Diavolo had unofficially converted into a study for Lucifer is a mess. Mammon knows that Lucifer’s study at home isn’t exactly neat, but he also knows that his brother’s pride would never allow him to dirty someone else's home. Especially if that someone else is Diavolo. Still, he hadn’t expected the room to be in its typical pristine condition when he learned what had happened. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected there to be a room at all when he checked his D.D.D. and saw Diavolo’s name flash across the screen instead of Lucifer’s.

Standing in the corner of the room is Lucifer, although this Lucifer is much younger and much smaller and brighter, and standing in the opposite corner is Solomon, cowering and silent in a way that is entirely uncharacteristic. To be fair, Mammon would be cowering too if a fledgling Lucifer was staring at him. From what Mammon remembers hearing, before Michael was created, Lucifer was alone. It was just him and Father for a long time. Michael says Lucifer didn’t stop becoming off putting until Sariel was created, and even then he was weird.

“Who are you?” Lucifer’s voice is booming and loud and fills the whole room. He doesn’t open his mouth to speak and Mammon is hit with the sudden realization that he hasn’t learned he can yet.

“I’ve already told you! I’m a sorcerer! My name is Solomon and–”

“Lies.” Solomon flinches back at Lucifer’s words even though the latter hasn’t moved an inch. “Solomon is not born yet. He is to be a great king full of wisdom. You are not him. He does not exist.” Mammon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Lucifer.” His brother’s head turns slowly towards him.

“Who are you?” There’s the boom again, shaking the walls of the room, knocking trinkets older than Mammon off of the shelves.

“I’m… I’m yer brother, Mammon.” He takes a step towards Lucifer’s corner and watches and Lucifer’s wings fluff up to make himself bigger. He almost forgot how brilliant they were, all six of them, brilliant and white and pearlescent. He forgot a lot of things about his brother’s angelic form, apparently. Like how his eyes are an unsettling shade of blue, and the white-blonde of his hair. He forgot how much Lucifer changed when he fell, God’s favorite, disgraced for all eternity.

“I do not have those. Yet. I will be getting some soon.”

“Yeah, I know. Somethin’s wrong and everythin’s all topsy-turvy. I promise ‘m not lyin’ though.” He takes a step closer.

“My brother, you said?”

“Yup.”

“Hmm.” Lucifer eyes him, sizes him up and down as Mammon finally gets within touching distance. He knows that even in this much younger, much smaller form, he would lose in a fight to his older brother. He thinks Lucifer must know this, too. There is a moment of silence where the two stare at each other, before Lucifer walks closer to him and headbutts his hip.

“Thank you for finding me. I do not like it here.” The top of Lucifer’s head barely reaches Mammon’s waistline and he’s going to hate that everyone knows he used to be shorter than Luke. Mammon snorts, patting his head gently.

“Of course. Yer my brother after all. It’s my duty.” Lucifer nods resolutely and grabs Mammon’s hand. He’s cold, but then again, he is even as a demon, so that’s nothing new.

Lucifer does not acknowledge Diavolo as they leave, he doesn’t comment on the way Barbatos is most certainly a demon, and he doesn’t mention the demonic energy he can feel radiating off of Mammon. He simply steps through the portal Barbatos created and stays quiet.

–

Levi is currently pounding on Mammon’s door. Mammon owes him 500 Grimm for not telling Satan that he was the one who broke a shelf in the library and Levi intends to collect.

“Mammon! I know you're home! Open the door!” There's a lot of weird scuffling on the other side before the door opens a crack and he's met with a singular blue eye.

“What?”

“You owe me.” He watches that eye roll and the door shuts for a second before a hand is shoved through the crack and Grimm is being unceremoniously thrust at him.

“Here. Now go away.” The door shuts again and Levi stares at the colored wood and immediately pulls out his phone.

Everyone Except Mammon

Levi: guys. Mammon just paid me back.

Satan: ?????

Beel: maybe he finally came to his senses

Levi: it's Mammon

Beel: yeah okay

Levi: he also wouldn't let me in his room

Levi: like he didn't even open the door all the way

Levi: he only opened it a crack

Asmo: do you think he's hiding something?

Levi: it's Mammon

Asmo: yeah okay

Asmo: so what should we do? break in?

Belphie: we could ask Lucifer?

Levi: he's with Diavolo on business

Belphie: it's Mammon

Levi: yeah okay

Levi exits the chat and opens his contact for Lucifer. He doesn't usually let it ring more than once when it's his brothers. He hates to be left out of the loop and worries for them even if he hates to admit it. Levi’s call goes to voicemail, so he tries again. And again. Lucifer doesn't pick up at all.

Levi: Lucifer isn't answering his phone

Asmo: what

Levi: I called three times

Satan: I didn't curse his phone this time

Beel: Belphie?

Belphie: nope

Levi: should we call Diavolo?

Satan: no

Satan: we should ask Mammon

Levi pounds on the door again and is met with more cursing and shuffling on the other side of the door.

“Mammon? What's happening in there?”

“Mind your own business!”

“Your business is my business!”

Levi: he won't let me in

Belphie: then wait until he leaves and sneak in or smth

Levi grumbles to himself and resolves to wait. Mammon is gonna get hungry eventually, his chance will come.

It takes longer than he wants for Mammon to leave his room, his own door cracked open so he can hear when Mammon’s door opens and shuts. He’s halfway through a boss battle in his latest RPG when it happens and he, regrettably, has to pause. Mammon won't stay out of his room for long, especially if he's hiding something, but it isn't hard for Levi to push open the door and shut it behind him and come face to face with Lucifer.

“Oh, shit.” Levi stands in front of the closed door and stares. Lucifer stares back, except it isn't the Lucifer he knows. He's not tall and imposing, he doesn't have freaky carmine eyes or jet black hair. He doesn't have four wings because he ripped all six off when he Fell and then two sets came back. No, instead his brother is short, shorter than Luke, and still imposing. His brother has bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair and six wings and he's younger than Levi has ever known him. Obviously, he snaps a picture.

“And who might you be?” His brother's jaw moved up and down like a puppet but his voice sounds like it's coming from inside of Levi’s mind. He forgot Lucifer could do that.

“Uh. I'm Levi. Leviathan. We're brothers.” Lucifer's expression doesn't change past its neutral state, but his wings flutter happily.

“I have many brothers? I must be very blessed.”

“You could, uh, you could say that, yeah.” He takes a step forward before deciding to sit on the couch. The door opens the second he does.

“Hey, tyke. I got some food–” Mammon stands, arms laden with snacks that are most definitely Beel’s as the door swings shut behind him.

“Hello, Mammon!” Lucifer's wings flutter again.

“Hey. Levi, what a surprise! Why are you in my room?” He walks over and dumps the snacks in front of Lucifer and he trills happily before ripping something open and chowing down.

“You were hiding something. So, I had to check.”

“What if I was hidin’ a girl in here or somethin’?”

“Except you aren't ‘hiding a girl in here or something.’ You're hiding Lucifer.” Levi gestures wildly towards him and then stands. “What did you do?”

“I didn't do anythin’. Diavolo called and when I got there he was like this.”

“He's a baby!”

“I'm aware!”

“I am not a baby.” They both jump at the volume of Lucifer's voice. “I am already thousands of years old.”

“You look like a baby,” Levi says

“I am older than your feeble mind could ever understand.” Lucifer crosses his arms across his chest. He sounds defensive, like he's had this argument with someone before. It's the most emotion he's displayed all day.

“Yeah, sure.” It's fun to tease Lucifer, and even better when they can get away with it. Levi opens his mouth to say something else when Mammon gives a loud sigh.

“This ‘s why I didn't tell any of ya. Yer all gonna use it to be mean to ‘im.”

“He deserves it.”

“He's literally an infant.”

“No I am not.”

“O’course you aren't,” Mammon soothes, “Yer very big and very strong.” Lucifer preens. And Mammon gives another sigh.

“Levi, get outta my room.”

“I just got here!”

“Don't care. Get out.” Mammon starts pushing him towards the door, shoving him forward despite the fact that Levi is dragging his heels along the floor. He forgets how strong Mammon is sometimes.

“C’mon! Just let me stay in here! I didn't do anything–” The door shuts loudly in his face. He pulls out his D.D.D.

Levi: I figured out what Mammon was hiding

Asmo: and what might that be?

Levi: image sent

Asmo: holy shit

–

In an impressive show of restraint, none of the brothers come knocking on Mammon's door. He expects it, because Levi is a blabbermouth and his brothers are nosy, yet it doesn't happen. Instead, he gets to spend the next hour trying to get Lucifer to talk normally instead of that weird way he used to communicate with Father. He is mostly unsuccessful.

“We'll work on it.” Lucifer frowns at him, a perfectionist even as a child.

“I would like to leave this room.” He says, and it sounds a little more normal.

“What if, and hear me out, we didn't do that?”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“I do not like that answer.” Mammon groans and flops backwards on his couch. Damn Solomon and damn Diavolo for getting him into this mess. And while he's at it, damn Lucifer for being such a weirdo.

“Mammon, please?” Lucifer leans over him until his blue eyes are boring right into Mammon's. He doesn't think Lucifer blinks for a straight minute.

“Yer gonna go out regardless of if I say it's cool or not, aren't ya?”

“Indeed.”

“Fine,” he sits up and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms, “I'll take you to the music room.”

“Music? That sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah, yer a big fan. Well, you are normally.”

“Let us go.” Lucifer’s wings flutter again and Mammon wonders when his brother learned to add inflection into his voice, when he learned to use his facial expressions. He wonders if it ever gets tiring for him to use them now, if he's ever exhausted by the effort it takes to be himself.

Mammon trods down the hallway and Lucifer floats behind him.

“It is dark here.”

“Yeah, we hadta move.”

“I see.”

They enter the music room without much fanfare except Satan is there playing the piano. Lucifer sways happily to the music and floats over to Satan.

“Hello. This is beautiful. What are you playing?” Mammon stifles a laugh at the way Satan nearly jumps out of his skin. Lucifer isn't speaking directly into minds anymore, but it does sound like a disembodied voice is speaking just a little too loudly right next to your ears.

“You've never heard of a piano before?” Satan's voice is full of snark.

“No.” Satan and Lucifer stare at each other for a minute before Satan grumbles and goes back to playing. Mammon goes and sits on Satan's other side.

“You guys never said he was so bright.”

“He is the Morningstar. You thought he just got that name for fun?” Satan shrugs in response, fingers still dancing along the keys.

“We look so similar like this.”

“I don't think so.”

“Don't be condescending.”

“You look more like Lilith than anyone else.” Satan stops abruptly and Lucifer lets out a sad trill.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Mammon bats Satan's hands away and takes over, playing an old lullaby that Lucifer taught him once.

“Oh!” Six wings ruffle, “I know this one!”

“I don't,” Satan says.

“He used ta play it for me when I was younger. When I couldn't sleep. I don't think anyone ‘cept the two of us know it, to be fair.”

“He's never played it here.”

“He doesn't play the piano anymore.”

The song finishes and Lucifer puts his hands on the keys.

“I would like to try.”

“Knock yerself out, bud.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you can go ahead and try.” Satan says and he moves so that Lucifer is in the center of the bench instead of him.

It's almost uncanny the way he plays. Repeating the song Mammon just finished with no error. It's just like him, to be perfect at something on the first try.

“Was that good?” He asks, blue eyes looking at the two of them imploringly.

“‘Course it was.” Mammon says.

“It's you,” Satan crosses his arms over his chest, “it wasn't anything less than perfect.”

“I am sure there is room for improvement.” Lucifer preens despite his attempt at humility. Mammon and Satan share a look over the top of his head.

–

Lucifer wants to go outside next. He all but begs until Mammon relents, and then basically drags him out the front door.

“There is a garden.” He’s mesmerized by the flowers.

“Yeah, ‘s yours. Most everything here is yours, actually.” Outside of their rooms there isn’t really anything the brothers own for themselves. Nothing they put effort into maintaining. Nowhere they spend their time. The library is shared by both Satan and Lucifer, and even though Belphie spends his time in the Planetarium, Lucifer is the one who does the upkeep.

“What are these?” Lucifer’s hands are gentle as he strokes along a petal of a rose.

“They’re roses. You grew ‘em yourself. Created a new breed ‘n everythin’.”

“That is wonderful.” He turns to look at Mammon. “Do you like them?” He stills for a moment. He doesn’t think Lucifer’s asked for anyone’s approval ever. He just does what he likes, what he thinks is best, and deals with whatever consequences happen by asserting his intellectual superiority.

“Yeah. Of course. They’re beautiful.”

They continue their walk through the garden, Lucifer “oo”-ing and “ah”-ing at the different Devildom flora. They come across one of Satan’s stray cats that Lucifer pretends not to know about and he laughs, bright and tinkling. It sounds like wind chimes. Mammon watches his face split open into a smile so bright it hurts to look at before fading into something softer but no less radiant. He doesn’t think he’s seen him this full of joy or wonder ever. He wonders when the last time Lucifer was unburdened.

They come to the center of the garden, where a bubbling fountain sits and find Belphie lying in the grass, staring at the stars.

“Hello.” Lucifer’s voice is less loud now that he’s had more practice, but it still fills the space like he’s talking at you from every direction at once. Belphie tilts his head in Lucifer’s direction.

“Hey.”

“Who are you?” Lucifer leans over him, blocking his view.

“Belphegor.” He pokes the side of Lucifer’s knee and chuckles when Lucifer twitches.

“Are you one of my brothers?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I have so many! It is nice to know I am no longer lonely.” Lucifer pauses for a second. “Not that Father is bad company.”

Belphie hums and puts his hand on the top of Lucifer’s head, pushing him out of the way of the sky. Lucifer squawks and Mammon is definitely going to mock him for it when he goes back to normal.

“That was rude.”

“You were in the way.” Lucifer huffs slightly and tilts his head up to stare at the sky, leaning so far back he almost falls over. Belphie laughs at him. “Lay down, dummy.”

“I am not dumb,” he lays down, wings curling over him like a blanket. “I am incredibly intelligent. Although, there is still much I have to learn.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Belphie’s dry tone makes Lucifer huff again, grumbling softly in irritation. Mammon sits down on one of the benches behind them and looks up too.

“There are many more stars than the last time I looked,” Lucifer says.

“I’d imagine they haven’t formed yet.” Lucifer hums and continues to gape at the full sky. “You see that one?” Belphie grabs Lucifer’s hand and uses it to point at a constellation. Mammon knows which one he’s looking for before he’s done guiding Lucifer’s arm.

“Yes.”

“You and I made that one together.”

“Wow.” Lucifer’s voice is soft, quieting so that it sounds like it’s coming from him instead of from everywhere. He turns his head to look into Belphie’s eyes. “It is radiant. You did a good job.” Belphie sputters at the praise.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You should be proud of your achievements, Belphegor.” He redirects his gaze back at the sky, finally tucking his arm back between his body and his wings. “Creation is a beautiful thing.”

–

The thing about Lucifer’s stare is that it’s always been incredibly unsettling. As an angel or a demon, if he looks at you for long enough, you’re going to spill your secrets. Mammon has only ever known Barbatos and Michael to be immune to the effects. It’s somehow worse now that he’s small. Maybe because there’s no reasoning behind it. He’s not staring to get information out of you, or to get you to behave, he is simply observing. He’s doing it now, watching as Asmo gets ready to leave the house.

“What is that?” He’s standing directly over Asmo’s shoulder, alternating between staring at the side of his face, peering at him through the mirror, and oggling over all the cosmetics Asmo has on his vanity. Mammon is playing on his phone, lounging on Asmo’s bed because Asmo got tired of using him as a test subject half an hour ago.

“It’s blush.” Asmo dips a fluffy brush into it and places it on the highs of his cheekbones.

“What does it do?”

“It makes it look like I have color on my face.” Asmo puts a hand over the half of his face with blush and points in the mirror. “See how my face kind of looks colorless here?” He moves his hand, “Now, I look all rosy.”

“Wow. That is amazing.” Lucifer leans forward more, like getting closer to the mirror will help him see better. “Can I have some?” The question makes Mammon almost drop his phone on his face and makes Asmo still. He meets Lucifer’s sharp blue eyes with his own.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I would like to be colorful, too.” Asmo snorts unattractively and mumbles something Mammon doesn’t hear. He rummages around his desk until he finds a different color blush, something more suitable for Lucifer’s pale complexion.

“Here.” He swipes the brush across Lucifer’s cheeks and nose and Lucifer giggles. Wind chimes tinkling through the air again. Asmo smiles and brushes some across his nose just to watch him scrunch it up.

“That tickles.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

They sit like that for a while, Lucifer watching Asmo do his makeup and then asking what it’s for. Asking for Asmo to do the same to him. It makes Mammon think of the times before RAD was fully built, when Lucifer still had time for all of them. It makes him think of before, right after the twins were born, when by some miracle he was around for long enough to know them. Lucifer’s been busy since before Mammon was thrust on him, since before Mammon was created, he must be so tired.

“What are you doing this for?” Lucifer has shifted so he’s sitting halfway in Asmo’s lap, forcing the younger to work around him and his wings.

“I’m going out.”

“To where?”

“I’m going to hang out with Solomon.” The answer makes Lucifer’s wings ruffle unhappily, makes him cross his arms over his chest.

“I do not like him.” His voice has shifted so it’s louder again, coming from multiple places at once now that he’s upset.

“I know.”

“Then why do you hang out with him?”

“He makes me happy.” Asmo sets his things down and pets the top of Lucifer’s head, fluffing through his hair in a way that Lucifer would never let him if he were himself. At present, the casual affection makes a chirp rise in the back of his throat and he leans into the touch like a cat.

“Oh,” he considers this for a second. “I suppose that if he makes you happy, it is okay.” Asmo laughs.

“You’ve said that before.”

“It is an easy choice. You are happy. That is what matters most to me.”

“He looks so different,” Asmo meets Mammon’s eyes through the mirror, “but I guess his goals have always been the same, haven’t they?”

–

Lucifer insists on walking Asmo to the door and staring down Solomon silently as they leave. It makes Mammon laugh and Solomon almost piss his pants. Asmo rolls his eyes at the whole ordeal and kisses Lucifer’s forehead as he leaves. Neither of them take a picture of the way his cheeks flush at the action, just like neither of them set it as his contact photo.

“Mammon,” Lucifer tugs on his sleeve as they make their way back to Mammon’s room, “I am hungry.” Mammon sighs and redirects them to the kitchen.

They find Beel in there, gross and sweaty from a workout, and angrily rummaging through the cabinets.

“Mammon,” he does not sound happy, “where are all of my snacks?”

“Uhhh.” He’s seconds away from slinging Lucifer over his shoulder and sprinting out of the kitchen when Lucifer moves over to look in the cabinets and recognizes something.

“Oh,” he pulls out a bag of chips that only Beel eats, “I had some of these earlier. May I have them again?” He’s looking at Mammon and Beel is looking at him and Mammon sends a prayer to the Demon King that Lucifer manages to survive this because he doesn’t know what he’d do without him.

“You.” Beel’s face is slowly turning red. “You ate my chips.”

“I had not realized they were yours. They are very good.”

There’s a moment of silence where Lucifer stares up at Beel and Beel takes several deep breaths in and out.

“That’s the last bag.”

“Would you like it, then? Mammon will surely find me something else.”

“No,” he sighs, “I guess you can have it.”

“Thank you!” He smiles again and Beel squints against it. “That is very kind.”

“You always say you hate that flavor.” Beel watches Lucifer tear into the bag like he hasn’t eaten in days. Save for the snacks Mammon gave him earlier, he probably hasn’t.

“I do not know why I would lie. These are very good. My favorite of the ones Mammon provided me with earlier.”

“They’re my favorite, too.”

“Would you like to share?” Lucifer offers Beel the bag and pouts a little when Beel shakes his head. His fingers and cheeks are covered in chip crumbs and he’s generally making a mess. He looks adorable.

Beel grumbles and looks at Mammon unhappily,

“You’re lucky.”

“Most definitely.”

“I’m going back to my workout.” Beel grabs something from the fridge that has Mammon’s name on it and makes to leave the kitchen, and Lucifer floats behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“To the gym.”

“What is a ‘gym’?”

“Uh. Follow me, I guess.” And he does. Lucifer watches in wonder as Beel returns to whatever set he was on, insists on trying the equipment, too. “Hey, do you wanna try something?”

“Yes!”

Beel sets himself up for a push up and gestures for his brother to sit on his back. Lucifer finds it delightful, wind-chime giggles ringing through the gym. It almost makes the stench of Beel sweat bearable.

–

Beel has usurped Mammon as little Lucifer’s favorite just because Beel is carrying him around the House on his shoulders.

“That’s not even fair! I can carry him!” Mammon walks slowly in front of Beel on purpose, not above tripping him to get what he wants.

“But you aren’t.” Beel walks deftly around him and Lucifer laughs at the way Mammon runs to catch up. He’s lucky he’s cute.

“Hey!” Levi’s door bangs open and it startles Mammon enough that he shrieks. “I want to hang out with him, too.”

“Levi,” Lucifer wiggles himself off of Beel’s shoulders, “we met earlier, yes?”

“Uh,” he doesn’t seem to know what to do under the weight of his brother’s stare, “yeah. We did.”

“I have done an activity with everyone. What is your activity?”

“We could play a game?”

“Like hide and seek? I do not like hide and seek.” Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest in a way that makes him look almost petulant. “Father always wins.”

“No, I was thinking we could play, uhm. Devil Kart.”

“I do not know what that is.”

“Good, maybe I’ll actually beat you this time.” Levi’s words make Lucifer ruffle in displeasure.

“I do not like to lose.”

“No, you definitely don’t.”

Levi pulls the three of them into his room and turns on the TV, feiging surprise when everything is already set up.

“Will you teach me how to play?” He considers it for a split second.

“No, you’ll figure it out. Afterall, you’re not a baby right?” Lucifer lets out another unflattering squawk followed by grumbles about fairness.

Despite the fact that no one taught him how to play, Lucifer proceeds to beat them all at the game in a way that is unsurprising but extremely annoying. Levi pouts and sighs about it, Envy leaking into the air.

“Do not fret, Levi. I am sure there are things you are better at than me.”

“Don’t lie, Lucifer. You’re good at everything.” Levi sinks further into his tub and jumps when Lucifer’s head pops over the rim.

“I do not believe so. I think I am bad at spending time with my family.” Lucifer’s face twists into a frown. “I did not think I was one to squander such blessings.”

“Well, it’s not like that’s your fault,” Levi rushes to comfort his brother, only because seeing his usually neutral face in anything except that or a smile is discomforting. “You have a lot of responsibilities.”

“Then it is not your fault I beat you at the game then, is it?” A mischievous twinkle lights up his blue eyes, “I must have what they call beginner’s luck.” Levi sits up suddenly, reenergized.

“Yeah! Obviously! There’s no way I’m letting a baby beat me in my own domain.” He grabs a controller again and Lucifer resolutely doesn’t mention the fact that he’s no longer a baby.

–

By the time they all turn in, Levi has managed to beat Lucifer once. Coincidentally, that’s when he kicks them all out of his room, claiming tiredness. The timing works out, because Lucifer is rubbing his eyes tiredly and stifling yawns. Mammon has to restrain the urge to coo several times.

The walk from Levi’s room to Mammon’s is a short one, but Lucifer still seems too tired to make it, so of course, Mammon carries him there. He sets his brother into his bed and goes to lay on his couch when a tiny hand grabs at his wrist.

“Mammon?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Sure.” Mammon crawls under his covers and pretends like this isn’t the first time in a long time he’s cuddled with his brother like this. There’s quiet, and Mammon thinks that Lucifer must be asleep when he says something.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.”

“It’s nothin’.”

“It is not. It is everything.”

–

Mammon knows his brother is back to normal when he wakes up because he is both no longer the big spoon and because baby Lucifer didn’t have this many muscles.

“Mammon,” his brother’s voice is deeper and for once feels like it’s coming out of his body instead of out of thin air.

“Mmh.” He doesn’t move away from the cuddle. Lucifer’s arms seem to tighten around him.

“Thank you.”

“‘S whatever.” He hears Lucifer let out a huff at his easy dismissal and decides to ignore it. His brother’s arms are nice, comforting. It’s been a long time since they’ve hugged like this, since he’s been able to rest in the safety of Lucifer’s hold. He misses it.

“I have to get up.”

“Nah.” Another sigh. Lucifer only shifts to get more comfortable.

“Don’t tell anyone that I’m doing this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

–

It doesn’t matter that Mammon didn’t tell anyone, because the two of them fall back to sleep and when Beel comes to fetch them for breakfast he takes a picture instead of waking them up.

Lucifer has to pay Asmo not to post it.

#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #obey me fanfic #bee writes

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Note

so excited for next raider joel i am literally foaming at the mouth

Company

2.2k / dark raider!joel x dark!f!reader x ofc

raider master

gif by @serenaxpedro

“I’ll do it,” you say, unsure what that even means. Joel looks surprised and impressed. “You’ll do it, then,” he repeats quietly.

Skip ahead to Raider: Close if you're not into the warnings.

WARNINGS: Striking through extra detailed spoilery warnings but wanna be thorough. These don't all happen to reader. Angst, jealousy, dark reader!, FFM threesome kind of, oral m & f receiving, spanking/pussy slapping, noncon gunplay/penetration, unsafe P in V sex (not btwn Joel and OFC), dubcon via captivity, degradation, cum eating, threat of/allusions to cheating kind of. joel makes reader noncon ofc, f on f oral PLUS stuff already in play like being chained up.

A/N: Ask 1, Ask 2. TBH I had trouble getting on board with the idea of adding another girl, but eventually a twisted version i could live with came together in my head. Still, I bet some people will not like it. Please don't read if you could be triggered or upset. 🧡 I did not describe the OFC, so please HC her however makes you happy.

When Joel gets back, his arms are the first thing you notice. He’s wearing a body holster with a pistol over his mesh tank top. The body holster makes his shoulder muscles look even more imposing. The second thing you notice is that he’s not alone. He’s dragging another girl by her elbow. She looks like she’s been crying, but she’s not now. She’s angry. Joel doesn’t look at you when he comes in. He slams the door behind him and hangs up his gun. He throws her down on the other bed, then cages her with his body. He holds her chin and and says, “Don’t fuckin’ move.” She spits in his face.

He takes a deep breath and cracks his neck without his hands. ”Been nothin’ but nice to ya,” he says. “That ends now.”

Shamefully, your first thought is, what does he mean by ‘nice to her’? Was he the same as he is with you? Did he save her from a worse fate? Did he stroke her cheek and tell her it was going to be alright? Did tell her he was going to take her with him, protect her from far worse men? How many times has he done this? You hate to think you might not be special.

Joel unbuttons his pants and looks at the girl menacingly. “Coulda made this enjoyable for ya,” he says regretfully. “Too bad.”

Your stomach turns and your heart pounds. Is this all because you kissed him? Is he punishing you for your affection? It’s not fair. He’s the one who kissed you first in the middle of the night. Your eyes sting with tears. You can’t sit here and let this happen.

“What are you doing?” you cry.

“What am I doing?” he laughs. He pauses without unzipping his pants. Finally, he looks at you as he palms himself. Your eyes follow his hand and you’re relieved to see he’s not fully hard yet.

“Don’t,” you plead. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

He unzips his tight jeans and takes his semi-hard cock out. He asks you, “Where should I put it?” with his pelvis still pointed toward the other bed.

“Do you have to put it anywhere?” you whimper. The girl looks at you hopefully like you really have a say. Like you might be trying to help her.

“Do I have to,” he grumbles. You run through the options in your head. He could put it in her mouth, that’s not too bad. A mouth is just a mouth, right? There’s no way she would do a good job on purpose. But hopefully she wouldn’t bite him, either.

Joel approaches you and spits in his hand. As he begins to stroke himself with the spit, you say, “Let me.” He holds his cock for you and you try to suck him as good as you can, but he just wants the saliva. He won’t let you make him come. Your eyes well up.

“Shhhh,” he says and cups your cheek as he takes his cock away. He sighs, then nods back toward the rest of the stash house. “You think they want just any girl? They want what’s mine.” He glances over at the girl then back at you. He lowers his voice. “She could save your life.” As sweet as that is, it doesn’t make you feel much better about him putting his cock in another woman.

“Do you really have to?” you plead.

“Where do you want me to put it?” he asks again.

“In me,” you beg. He studies your face.

He looks up at the ceiling contemplatively. “Well either I’m doin’ it, or you’re doin’ it,” he offers.

“I’ll do it,” you say, unsure what that even means. You just know it has to be better than watching or hearing him fuck another girl. If you have to finger her or even give her head, so be it.

Joel looks surprised and impressed. “You’ll do it, then,” he repeats quietly. He unchains you from the radiator and takes the pistol out of his body holster. He holds it by the barrel and hands it to you.

Your face goes cold.

“No,” the girl whimpers, sitting in the corner of the cot with her knees hugged into her chest.

“You heard her,” Joel says. “She’s doin’ it. Right, sweet pea?”

Your hand shakes as you grip the gun. Joel motions for you to go to the other bed.

“You’re sick,” the girl whimpers at Joel. “Shoot him!” she demands of you. “What are you waiting for?? SHOOT HIM!”

Instead, you stand at the end of the cot. “Get back here,” you say weakly, gun still shaking in your hand. “And turn over.”

She shakes her head. You cock the gun.

“Damn,” Joel whispers. She still doesn’t move. She cries.

Joel loses patience and grabs her by the thighs, jerking her to the end of the bed. He pulls her dress up over her ass, clenches his jaw, and spanks her. Then he stands between you and the bed. He spits on his fingers and turns to face you. He keeps his knuckles facing you as he reaches back and slaps her pussy without looking at her. She yelps. He keeps his hand there and rubs her clit while he stares at you with his hard dick in his other hand.

“Go on,” he tells you. “You can do it, sweet pea.”

“You’re both sick,” she whimpers.

You steady the gun in both hands, avoiding the trigger, and bring the muzzle to her wet cunt. She shrieks at the cold ring of metal. Then you grab her hip for leverage and use your dominant hand to carefully push the barrel into her, gently maneuvering it so it doesn’t catch. She groans “No.”

Joel strokes your cheek and looks at you affectionately. Then he gets behind you, with both of you facing the bed. He puts his hands on your hips and presses his hard-on into your dress.

“Go on,” Joel urges and his cock hardens as he pushes it against you.

You begin to slide the gun in and out of her.

Joel brings his mouth to your head. “Good girl,” he whispers and puts his large hands on your hips. He raises your dress, exposing your ass. He pulls down your panties, then puts a hand on the small of your back. You spread your feet more, so relieved and grateful he’s not fucking the other girl. He flattens his fingers and rubs your clit until you’re wet enough. It doesn’t take long.

You’ve slowed down with the pistol, focusing more on the feeling of his hand between your legs. Joel pauses. “Don’t stop,” Joel cautions. “Or I’ll do it myself, and not with the gun.” You start again. He notches the head of his cock at your entrance and waits. You begin railing her steadily with the barrel of the gun. “Good, sweet pea,” he murmurs.

He pushes his tip inside you and you gasp at the stretch, temporarily pausing the rhythm of the gun. Then he puts one hand on your pelvis for leverage and holds a breast with the other. He slams his cock into you, jolting you up and forward, with the momentum slamming the gun harshly into her cunt. She whimpers.

“Sorry,” you whisper to her and try to steady your hand as Joel fucks you. But the last thing you would do is ask him to stop or ease up.

Joel drives his length into you steadily. Your face tenses and your temples feel weak. You’re still jealous and your mind drifts to whether he’s looking at you or the other girl. Or is he just watching you fuck her with his gun. You know he’s an awful man. Face it, it turns him on.

You put it out of your mind and focus on the feeling of being filled by him. His fingers pressing into your skin as his cock impales you, strong but gentle, like him. You can’t help but moan as he fills you up with his flesh. His cock completes you just right. You need him to be all yours.

He switches hands, using his other hand for leverage as he cups your opposite breast. He buries his mouth in your neck and that makes you feel better, your brow softens. He bites you and it feels close enough to a kiss that your heart swells. He sucks your skin, and he moans at the feeling of your nipple hardening into the palm of his hand. He massages your breast and you begin to twitch around his cock. He moans into your neck.

“Sweet pea,” he murmurs. “You feel so good.” Your heart flutters at his words and your lower abdomen buzzes with warmth. “Whore like that could never. No one else could.” With that validation, you fuck her harder with the gun. “That’s it, baby,” Joel whispers, slamming his cruel cock into you. “Just like that.” Your arm gets tired and you switch hands. It’s so tempting to put down the gun, but you don’t want to find out whether he’d really fuck her. You don’t want to disappoint him either, and you don’t want him to stop fucking you.

Joel’s hands slither around your body, and his cock pounds into you harder. “You’re doin’ great, pretty girl.” You feel yourself on the edge of climax. He slams into you with a grunt. “This pussy’s all mine,” he pants. “gonna stay that way.” You lean back into his chest and enjoy the feeling of his body wrapped around yours while you’re wrapped around his cock. He begins to stroke your clit and you moan. He breathes heavier and grunts with each thrust.

He pulls out before either of you come. You sigh at the loss but his fingers gather slick from your dripping cunt then return to your clit and he outdoes himself. He puts his mouth to your ear. “Go ‘head, baby,” and his low whisper makes you see stars.

You moan and tremble and fall into her, plunging the gun deeper.

“Pretty when ya come,” he murmurs and rubs your back while you finish. Then he grabs your ass affectionately and steps to your side; You flinch, your ass is even more sore today.

He slowly pumps his cock and kneels onto the cot with one knee. He takes your hand and makes you take the gun out. She collapses onto the dirty mattress.

“What’d I do wrong?” you ask him.

“You did great, sweet pea. You did perfect,” he says as he gets up on the cot and it creaks under his full weight.

She tries to squirm away and he stops her with a hand on her ass. He’s facing her side and looking at you as he pumps himself. He straddles one of her legs and you whimper. He points his cock at her pussy, then he looks at you again as he strokes himself and comes on her ass. It trickles down her crack to her cunt. You don’t want his cum between her legs, it tugs at your tear ducts, but you’re comforted by his eye contact with you when he came.

He gets off the cot, tucks his dick away, then comfortingly squeezes your shoulder and watches you watch his cum trickle down. “You want it so bad, take it,” he says. He crosses his arms and nods toward her.

It feels like a command. You reach out your hand.

“Nuh-uh. With your mouth, sweet pea.”

You obediently bend at the hips and lean over the cot. Joel pries her legs open for you. You plant your mouth between her legs and lick from her cunt, while trying to strain your eyes to meet Joel’s for approval. “Yeah, get it all, baby.” You drag your tongue up her crack.

You swallow it and he holds out his arms for you. He helps you down from the cot and takes you back over to yours. “You’re gonna stay here for a li’l bit, sweet pea. Keep her company.”

You sniffle. “Do I have to?”

“Yeah, baby. I’ll come back for you later.” He kisses you on the head and makes sure you’re comfortable before he chains you back.

After Joel leaves, you and the other girl are both silent for a while. Then she tries to get through to you, tries to convince you that the two of you can outsmart him together. When pleading doesn’t work, she tries tough love. “I get it,” she says. “You think he cares about you. But he doesn’t. You think he’s faithful to you, just because he owns you.”

“He does care.”

“Well I don’t see your name on his chest. And his dick sure didn’t taste faithful today.”

Any sympathy you had for her evaporates with those words. Even if she’s lying, even if she’s trying to play you.

“Pathetic,” she scoffs. “You don’t even want to be free, do you?”

You’re silent for a minute, then get an idea. “You’re right, I don’t. But if you really want to, I can tell you how.”

You know the guard won’t stay at the door all night. You know the best time and route to get out of the house. If she gets away, good for her. If she gets caught by one of Joel’s men, oh well.

Thank you so, so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys. You will have your man to yourself next time.

if i've left you off please DM me. You can also follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications and you can follow @toxicrecs for my fic recs

#joel miller x reader #dark!Joel Miller #possessive!joel miller #joel miller smut #raider!Joel Miller #joel miller/you #toxicanonymity ☠️#tw: dubcon #raider!joel #raider!joel miller #dark sweet pea

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yujinslovr · 1 year ago

Text

DAY 8 : gp!sakura x fem!reader

(kkuras a virgin but its not explicitly said)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

CW: voyeurism, creampie, degrading, aphrosidiac usage, kkuras highkey a stalker

word count: 1,296

a/n: this is ass

you and sakura had been roommates ever since you two started college, yet despite this you two barely ever spoke beyond the daily hi’s and hello’s. she was usually always locked in her room doing whatever it was she did (you assumed it was gaming) while you also kept to yourself. you would admit you were a bit promiscuous, but you had never heard any complaints from your roommate so you could only assume that you had done a good job at keeping quiet.

sakura knew what you did, she wasn't deaf, your loud screams being heard even through her headphones. what you didn't know was that sakura enjoyed it whenever you brought people over. it started off as pure fascination, she could only wonder what exactly the guy you had brought over was doing so good to evoke such noises. she slightly pushed your room door open and watched through the small crack of where your door was open. seeing what was happening she couldn't help her erection, her body responding before her. she coulda sworn she had seen this same exact scene in one of the filthy hentais she had watched. following what she had watched she unzipped her jeans and fished her cock out through the hole in it. she spat on her hand and started off with a fast pace, beating one out to the sight of you getting fucked. it was like real life porn in sakura’s eyes, she didn't see anything wrong with what she was doing.

and that was how it started. everytime you’d bring someone over sakura would unbeknownst to you be watching and jerk off to the sight of you, wishing that she was the one fucking you.

soon enough, her actions escalated, even going as far as installing spy cameras all around your room so that she’d have a better view while watching you. all the while you stayed none the wiser.

today was one of the unfortunate days in which you didn't bring anyone home, you had too much homework and couldn't afford to go out, seduce someone, and then bring them back to your room. you had spent this whole day buried in assignments, and surprisingly your sweet roommate sakura even made you food! you guessed it was because you hadn't left your room this whole day, and very obviously hadn't eaten. you were surprised when she entered your room, a plate of food in hand as she said she had cooked and asked if you wanted some.

you barely talked to sakura and for her to be offering you food was something way out of the ordinary. despite this being out of the ordinary, you happily accepted the food with a smile and a bit excitedly. maybe you two could finally get closer!

while you were copying down notes onto a piece of paper you suddenly felt heat spreading throughout your body but mainly downwards. your eyebrows furrowed at the unexpected and sudden horniess you were feeling. you tried to ignore the growing stickiness between your thighs but it proved almost impossible. today was supposed to be a study day but now you couldn't get your mind off of sex. you decided to take a quick break and calm yourself down so that you could focus better on your homework. deciding to close your laptop and go to lay down on your bed, slowly lowering your sweatpants and underwear.

sakura was sat in her room, her attention focused on the live footage of you playing on her monitor screen. she had been watching you for a while now, just observing your actions and wondering when the aphrodisiac she had soaked your food in would kick in. as was seen now in the footage, she figured it had finally kicked in. sakura had this whole thing planned out for so long, not finding the courage nor a chance to do this before. but today when she checked her cameras and saw that you had your hair up in a messy bun and had your cute reading glasses rested on your nose she knew that today would be her only chance. you rarely had these ‘study days’ and she was for sure not gonna chicken out this time. she had made up her mind.

her plan was that she was going to ‘accidently’ walk in on you masturbating and then boom you two would have sex. if it was anyone else she knew she wouldn't have a chance but you let practically anyone in you so she knew this wouldn't be hard.

when your moans got loud enough for sakura to hear them over her headphones she decided it was either now or never. she turned off her pc and walked over to your room, gently knocking on the door and cracking it open and sticking her head through. “hey y/n, i heard a lot of noises and i was just wondering if you were-” sakura cut herself off as she feigned shock.

the sight of you being naked with three fingers shoved into your dripping cunt was what sakura had ‘surprisingly’ walked into. her mouth gaped open as she trailed her eyes along your sweaty figure, you on the other hand were too lost in your pleasure, you couldn't stop. you made eye contact with her as you fucked yourself, the embarassment of this situation not dawning on your horny brain. sakura could feel the throbbing erection that was now growing in her pants. the way you moaned while staring her dead in the eyes was doing nothing but turning her on. she lowered her pants to her ankles and took the silent invitation your eyes held. she gave her cock a few messy strokes before positioning herself at your entrance, she reached down and picked up your hand that was previously inside of you and brought it up to her mouth to taste you. as soon as she wrapped her mouth around your fingers she quickly bottomed out into you.

your loud scream of her name did nothing but encourage her to go faster and rougher. she dropped your hand and put both of her hands next to your head as she started her impossibly fast pace. you were extremely wet and for some reason so horny to the point where her massive cock stretching your insides caused nothing but pleasure.

“fuckin’ whore, how many cocks have you even taken in this slutty pussy of yours?”

her raspy voice in your ear caused more moans to leave your throat, the degradation turning you on more.

“‘m surprised you're not gaping with how many people you’ve let into your used fuckin’ pussy.”

sakura had her head leaned on the bed next to yours as she panted out the words directly into your ear.

“‘m gna fuck you so good you wont want anyone in this whore pussy ‘sept me”

you couldn’t even respond to her, the only thing coming out of your mouth being chants of her name. “can't wait to fill you up ‘n see my cum leakin’ out of you.” her filthy words being the last push you needed to fall over the edge, a high pitch scream of her name leaving your throat. she kept up the same pace all throughout your orgasm and only when the last bits of your orgasm faded was when she finally came, the tip of her cock touching the deepest parts of you as she released her hot sticky semen into you. sakura pulled out and collapsed next to you, you could feel her cum dripping down and out of you. you looked beside you to see sakura passed out and let out a small chuckle.

that's one way of getting closer to her.

#smut #sakura #miyawaki sakura #gp!sakura #sakura smut #sakura miyawaki x reader #sakura x reader #kinktober #g!p #girl group #le sserafim #le sserafim smut #izone #izone x reader #izone smut #le sserafim x reader #kpop gg #yujinslovr #sakura miyawaki

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diddleydang · 10 months ago

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Absolutely

They say multiple times throughout the stream that people had been trying to figure out what to do with the energy behind left YouTube that can actually effect change. Harry bomberguy accidently/inadvertently found a way.

I'm watching the stream for the first time and I wasn't expecting how sweet and genuine it is. In a time when we are all feeling so isolated, there was a real sense of community there.

The beginning of the stream's a little rough as Harry didn't know what he was getting into, didn't plan, and didn't fully understand the subject and impact this stream would come to have. Plus there's not many Trans (at the time) guests on in the first bit, but that dramatically changes about halfway through. Hearing cis allies bow outta the call so a Trans person could come on was so sweet. Literally making space lmao

If you liked how he made a playlist of queer YouTubers in his Plagerism video, you're gonna love the many times more Trans artists he had on the stream

Happy five year anniversary HBomberGuy Speed Runs Donkey Kong 64 and Raised Over $340,000 for Trans Charity Mermaids day

#hbomberguy #ya i know his last name is brewis #idk ive been very lonely for a while. as many people have #and ive never been able to find a trans community yet so watching the stream and seeing it all happen #including chat which i think is the most important part of the whole thing #a cool thing that did a lot of good ya know #the “you” in this is general btw not abt the person i rebliged this from #and yeah theres definitkey things that coulda been better but thats good

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tomahachi12 · 2 months ago

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OHHH I GOT HERE JUST IN TIME. i literally JUST came to check if youd posted anything new!

do you mind if i yoink the robo-miscarriage idea from you. with credit of course if i ever post anything public with it!! its just such a.... funs not the right word but interesting take on it that khan and nori may have had issues because the solver fucked with her so bad and her brain got scrambled.

ouchie wowchie, also. youve always been so so good at potraying emotions. i'm genuinely so over the moon you're making MD art. poor nori :( thank you so much for the khori food, there's so little content of them which makes me so sad!!!

I’m very sporadic with posting, and I think I remember you from my spinel-times, so I really appreciate you sticking around 💜

Just knowing that some people actually look forward to seeing my art, and my weird humor, helps with motivation and makes me want to keep creating more.

It’s a feeling I haven’t had in a while, ever since I stopped doing the spinel things.

Thank you for that 💜

—

I don’t mind at all if you use the idea

It adds more to the world-building, which is one of my favorite things to do.

I feel like it can happen with any of the drones when they try to activate a baby. It’s rare, but there’s still that chance. Nori (and Yeva) would be more susceptible to a failure because of their messed up code.

Another concept I was gonna explore, was the idea of twins.

How would twins work out in this universe?

We’ll just have to wait and see 👀

—

Fun fact (or maybe future AU idea hmmmmmmm?)

IF Nori and Khan were actually successful with their first few attempts, Uzi would of had an older brother and two older (twin) sisters.

Doll was Yeva’s first, but they couldn’t get any more to activate after. Doll would of had a (much) younger brother.

—

Thank you~

Emotions are a very important, yet extremely difficult thing to portray, especially in art.

I use an old animator’s trick of straight up making the face that I’m trying to draw.

I make a lot of funny faces while drawing lol

—

I do wish we coulda seen more of Nori and Yeva in the show, but I understand the direction with a limited series.

GUESS IM JUST GONNA HAVE TO MAKE IT MYSELF

#sorry for answering so late #I passed tf out after posting the comic #lol #shut up toma

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foodtruckery · 15 days ago

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(Abo anon again) (if I'm getting annoying just lmk I'll stop lmfao) I know weve established ford is an obsessed little maniac over stanley but I'm curious what about STAN? Is he fantasizing about his brother in the same way ford was? WAS he thinking about ford when he first presented and hating himself for it? While ford is in the basement fantasizing about dominating stan, stan is upstairs doing the same thing. Wondering how ford would react if his omega brother put him in his place?

Or is this something thats never really crossed stans mind? Is stan just so desperate for his brothers affection and attention after all these years that yknow what? If THIS is how ford needs to love him hell go with it. Stans morals are skewed to all hell and living through an apocalypse, getting your mind wiped kind of puts things like "incest is morally bad" on the backburner. sure he can fuck ford sometimes it really doesnt matter to him how he shows his love

I don't even know what I'm saying anymore I'm just rambling at this point lmfao

you're not annoying at all, anon, i love these!! but yes yes i am following your vision. i was born to understand you. it was killing me that i had to be productive yesterday and didn't have time to sit down with this! that's probably why i, yet again, got WELL AWAY FROM MYSELF and have put a cut below to save your dashboards. as a warning, this is longer than the ford answer.

cause gosh it's SUCH a good question. i think stan has Complicated Feelings about all of it. and i also think that while ford tells himself he's separate from the secondary gender expectations and bullshit, stan is the one who actually IS. or he's at least a lot more self aware of it all. ford packed up all his internalizations and took them into the multiverse and never really had to address any of it whereas stan has run the gamut on primary AND secondary identities and has a much better grasp on and them and himself in the grand scheme of things (no pun intended) because of it.

i think when stan finally presented, that was the first time his more-than-brotherly-love feelings for ford were put front and center in his head. like it may have been something he was vaguely aware of, but he'd never given it much attention (becaue if you ignore it it'll go away right?). but then going into heat for the first time??

yeah, by then he and ford are pretty newly separated from each other, and a lot of the hurt is still really fresh, BUT. ford is also one of the only alphas stan has ANY positive associations with at this point in his life, putting their last interactions aside. and he definitely tells himself that's the only reason why he spends most of his heat thinking about him. that's biology right?? going into heat and obsessing over alpha dick or whatever.

but then, for better or worse, stan doesn't really have a lot of time to dwell on all that anyway. cause he definitely spent at least some time on his own as a beta first, started getting a rough idea of what it meant, how to make it work, what was dangerous. but after presenting??? turns out there's a pretty noticeable difference between making due as a homeless beta teenager vs a homeless omega teenager that starts making itself known REAL FAST.

so stan has to figure some shit out, fast, and daydreaming about any coulda woulda shouldas -- if he'd presented earlier, or hadn't fucked up so bad, or had been given a real shot at defending himself? well that kinda shit just hurts more than it helps, so he doesn't think about it and instead focuses on taking care of himself. cause nobody else is gonna do it, and he learns the hard way not to trust anyone who claims they will.

in the ensuing years, while stan is shilling snakeoil products and jumping state lines, most of that is still from conning folks. but he definitely skipped town more than once for being caught out as an omega when he runs into trouble getting a hold of the right meds. and sure, he has good reason to do it after the shit he's dealt with and done, the threat that comes with being a vulnerable person already and adding that degree of additional vulnerability on top of it.

but i do also like to think that at least once, the omega thing drives him out of town for a different reason. like maybe reconnecting with carla mccorkle or meeting and starting something that might actually be nice with jimmy snakes. point is, stan does find a little bit of honest to god comfort with another person who isn't paying him to there or threatening to break his kneecaps. and he definitely never considers the words "settling down" but he maybe isn't planning how he's gonna get outta dodge yet, so that's something, right?

but then he either lapses in his meds or they get found, and sure, maybe there's a fight that follows or something that leads to him leaving. but i think it's more likely that stan doesn't stick around to face the music at all. he finds out that they found out, and they're either gonna kick him out or they're gonna start expecting shit from him, right? so he gets ahead of it and makes himself scarce. it's a lot easier to disappoint people at this point than to keep letting himself be disappointed.

he probably does a decent job of holding on to that mentality for a long time, too. especially after settling into gravity falls and getting enough stability in his life that even when there are mishaps, he's really fucking good at managing them. bad reaction to a batch of suppressants and kicked into an unexpected heat? he can shut down the shack for a few days and play sick -- something mundane but contagious to his employees and something fantastical to drive sales to the schmucks paying his bills for when he gets back. and if the idea of closing up shop completely raises too many eyebrows? he can claim he's going out of town for a few days and just lock himself up in the industrial basement nobody knows about and ride things out.

(he only lets that happen once. cause it turns out that being out of your skull on fuck-me hormones in the room where you last saw, fought, and banished your brother into a sci-fi monstrosity does some really weird shit to the who and what you're fantasizing about. also, getting slick all over the fucking journal you need to get said brother back runs too close of a risk to ruining the thing in the worst way possible, so never again.)

and it's so damn easy to play the part of alpha that nobody thinks twice to question him anyway. yeah, the town knows he's a fraud in a lot of ways, but that's part of the whole mr. mystery thing. and let's be honest, his shack is one of the only things that actually drums up tourism in the area, and those tourists have to eat somewhere, have to sleep somewhere. so okay, stan pines is a fraud, but he's kinda gravity fall's fraud, an important part of their weird little economic ecosystem. so all that loud, cocksure, 'i will steal this right in front of you and come back tomorrow like i didn't,' attitude -- that has alpha written all over it to the townspeople anyway.

course, then ford does get back - he brings ford back - and stan gets to be reminded all over again about the whole 'people will disappoint you' thing. but i think he's pushed so much of that childhood fantasy and heat in the basement fantasy nonesense down and has gone so long without actually giving a shit about having to "prove" the alpha role, that he probably isn't thinking about any of it the same way ford is. i imagine that despite the way he acts, stan is actually pretty careful about who he fucks since taking over ford's identity, just in case. the less opportunity he has to slip up or get found out, the better after all. so while ford is hate fucking his fist, stan is trying to figure out how easily he can move and maintain his connections and trying not to spiral over any of that.

after everything is over, stan probably does consider keeping up appearances. but the logistics of it are too damn complicated, and at the end of the day, who gives a shit now? he's not living out of his car, trying to make himself as unappealing of a future victim as possible anymore. he isn't impersonating a known alpha and making sure no prejudiced hack thinks to look twice at the "successful small business owner" thing anymore. hell! he doubts he can even go into heat at this age anymore, so other than a little scent change, the only real difference is that he won't have to worry about juggling and sourcing the meds anymore.

yeah, he should probably have said something to ford about it, but it wasn't supposed to be a big deal. it was supposed to be something ford brings up after all the meds have cycled out of his system and all his clothes have been through enough washes to stop masking what's different. just a casual hey, stan smells different maybe, what's that all about? and oh yeah, i wasn't actually an alpha, how funny is that? end of story.

the going into heat thing was not supposed to happen. and it hasn't happened for so long that he doesn't even realize it is happening until it's way too late to do anything about it. at this point, stan isn't even entirely sure how long it's been since he actually fucked anybody, and almost never while in heat. so it's...a lot, to say the least.

not just the being bombarded with omega bullshit after suppressing it so hard for so long, either. that in and of itself is overwhelming. like, jesus, had it always been this fucking wet? and holy moses, has ford always smelled like that? and oh right the deeply suppressed ford thing.

they definitely don't have time to talk any of this out before it happens. but it's supposed to go by faster with a partner, right? they're trapped on a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean - stan really can't afford to be out of commission that long. and ford at least doesn't seem like he'd rather take his chances finding shore with a lifesaver when stan points all of this out. it's probably the dimension hopping shit, right? maybe having to fuck your twin brother through a biological meltdown isn't all that big of a deal to him compared to whatever else he's seen. it also means that stan doesn't have to actually bring up any of that shit he's refused to admit thinking thinking about on the rare occassions he has been dragged down into a heat.

basically a win-win!

but yeah, he's definitely going to avoid the hell out of ford as best he can on said tiny ass boat after this. also refuse to talk about it, because fuck no, there's nothing tjo talk about. they just need to make port sooner than later so he can get his hands on suppressants again and they can pretend this never happened at all.

#ford unsurprisingly refuses to let it go #they eventually figure it out cause i like to end things on a positive note #but sixerstanley's suggestion that they might both think the other is only going through with it cause they have to?#ugh that's too good to pass up #i'm totally normal about all of this OBVIOUSLY #stancest #pretend my ask tag is cute #stancest a/b/o au

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