#aside from receiving her heart anyway

[yikeshereiam]

why is everyone so attached to tara raeken??? there’s two whole other characters we actually saw theo murder with our own eyes and tara is who we're stuck on????

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and psycho. This part- light angst, explicit sex, oral ( f receiving) breed kink (it's me so lol) mating press, multi rounds, honestly cute, sweet and fucking emotional!!! WC - 10k

A/N- THE HAPPY END IS HERE! Sooo the beginning 4k words or so are VERY similar to the angst end, but don't skip them because I put a lot of little nuances and deviations! I hope you enjoy the happy ending and the complete end of this fic <3 I'd love to hear thoughts!!

<<<Part five (Sad end) - Playlist - Masterlist

Happy Ending (Sugu/Reader end!)

Suguru lifts you up into his arms, as tired students and sorcerers retreat tentatively, Suguru’s curses dissolve as if they weren’t there while all he can focus on is you, the guilt eating at his heart. Your unconscious body lolls in his arms as Suguru is speaking to his cult quickly, ordering them to stop and retreat for now, all while holding you so tightly against his chest.

Satoru waits for Suguru, staring at your face now, looking so oddly peaceful for what happened, he wanted to pick you up and bring you to Shoko, but Suguru had snatched you up so quickly he had no chance to. Suguru is carrying you around and murmuring his soft orders, not letting you leave his grip.

Satoru had a feeling this would happen, and he hates himself for knowing it and bringing you anyway, but you were okay with it - willing even - to save everyone, he admires it about a girl he hardly knows. To put yourself and a baby in danger to reach out to Suguru, it shows just who you are, it’s easy to see how much Suguru has fallen, when Satoru never thought Suguru never would feel that way again.

Suguru finally walks up, glaring at Satoru when he brushes back a lock of hair from your brow, itching to smack his hand off. “Don’t touch my wife.” Suguru’s words are husky, through his teeth, as Satoru’s blue eyes dart back to his, raising a white brow.

“You’ve really done such a great job taking care of her so far. Why don’t I carry her, I don’t trust you not to disappear, and Shoko is the only one I trust helping her.”

“Tch, you think I don’t even want to help her!?”

“Why? You left her.” Suguru snatches you up closer against his chest, violet eyes glaring now at Satoru, and you hang so limply he feels sick, like you’re just nothing in his arms, barely any signs of life aside from soft breaths.

“You won’t hold my wife in your fucking arms.” 

“Fine, then follow, now.”

Suguru never thought he’d listen to Satoru, but he does, following him now into Shoko’s medical set up, her brows raise as she sees Suguru for the first time in almost nine years, he notices how exhausted she is, all of the fun energy he remembers sapped away. He falters a moment, before carrying you inside, Satoru shuts the heavy door with an echoing bang.

“What’s happened?” Suguru delicately lays your unconscious frame, as Shoko sets to feeling your pulse.

“Energy blast from… one of my men.” Suguru gulps down it all, the fact that it’s even worse, that you were hurt by one of his by mistake.

He wants to kill that man right now.

But Satoru is fucking right - it’s all him.

“She’s pregnant.” Satoru mentions, as if it were so casual, and Suguru glares over at him. “Isn’t she?”

“Yes she is but it’s not your place to fucking say.” Satoru smiles just a bit, something about seeing his friend actually fucking caring about something for once, even if his ire is directed at him right now. Suguru looks at Shoko now, swallowing nervously as he speaks. “She is pregnant.”

Shoko sighs now, nodding and assessing you carefully. “Can’t be far along, she’s not showing.”

“Five weeks.” Suguru answers, quietly, as Shoko raises her hands now, and shuts her eyes, dark hair falling a bit over her shoulders.

“I can’t guarantee the baby will be okay, but I can save her.” Suguru’s heart shatters at her words, looking as the reverse curse technique starts working over you with the incandescent light.

“It’s all your fault. Why’d you fucking bring her here!?” Suguru walks up to Satoru now, smacking a hand as he brushes your hair a bit off your sleeping face, earning a glare behind white bandages.

“She asked to come.”

Suguru pauses. Are you that reckless?

“I told her no at first, but I thought she’d be the only thing to bring you to any of your fucking senses, have you stop killing my students, our friends.”

“I don’t have any fucking friends.”

Shoko scoffs, eyeing him with tired eyes now. “You did.”

“It’s not you all I wanted to eliminate, you simply chose to defend them, the weak,  pathetic…” He can’t say it anymore, what he called them, what he called you.

“Weren’t you the one who said it’s our job to protect the weak?” Satoru’s voice is quiet now, reminding him of just that, the time he felt that way, naive and young.

“You continue to lose all your comrades and friends, Satoru you may be the strongest but it’s not worth it - without them, there are no more curses.”

“It’s not your choice to change how the world is. You’ve gone so far, the only person I’ve ever seen you love since you… changed… is here.” Satoru’s words nearly make him fall over with the pain, the grief, looking at your still unconscious body, as Shoko focuses harder with her technique, the glow soft around you, hovering right over your tummy where a baby exists.

“Please just save her.” Suguru whispers now, and Satoru slips off his blindfold completely, blue eyes seeing right through him.

“You did this. If she doesn’t make it, it’s because of you.”

“I fucking know that!” Suguru shoves Satoru now, which merely earns a tired, sad little smile, while he grips his wrist before he lets Suguru strike him. “I know it, okay? I don’t even… fucking deserve her. I know it.” He’s close to tears as he shoves off Satoru, covering his face before he looks back at you.

It’s gone too far, god it’s all gone too far, hasn’t it?

How can he live with himself after what he’s done to you. He places a hand on yours, you don’t grip it how could you, limp and weak fingers, exhausted face growing just a little brighter. You’re exhausted from him, from the stress - god he left you in his bed, alone, naked and gleaming from your lovemaking.

Lovemaking, it was lovemaking.

You were his everything, and not once did he let you get treated or shown that way, what was just one time of worshipping your body when he didn’t worship or appreciate your soul? Your mind, your wishes, he barely knew you truly - he never gave you a chance to listen. Why couldn’t he just give you a chance, why couldn’t he be there for you!?

He hates himself.

He was going to kill them all, every single human for a better world, but to lose the only important thing to him, you, in a room with two people who loved him once, who cared for him once, and he never deserved any of it. Of your body, of your heart, didn’t deserve any kindness that you - rarely - bestowed upon him, your sweet pleas nor your desperate cries for more of him.

Now that he sees you, and it’s been a good twenty minutes, he’s pacing, his stomach sick and turning, his mind a tumultuous storm of moments where it all changed. Of moments where everything shifted, the life and family he thought he built all lost to a girl, who slapped him, who cursed him, who overtook his heart.

You.

“It’s not working.” He says after more time passes with no sign of anything from you in the quiet room, worried as Shoko sighs, shaking her head.

“I need more time with her, okay? Her body is already in a rough state.”

“What rough state!?”

“She has a weak will, and she needs to have some will to make it through this.” Suguru can’t stand to look then, turning away, his robes still dripping the blood of others, as the woman he loves is unconscious.

A weak will, because of him, he fucking knows it too- it’s all him that did this, that caused it, he wants to blame Satoru for putting you in danger, but it’s ultimately his fault. You begged him to stay despite having been forced into this, despite the horrible things he said and did to you, despite it all you still asked him. You still tried to break through, almost meeting your end.

You awaken suddenly as he contemplates it, with a startled gasp, sitting up, staring at an unfamiliar but pretty face of a woman in scrubs, a stethoscope around her neck. She smiles gently, you feel two men’s hands on you, Satoru’s holding one hand, Suguru the other, both staring up at you now.

“I’m sorry I put you in harm.” Satoru’s words are full of remorse, one of his blue eyes revealed is staring up at you, glimmering. “It was the only way but…”

“It’s okay. I chose to, it was the right thing.” He exhales in relief, as you look at Suguru now, torn between anger, relief and fear… and more, so much more brimming to the surface. “Suguru…”

“I ended the battle.” It’s all relief now, as you clutch him tightly, and all the love in your eyes makes him even more sick, how could you love him?

“It worked.” Your whisper makes him squeeze you so tightly you can’t breathe, before pulling back, glaring down at you.

“It was foolish, reckless-”

“You are not about to lecture her right now on being reckless.” Suguru scowls at Satoru’s words.

“Let’s talk while Shoko checks her out.” Suguru’s words are surprisingly soft, a way you’ve only heard a couple times, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Suguru…”

“Just a minute.” You nod, but something is tugging at your heart.

Satoru and Suguru walk to the other end of the enormous room, footsteps echoing while Shoko murmurs softly. “I’m Ieri.”

“Thank you for… saving me, Ieri.” Your own quiet name makes her smile a bit, as she looks at Satoru and Suguru. “They were your friends, weren’t they?”

“Hmm, I guess they were. Let me check this heart rate, okay?” You nod, eyeing the two quiet men, as your disoriented mind and sore body process what exactly had happened.

“I know you owe me no favors, Satoru… but can I ask for one?” Satoru frowns now, leaning against the wall, as you sit up with Shoko’s help and speak quietly.

“You stopped the attack, if you’re willing to give this up, I’ll do you any favor.” He says, making Suguru sigh.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve Satoru.

He deserves no happiness for what he’s done, the horror in your eyes, the fear of the unknown, the baby just barely growing that surely would not survive with him near you. You look at him across the room, with those sad, broken eyes - he’d never made you happy, not once - yet you truly tried. You begged him to fucking stay and what did he do, what did he cause?

“I am taking Mimiko and Nanako far away.” Satoru’s blue eyes widen now.

“And your wife, yes?

Suguru feels sick as he shakes his head. “No.”

“Suguru, are you fucking serious, what more does the girl have to do to be with you!? She almost died to save you, not just everyone.” Satoru’s voice is a hushed whisper, eyes narrowed.

“That’s just it, I’m no good for her, or the baby if it… makes it. Chances are with me and how devastated I make her, it won't.”

“Suguru, she will forgive you.” Satoru puts a hand on his former best friend’s shoulder, coated in blood, and Suguru doesn’t shove it off, he takes a breath instead, shaking his head.

“She will, and so will you, but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her and I never did.”

“So become the man she needs, you’re not too-”

Suguru laughs harshly, taking Satoru’s hand off now, holding it for a moment, a million memories of their friendship falling as his hand falls. “Both of you make excuses, but I see what I did to her.”

“She’ll be okay, Shoko-”

“She’ll never be okay. Satoru, I have to ask you…” Satoru shakes his head again, and eyes you now.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking run, seriously!?” Suguru yanks him out of the room, out of your earshot now, Satoru crosses his arms, as the door echoes in the cold empty halls of the abandoned building they’d shielded Shoko in.

“Take care of her.” At Suguru’s broken words, tears feeling once cold eyes, Satoru falters, lips parting. “Take care of the baby if it… makes it.”

He glares, shoving at his old friend, who’s too down to not let him budge with the movement, forlorn look on his face. “You take care of them, become better.”

Suguru shakes his head. “I can’t face her. I can’t face what I’ve done, I need to go. Far, far away.”

“For how long!?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I know it’s a lot to ask - but I also know I can trust you to take care of her.” Satoru’s furious, not at the thought of taking care of you, but the fact that Suguru is running, that he still even now can’t accept love. “You will take care of her better than I could.”

“You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. She chose to come here, can’t you give her a chance?” Suguru peers through the door window, the thick pane of glass, sighing and touching it longingly, while Shoko checks your vitals. “Your family is in that fucking room.”

“I know, fuck… but she has a chance to be happy, to have that baby - the way it’s going? She won’t even get to with me. Please, for the friendship we had, take care of her. The girl I love.” Satoru’s own emotions make his throat close, while Suguru realizes just how deeply he loves you, more than he even could admit. But he didn’t choose you, no matter how deeply you begged him to, no he left you alone in that bed.

He can’t forgive himself for it.

He is not sure he cares about any other casualties, he wishes he did care more for that - he still sees humans as pests, he does not share Satoru’s view and maybe never will. But you so clearly need him to, and he realizes he’s too far in his own hatred still, you were that exception, that bright spot. You were the one regret he now holds, and he knows he loves you enough to let you go.

“Please look after her for me, Satoru.”

“Jesus christ, Suguru.” He swipes a hand through his long white hair, looking at you in that room, sighing. “Of course I will take care of her and the baby. But it should not be me.”

“Thank you.” Suguru puts his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, and for a moment Satoru sees him - the best friend he ever had, making what he thinks is the best decision for a girl he loves. He loves and feels, still deep down, and something breaks Satoru down then. “I went too far.”

He scoffs at that, sighing. “Understatement of the century. I will not tell her goodbye for you, though. You need to at least explain your stupid decision.”

Satoru walks back into the room, looking down at you now, you’re weak but alive, and he still senses two energies with his powerful six eyes. He gently holds out his hands, and you take them, using his help to stand, shaky now. “Are you feeling okay, sweets?”

“I’m okay.” You nod a smile just a bit, turning to Shoko. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. We’ll… give you two a moment.” She reads the room clearly, Satoru and Shoko have known each other so long it really just takes a look.

You watch curiously as they walk out, and Suguru has tears in his violet eyes, something you never thought you’d see, they glimmer and illuminate, his face so serious and sullen it makes you panic. “Did they say the baby-”

“No, no, for now it all looks fine. Shh.” He pulls you against his strong chest, and you fall apart, sobbing now, shaking your head and shoving at him, hating the mix of comfort and sorrow this man brings. “I know,” he whispers, as if to soothe you, only for you to be infuriated, feeling anger hot coursing through your veins.

You pull back, furious, chest heaving with the quickness of your breaths, your own cheeks covered in your tears now. “You know!? You know? You left me. You chose this over me.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m no good for you.” His broken voice and tired gaze stall you, not after all of this would he not fucking choose you again!? Not after carving his place in your heart entirely does he get to leave!?

You pause now, gasping at his audacity, feeling him tense, emotionally pulling away from you again. “What the fuck are you on about right now?”

Instead of the usual arguments, the back and forth, Suguru is just contemplative, listening to you before he speaks. “It was selfish, so selfish not to let you run when you wanted to.” You’re shaking as he cups your face, thumb tracing your cheek, brushing aside the onslaught of tears, exhaling and leaning low.

“So you’re selfish, what’s new?” Your angry whisper just makes him ache for you, god is there one moment he doesn’t? Is there one second in any universe he thinks he will live without you - he wants to do the right thing now, to let you go, but how can he, when you’re so deeply ingrained inside his fucking soul?

The one bright spot that he almost took out completely clings to him, and why should you?

 “I almost killed you.” He whispers hoarsely, you shake your head now, scowl firm on your tired, beautiful features.

“You didn’t just almost kill me, you almost killed everyone in the fucking city! Suguru, I’m fine, this is not even what you should be worried about.”

“Tch, are you!?” His grip on your waist draws you closer, while your head falls back, and you stare into a monster’s eyes - a monster you love. “Are you fine? You almost died.”

“I chose to come here, you can’t blame Satoru when I begged him to bring me. I had to try to save them, those innocent people!”

“It worked.”

You sigh, shaking further, burying your face against his chest, he’s covered in sweat and grime and blood from the battle, but you don’t care. “Are you done with this foolish effort?”

“I’m done.” You look up in shock, cupping his face now, and he leans so low, until your breaths mingle, hand shaking as it holds you.

“Thank God. Oh Suguru, thank God.” You pull him down for a kiss, full of all the relief in your heart. You’ve saved him, everyone is okay - glimpses of hope and something beautiful fill you with a light you’ve never had. He kisses you back so deeply, exhaling against your lips, deepening it and pulling you so tightly, his hard body enveloping yours.

“I should have told you.” He whispers, pulling back, lips almost against yours, nose brushing against yours.

You gulp, throat dry, in so much fear of what he’s going to say, what he’s going to do, his voice terrifying you in its intensity. “Told me what?”

Suguru cups your face with one hand, heart pounding as he feels it, so deep in his soul, finally ready to spill those words. “I love you,” you gasp then, and his heart hammers nearly out of his chest as the declaration spills from his lips. “Fuck I love you, love when you hit me, love when you called me out, love the fire inside you.”

His declaration makes your heart shatter, you want to be happy, but you feel it - his apprehension, his fear, his love.

Loves you.

He loves you.

“Suguru…”

“I love you and don't deserve you.” His broken voice and tears infuriate you as much as they deeply touch you.

You glare now, trying to hold it together, when you feel like shattering. “Don’t you dare do this, don’t you run!”

“Baby, this is how I can show how much I love you.” He cups your face with two big hands and long fingers, you’re glaring through your tears, gripping his wrists.

“Don’t you dare.” You whisper, teeth clenched, you feel it then, you feel him pushing you away, when he’s just close enough. “I won’t forgive you ever.”

“Satoru will take care of you both, better than I could, he’ll be good to you-” The shock of his words hits you like a wave, like what knocked you to the fucking floor earlier, the dread in your stomach.

“What!? You’re shoving me off on your fucking friend?” You shove at his chest now, but he doesn’t budge, even as you smack at it, he doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of his grip. “If you love me you’ll run away with me, we can start over.”

The desperation in your voice tempts him to no end, god he’d love it, but he knows how much you’d suffer, always. “I am leaving, starting over.”

“Not with me?” Your hurt pours through every word, and Suguru wants to bring you, god he does, but he knows it so clearly - he could never make you happy, but he sees it - how Satoru looks at you. Maybe he could give you what you deserve, as much as he selfishly wants you, as badly as this hurts to do or say.

“You’ll be better off this way. You and the baby.”

“Bullshit, it’s such bullshit Suguru!”

“It’s the truth, I love you enough to finally do this.” He brushes your hair back tenderly, you smack his hand scowling up at him.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to abandon me after not choosing me - just to not choose me again!”

“It’s not that,” your sobs wrack your body, as he steps back, brushing back his tangled dark locks in frustration, the thick strands falling across his face as he watches the girl he loves shatter because of him, all over again. “I am choosing your happiness.”

“Why can’t it be with you?” Your broken whisper makes his heart break.

“How can I look you in those beautiful eyes and know what pain I caused, I can’t have you looking at the monster I am.”

“You’re my fucking monster, okay? Mine!” You shove him again, he just sighs, defeated. “I love you Suguru Geto. I do, despite it all, despite how completely fucked in the brain you were, I love you dammit. You can’t just leave me now, like I’m some damn pet you can’t take care of. I love-”

He’s slammed his lips again, desperate and hungry, and you fall into him, as his kisses grow more and more ardent, pulling back just to take a breath, hand slipping up your spine. The contact alone makes you shiver, tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, so much emotion in this one kiss you wish it would last forever, fingers clinging to the silk of his robes.

“Suguru,” you pull back, tears falling against his fingers, breaths making your chest rise and fall, as you cling to his robes, the blood soaking against your skin, enveloping it in red. “You’re mine, you don’t get to leave me.”

He whispers your name then, his own tears falling, against your lips salty as he hovers over you, exhaling shakily. “I don’t deserve you though, you or this baby, not after what I did to you.”

“Then you’ll earn it, you’ll earn the right of me standing by your side. You’ll become better, I know it, fuck I do. There’s more to you.” Your foreheads touch, while he finally breaks down then, picking you up in his arms now, your lips are angry, hungry, tugging with your teeth as he nips you with his. Your tongues messy and desperate while you drink each others’ cries in, echoing in the quiet room.

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t…” His whispers break you, a broken man declaring them hot against your throat, as he breaks down for you, and you bury your face against his neck, letting him hold you up like it’s nothing, clinging to him then. Feeling every bit of your soul drawn to him, despite it all.

“I need you goddammit, you don’t get to leave me. Us. I’ll beat the fuck out of you if you try, it’s not even funny you psycho.” He exhales, easing you down then, you’re dizzy with desire, with need, thrumming through every inch of your skin, as he leans back, eyeing you under lashes dripping with tears.

“How can you love somebody like me?” His broken whisper destroys any resolve you have left, you know all he has done to you, you can only imagine what he has done to others, but deep down you know one thing to be true-

You do love him.

“I just do, there’s no reason for it, there’s no reason for any human emotion, Suguru Geto. We just feel.” Your tremulous smile, amidst everything he’s done breaks him down, bit by bit, as his heart pounds for you, as his body aches for you, thoughts of ‘what ifs’ flowing through his mind.

What if he did let Satoru care for you?

What if he just left you now?

What if you fell in love, what if you moved on, and were so happy, and got everything he ‘thinks’ you deserved, leaving him alone forever - because he knows damn well he will never want or be with anyone else ever again. What if he had let you go, and had not gotten to see you again, hold you again, kiss your lips? Have you under him, on him, have you?

He almost just did that, one choice and he was going to push you away, when all you wanted was to be let in. He takes a deep breath, an arm wrapped tight around you, bringing you firm against his chest. “I don’t know if I can learn to live with humans, aside from you. I don’t know if I can lose all this hatred.”

“Then we’ll go, we’ll go away. And we’ll try, every day. Okay?” He nods then, you exhale and kiss him once more, the kiss is so different than any before, deeper than either of you have had, while he drinks it in, the girl he doesn’t deserve, the life he’s not sure he should get to have, because you love him.

Does he deserve that love, finally?

“You deserve love.” Your words speak to the questions stirring in his soul, and for the first time in so long, Suguru is crying, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tries to pull it together, holding you in a bruising grip as he just cries then.

Suguru crying.

He has not felt emotions since long ago in Jujutsu high, when he watched his loved ones die, when he lost faith in everything he knew, something he thought died that day glimmers and breaks free. The girl in his arms that he treated horribly who for some odd reason loves him, then he knows - he can’t keep going like this, he has to give everything for you.

“I’ll try, Princess.” His soft tone breaks you down further, so upset in your wracking sobs he pulls back a bit, swiping them off your cheeks with one hand, the other bringing you against his chest. “Calm down, please… take a breath.”

“You really stress a girl the fuck out.” He chuckles a bit, earning a punch from your little balled up fist while you sniffle. “You don’t get to laugh about it.”

“I know, I know.” He brushes your hair back gently, studying a face of a girl that’s been hurt too much, too deeply, but the joy of hearing you say it all overwhelms his senses. He sighs again, tilting your chin up, studying your swollen lips carefully, a thumb brushing across the thin and bitten flesh. “You really want to be with me? I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want your ‘out’. I want you, the real you too, not this bullshit cult leader crap. I want the boy who Satoru has fought so hard to get back, I want the boy I met, he’s in there, okay?” He looks away then, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if he is in there.”

“He is, and you know it.”

He wants to believe you, but he finds he’s selfish for not leaving you in that moment, for instead picking you up gently in his arms, bridal style - remembering that first night with you. The first time he touched you, and he knew how deeply he felt, that he assumed you must have powers, but you did in fact have them, they were just different than anything he’d ever seen.

He speaks it then, softly. “You’re not just human.”

“Suguru you-”

“You’ve got a power.” You roll your eyes now, infuriated at the annoying man you chose to fall for.

Well you never chose to. You just did.

“You will not even act like you don’t love a human-”

“Power to bring me to my knees,” he continues, in a husky voice, and when he presses you more tightly to him, lips an inch from yours, the world fades, everything fades but this singular moment. “The power to make me give up anything, do anything for you. Kill anyone who hurts you, even if it’s myself.”

“Suguru-” He cuts you off again, kissing you as he cradles you so tightly, you feel his strength even as his body shakes with his emotions, with his regret, with his need.

“I’ll never hurt you again. I swear it. If I do, you get to twist that knife in my fucking chest.” You shake your head, but he just reiterates it, softly.

“I wouldn’t be able to.”

“You have all the power over me. You’re my everything.” You take the hand wrapped around you, placing it on your tummy, heating up as his violet gaze drifts down to it.

“We are your everything, Suguru. Of course, Mimiko and Nanako too. We can be… a family. If you’re willing.” He nods then, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead now. “Then let’s get them, and find… a home. A new home.”

He exhales against your skin, nodding as he carries you out, and Satoru Gojo is leaning against the wall, blindfold off for once, arms crossed casually when he smiles over at you. You tap Suguru’s shoulder and he glares at you. “You’re awfully friendly with him.”

“You’re acting jealous like you weren’t gonna pawn me off on him. Let me down.” You glare up at him and he sighs, easing you down, Satoru’s lips quirk up at the corners, easing off the wall and walking over to you now, tilting your chin up. His eyes bore into you, gleaming with his own emotions.

“Are you alright? You okay to walk?” He asks softly, you nod then, reaching over to wrap your arms around his waist. He falters for a moment, as you feel Suguru’s death glare, holding you back then, hand resting at the small of your back, warm over your silk kimono. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but cry against his chest, and Suguru looks away then, stepping back for a moment. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“No, it was shitty okay? I knew the risk and-”

“No. Thank you, Satoru.” You look up, and his heart hurts when he sees your tears, as his friend avoids even looking at the two of you. “It was the right thing to do, and don’t you dare feel bad.”

He sighs in relief, hugging you again, lips pressed against your ear as he bends down. “You brought my friend back, I should be thanking you.”

You cry more, body shaking and so small in the strong sorcerers hold, as Suguru clears his throat. “You all are a little too close.”

“I can still take care of her if-”

“No!? I mean, no.” Suguru rubs the back of his neck, frowning as he wants to rip his best friend’s arms off. “I was… being…”

“Stupid?” Satoru and you finish, and Suguru crosses his arms now, glaring at the two of you.

“It wouldn’t have been the right decision, especially how you’re pawing at her. Let her go.” Suguru yanks you away, and you can’t stop the laugh that escapes, a sound Suguru never really heard from you, breathless, your soft smile lighting up a tragically beautiful face, one he’s kept upset.

“You’re jealous?” You ask, and he scoffs, glaring, while Satoru does not remove his hand, smirking over at him.

“You two are just too close is all. Conspiring this whole time?”

“Maybe so.” You look back to Satoru, smiling again. “We’re going away for a while, but… we’ll be back one day. Won’t we, Suguru?” You hold out a hand now, and he nods stiffly, Satoru sees it then, the love he so clearly has right on his face for you, and the love you have for him, as your hands entwine.

“We will be.” He gruffly repeats, and the three of you stand there for a moment, each hand is held by the two men as they glance at each other, wondering if it’s still there - the deep friendship, and fuck you truly hope it is. Suguru didn’t just need you, he needed him too, and you hope one day your psycho husband can work on his very shitty communication and open up.

“We would’ve had fun together, sweets.” Gojo teases one more time, before Suguru has you yanked up against him, scowling deeper at Satoru, while you giggle, against Suguru’s hard chest, resting your head for a moment.

“You think it would’ve been fun, him pawning me off huh?” You tease back, and are landed right back in Suguru’s arms, while he and Satoru walk out side by side, and sleep starts to tug at your body, still drained from the hit.

“Of course we would have, you wouldn’t have even missed him.” Gojo winks and you giggle, and you’re pretty sure Suguru is about to lose his mind, walking out then to see the wreckage, it takes your breath for a moment, Suguru’s shoulders slump as he takes in the chaos and destruction.

“Hey, we’ll do better than this.” You say softly, caressing his face, a thumb brushing over a sharp cheekbone. He nods then, sighing and shutting his eyes, as if he can’t take it all in.

“Satoru, thank you for… helping save her.” Satoru blinks in surprise - a thank you is nothing he thought he’d get. “I guess we may cross paths again.”

“I guess we might.” Satoru smiles at you both a little sadly, as if he’d gotten his friend back and he’s going away again, but also it’s a peaceful look, for the moment things are safe for Satoru’s students and friends. For a moment there is peace in his heart as he looks at the two of you. “You’ll have a baby by then.”

“Yes we will.” Suguru murmurs, nodding to him a bit.

“Name it Satoru-”

“No.”

Satoru pouts then, shaking his head. “You know, so ungrateful. I’m out of here, bye sweets.” He winks at you again and throws two fingers up with a grin, disappearing without a trace. You giggle at it, and Suguru keeps glaring daggers.

“You like him far too much.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“We just connect because we both love an emo bitch.”

“An emo… when you’re better, I’m beating the fucking attitude out of you.” Your tummy flips, and you bury your face again in his neck.

“You can’t even do instant transmission like Gojo, huh?”

“Instant… that’s an anime!? I have a dragon, that’s much fucking cooler than Gojo’s shit, hmm?” You just smile against his neck, knowing then, this is him. This is Suguru Geto, the man you lived to see glimpses of. As he’s summoning these giant curses, his rainbow dragon, sitting you right on there and smiling, eyes crinkling and making you melt.

You gasp as you all take off - it’s as if you are some Princess, with a psycho cult leader who loves you, as he pulls you against him, head against his chest while he tenderly brushes your hair back. The exhaustion starts hitting, the fact that you almost lost him, lost everything that you suddenly realize is so important to you, while he inhales the scent of your hair and you fly up.

“Dragons are pretty cool.” You concede softly, earning his chuckle, lips tenderly brushing against your temple.

“I’m sorry I left you last night, I’m so sorry.” You look up sleepily, fuck you’re exhausted, trying to focus on him now.

“I forgive you, Suguru.”

“Should you?” His whisper is soft when you lay back against him again, arms wrapped around his waist.

“Probably not, but I do. I just… want you to never leave me. Promise, please.” You whisper against where his chest is bare, the wind gently rushing across your faces, while he holds you nestled in his arms.

“I promise, Princess. I will never leave you again.”

*****

One year later

You hold your sweet baby Noa against your chest as Suguru puts Mimiko and Nanako to bed, they’re giggling and kissing all over her as they always love to do, but Suguru gently chides them. “Girls, you know it’s well past bedtime.”

“We can help mom with Noa though!” Mimiko crosses her arms, and you smile at her, brushing her hair back.

“I appreciate all your help, but Noa is going to sleep too.” You peek at her precious face, she looks a lot like you but has Suguru’s silky black locks already, too much hair for a little baby to have. And her eyes have the darkest lashes, just like her father, who ruffles both of the girls’ hair now, chuckling.

“Boba tomorrow from your favorite place if you don’t argue.” His sing-song voice works.

“Fine dad.” They say simultaneously, and then the girls kiss you all before finally bouncing off to their rooms, leaving you and Suguru to head toward the nursery, his arm around your waist as your bare feet pad across the floor.

“You always bribe those girls, you know.” He chuckles once more, a sound that’s much more frequent these days, opening up the door for you now, the moonlight filtering through the blinds, illuminating the pretty room, all decorated in pretty pinks and purple by the girls before Noa came.

“I mean, are you arguing the efficiency of these tactics?” Suguru teases, having gone from war tactics to bribery for time alone with you was something quite new to him, but it fit well. Everything felt…

Perfect with you.

With the girls.

With his sweet baby girl, who is already fast asleep against your chest, her pretty face serene as you brush a thumb against a chubby cheek, smiling tenderly, the moon casting shadows across your beautiful face. It fills him with so much tenderness it’s hard to even explain, the way you fit so perfectly, knowing you were the missing piece, filling the void he let grow too long.

Your love for Noa was beautiful to see, of course Suguru adores his little girl, but you were so devoted and constant, also in your love to his girls. Since you met them you were kind, but once you all left and moved out of the country and spent more time, you were fiercely protective and loving of them like they were your own, and the girls had even started calling you mom.

Everything felt too good, and sometimes Suguru wonders if he deserves any of it, any of this happiness, love or joy that you brought him. You look up at him then, a sweet smile on your face, and he walks up to the pretty little white bassinet, brushing Noa’s downy hair back and smiling.

“She looks milk drunk again.” He teases, you shush him, a finger to the lips, a smile on your face.

“She might be, but you know…” your fingertips drift down his chest, over the silk of his robes, making his stomach clench hot with desire. He's been dying to have you, but you two were waiting until you healed up after a bit of a rough labor. The look you give him now makes him ache for you. “I’m feeling very good tonight. I think I pumped enough to have a glass of wine?”

“Fuck…” You cover your giggle and he sighs, hands clenching against your waist too tightly, before releasing you with an exhale. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He exhales and takes your hand, gently tugging you so that you both shut the door quietly of Noa’s room, pressing you against the wall now, arms on either side of your head.

“You’re so excited for wine, Suguru.” You whisper, and you know you fuck with him, he knows you’re aware of the affect you have on him, when you look at him like that under your lidded gaze. “You haven’t gone without drinking, why are you so excited?”

“I’ve gone without drinking alright…” His insinuation makes your cheeks heat up, a blush in the dark, quiet hallway. Although Suguru did have a maids, a cook and a nanny to help you, the home was far quieter than it was with a whole fucking cult living in it. It was much more intimate, private, even though it was hard for you both to get time together alone.

A lot of times, you were exhausted, but you’re wide awake now. All you can do is think about how badly you want him, the most you all have done is months was him toying your clit till you came, and you sucking him down your throat last week when you two had woken up.

He’d been ready to ‘drink you’ last night when the baby started crying, and he’d waited for you to come back only to find you crashed in the rocking chair with Noa. He’d almost had that damn taste on his tongue, but he knows how devoted you are, and fuck he was too, but if he didn’t get to fuck her soon, he was going to lose his fucking mind. 

He tilts your chin up with two fingers, his hair falling softly against your skin as he leans down, eyeing your lips. “What wine do you want, Princess?” He asks, at your command, fuck Suguru is practically ready to kiss your feet if you just let him sink inside you again.

The entire pregnancy until right about the end he’d not left you alone, you were too beautiful, your tits leaking milk, your hips widening to have his baby, the roundness of your tummy, every single mark the baby left. He couldn’t stop devouring you the entirety of it, couldn’t control how sexy you were pregnant, and you’re so beautiful now.

“Some red wine, Sugu. Please.” The nickname always destroys him, he almost falters and just fucks you right in this hallway, instead trying to hold himself together and nodding, gesturing for you to follow.

You both walk slowly to the kitchens, where he opens up one of the wine fridges, and pulls out a bottle of your favorite, one you have had one sip on right after the baby as a little treat. Your cute little squeal of excitement makes him laugh in amusement, pouring you a glass as you watch the dark red liquid swirl.

“Don’t drink too much, you’re gonna be so wasted from like two sips.”

“Will not be! Gimme.” You snatch it up, fingers brushing against his, igniting sparks through the both of you, your eyes meeting his, dark violet in the dimly lit kitchens, he doesn’t let go until you pull back, taking a shaky breath. “Mmm!”

“Yummy?” He pours his own glass, eyeing you over it, the look filling your tummy with more heat than the wine pouring down your throat could, warming you all over.

“So yummy.” You step closer, sipping the sweet liquid, some of it slipping across your lips, and he groans.

“Fuck this.” He sets your glass down and you gasp.

“Excuse me, rude! I can’t have a glass after having your baby?”

“You can have a whole fucking bottle later.” You’re lifted right on the counter, making you so dizzy at how quickly he’s got you lifted, letting out a shaky breath when he slides up the silk of your yukata, watching goosebumps rise against your skin with every inch revealed. “I think I need a drink first.”

“Sugu- ah!” He’s bent down as you’re spread wide on the kitchen counter, kissing a hot messy trail up your thighs, cock throbbing under his robes, already leaking precum just inhaling the scent of your cunt. Your head falls back, revealing your pretty throat as you cry out, arching your hips. “F-fuck…”

“Gonna cum from my breath, huh? Pathetic.” You scowl now, kicking at him with your foot, but he just catches it, smirking up at you as he leans up, his lips a breath against yours, fingers brushing over your bare cunt, and groaning. “No panties, were you wanting this?”

“Of course I w-was, you think I wanted wine?” He moans, slamming his lips against yours, fingers running up and down your slit, your clit twitches when he focuses there, running in circles and making you close just from that. You cling to his silk robes, soft and thick under your fingers, while his tongue starts trailing across your neck, tickling and making you wetter.

“I can’t wait to fuck this perfect cunt again, make you remember that she’s fucking mine.” He’s back down between your thighs as your head rests against the cabinets, uncomfortable as the marble counter is cold under your ass, but all you can think is more.

“Show me then.” He moans softly, on his knees now, so fucking tall he’s counter height to your cunt, and your hands enwrap in his soft raven locks when he presses a hot kiss right against your cunt, watching as you jerk, breathing against you.

“Keep it quiet, slutty little princess, huh?” You nod weakly, fuck it’s been so long since he’s spoken to you like that, since he’s worshipped you like this, and you don’t think you can ever got this long again, not when his tongue laps at your honeyed arousal, making you scream out against your palm. “Fuck… taste your cunt, god she’s so wet f’me, huh?”

“Yes…” You weakly whisper, pulling your hand back just to slam it on your mouth again, the manor you live in is huge but you still don’t want to be that noisy, though it’s damn near impossible as his long tongue slides inside your gummy walls, curling up and making you almost cum from that. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Mnh…” He’s lost then, lost in your taste, in the way your cunt drools down his face, hot and sweet as he drinks it all in, slurping you up while you shatter for him, falling apart with every flick and swirl of his tongue. Your legs start to tremble and he grabs them, spreading them wider, and you can feel your orgasm building up, his teeth nibbling on your clit as you try to keep quiet.

“G-going to cum!” You whisper, but it’s too late, your cunt clenched around his tongue, walls quivering while he curls it up, his nose now hitting your clit, and you let out a muffled scream, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum. “Suguru!”

“That’s it,” he’s sliding his tongue out, sticking two fingers instead, you gasp at the thick, long digits in your cunt, untouched for months, the stretch making you hiss. Your hips are bucking against the counter while he looks up under dark lashes, licking your cunt off his lips. “Another, you can, can’t you princess?”

You nod weakly, and he’s curling those fingertips up against your spongy spot, making you blinded, back down there lapping at your clit and feeling you tighten all around him, that pressure a telltale sign that you’re gonna cum so much for him. “Ah!” You cry out again, biting your lower lip so hard while your head slams the cabinet and you gush down him, orgasm rocking you in waves. “Sugu, too much!”

“You can take more, won’t you be a perfect slut for me? You know you wanna cum again and again. Wanna drown me with all that cum, huh?” His words and their tone fuck you up almost as much as his breath on your clit, while he holds you there, his tongue flicking until your legs finally stop shaking and you collapse, breathing weakly, hands tugging at his hair, burning his scalp.

“Please, fuck me Sugu. God, I need it in me.” Your plea is not going to be denied, not when Suguru almost came from just licking you. He kisses you again, letting you taste your sweetness off his mouth, burying his hands in your hair before picking you up, and you cling to his neck, legs wrapped around him.

“You want it in you, huh?” You just nod weakly, letting him carry you to the room you two share, in moments he has the yukata untied.

“Want it, want it in me so bad- ngh!” Suguru has bared your skin to his gaze, your body swathed in moonlight, for a moment you cover up just a bit, your tummy isn’t the same, and he’s not seen you too much since, earning his glare, as he grips your wrists and eases your arms down.

“You’re as beautiful as the first moment I saw you, so beautiful you made me question if you had some fucking power over me.” He says softly then, easing your worry, a hand brushing over a glimmery mark from Noa, slipping over to your hip and gripping it firmly, watching you tremble in pleasure. “The most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen, got it?”

You nod weakly, swallowing emotions as you quickly untie his robes, revealing his toned, perfect body, your hands shake as they touch his chest, feeling his strong muscles under your fingers. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“Shh.” He picks you up now, cock hard and heavy, already leaking precum when he picks you up, lifting your thigh as you sink into the bed, over the dark purple and gold silk covers, the black canopy enveloping the two of you in darkness. The incense lit earlier still linger in the air, mixing with the scent of Suguru, which makes you need him even more.

“Please, please…” You never beg, he wants to smirk down at you and gloat his victory, but he can't. All he can do is slide his tip right on your slit, groaning as he presses in, feeling your heat wrapping his cock.

“Fucking feel you, so tight, god. Slutty cunt is soaked, all for me?” You nod weakly, and then he thrusts his cock all the way inside to the fucking hilt, and you can’t bite back your scream, thankful the room is so far from the girls now, as he watches you and moans, sliding out and back in. “That’s it, she wants it so much, she’s so fucking greedy huh?”

“Shut up and f-fuck me- ah!” Suguru glares as he does just that, and you would smile at getting him all mad if you weren’t close to cumming from being so full, so stretched by his thick veiny cock.

“Talking shit? You’re still such a brat, tsk.” He’s raised your thighs then, bending you in a way you don’t think you can anymore, pausing when you whine out. “Here okay?” He asks softly, for a moment, then when you nod his sweetness is over, and Suguru Geto is fucking you hard, sure strokes that fuck your brain up until it can’t even function.

He knows it too, as he fucks into you, watching you shatter for him, balls slapping against your ass so heavy, so full of his seed ready to pump inside your eager hole, and you’re begging to be filled by him as he moves. Harder and harder, pressing your thighs further against you until he’s got you in a mating press, and you’re clinging to his biceps, nails digging in.

“That’s it, cum again, let me fucking feel you milk me, huh?” He’s nasty like this, filthy words flowing from his lips like poetry, and all you can do is nod - a girl who once said ‘fuck you’ is now saying-

“Fuck me, fuck me, please, yes!”

And Suguru delights in it, making his pretty wife a mess under him, feeling the hips that are wider from having his babies, seeing your breasts squish, a little milk leaking from them, and then he loses it. “Perfect cunt, she’s ready for all this cum, isn’t she?”

“Mnnnhh - ah! Suguru!” You’re unable to answer when he’s holding your thighs up and slamming his cock until you’re drooling, incoherent.

“Asked you - hah - a question, princess,” he has the audacity to say, in between heavy breaths, all you can do is cry out, as he holds back then, just when you’re about to cum, making you whine out. “Answer.”

“You’re such a - ah! - dick I swear, just lemme cum!” You’re digging your nails in his back so hard you leave marks, and he hisses, but you just turn him on more, making him fuck into you brutally now, pinning you under him so you can’t even squirm.

“Answer me.”

“No!”

“Now.”

“Fuck- ngh! Yes, yes, lemme cum, fuck!” He slams his cock deep and rolls his hips now, letting you finally cum all around him, milking his cock with your greedy cunt, he leans down and kisses you, swallowing your every sweet cry.

“That’s it, she wants all that cum, huh?” You nod weakly, tears of pleasure sneaking from the corners of your eyes, and then he pumps you full, moaning and entwining his hands with yours as the cum pulses so deep, and the two of you struggle to catch your breath. “Fuck, princess, taking me so good, huh? Made for me…”

“Mmhmm…” You’re breathless and exhausted when Suguru pulls back, kissing down and across your chest. The two of you lay there for a while each recovering, laughing, and tickling each other’s skin with gentle touches, grinning.

It’s so perfect here with him in this moment. All of the pain feels like a lifetime ago, not forgotten, but long, long forgiven.

“I’m never going this long without your perfect cunt again.” He touches your clit, making you jerk, laughing as he sucks your cum and his off his finger, moaning and kissing you again.

“I don’t wanna go that long either.” You sigh, kissing up his cheek now. “You know, I was thinking…” you trail off, slipping kisses across Suguru’s sweat slicked chest, he moans, his cock so sticky with cum pulsing again just at that, while his hand runs up and down your back.

“Should I fuck you again, so you can’t think?” He raises an arrogant dark brow, and you narrow your eyes, making him chuckle. “What?

“Well… I was thinking we should visit him.”

“VIsit who? Fuck…” You kiss at the base of his neck, making him tug you onto him, straddling his waist, cunt still coated and dripping his white milky liquid pouring down his dark happy trail, pooling in his flat belly button. He rubs your clit again, watching your eyes dilate, your hips shift. “God, look at the mess you’re making.”

“Mmhmm, but I mean visit Satoru.” Suguru’s scowl makes you giggle, he’s unreasonably jealous that you and Satoru stayed friends. It’s occasional calls, but he’s always mad as fuck afterward.

“Why are we bringing up Satoru when you’re dripping cum on me?” He slips you down, grabbing your hips now, thumbs pressing against the lines that Noa left, eyes feasting on your pretty body. “Look at you, fuck you’re perfect.”

“Am not even.”

“You are so perfect. C’mere.” He yanks you down now, your hair falling across his chest, as he cups your face with one hand, the other making you grind on him. You cry out at the contact, earning his smirk. “Shut you up.”

“N-no! I think it would be good f-for you- you’re distracting me!?”

“Sure am.” You pull up and scowl, so adorable he melts like he always does, sighing as he stares up at you in the dark night. “Fine, we can visit him.”

“Yay! It’ll be good for you, your friend seeing you again. I know it.”

“Yeah yeah, we’ll talk about that after I put another baby inside you.” You gasp then, when he’s lifted you, dragging you right back down his length, filling you in one quick stroke, making you scream out, shaking as the burn hits, feeling so fucking good when he bottoms out in your cunt, loud, wet and messy. He bites that lower lip, lashes lowering, while you struggle to breathe.

“You use your cock to distract me, huh?” He answers with a smirk, slamming his cock up inside you then, you cling to his chest, while his hands drift you your hips, and your cunt is spasming. “No more babies yet.”

“Sure, Princess, whatever you say.” You both glare at each other, before they turn into faces of pleasure, before joking little teases morph into cries and moans, before he’s filled you up again, and again, until you’re collapsed against him, so weak and worn out.

You don’t believe him one bit when he’s waking you up and fucking into you, cumming inside you so much your tummy is full of him, not when he grips your chin with that feral look in his fucking eyes - no, Suguru Geto does want more babies, and you can’t say you mind. Not when having his baby was the best thing that happened, and not when you aren’t dying to give him more.

“I love you, Princess.” He murmurs, stroking you from behind, you gasp and arch your back, whining into his kisses.

“I love you, Suguru.” And you fall again, into the arms of a man that once was a monster, but now was simply…

Your Suguru.

Ahhh so if you read both ends, I hope you enjoyedd, if you only read this I also hope you enjoyed. I initially only planned the bittersweet end, but I enjoyed writing this SO MUCH. Thanks for everyone who stuck around and commented and shared your thoughts on this story. See you in the othersss <3

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[absdollievu]

could you possibly do experienced abby and reader who hasn't had sex with anyone besides using her dildos and fingers and perhaps is stretched out due to her using the dildos so much if that makes sense🙏🙏

Only for me, then?

experienced!abby x inexperienced!reader

Warnings: mention of dildos and toys, cunniligus(r!receiving) fingering(r!receiving)

this is crazy but I love it

The room’s dim, quiet except for the low hum of whatever movie’s playing — something neither of you are paying attention to. You’re curled up next to Abby on her couch, blanket across your lap, shoulders almost touching.

Almost.

She’s relaxed the way she always is. One arm draped across the back of the couch, long fingers idly close to your hair. She hasn’t touched you tonight. Not really. But you’re wound tight anyway, heart ticking faster every time her knee brushes yours.

“You good?” she asks, low, like she already knows the answer.

You nod, then shake your head. “I’m just… thinking.”

Abby shifts slightly, not pushing, but focused now. “About what?”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to tell her — you do — but it sounds awkward in your head. You’ve had weeks of tension building up between you, but you’ve never crossed that line. Not yet. Not completely.

“I want to sleep with you,” you say finally. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

Abby doesn’t react with surprise. She just tilts her head slightly, eyes steady. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pause. “I’ve never… with anyone. Not like that.”

Still no surprise. Just quiet attention. She nods once, like that’s all she needs.

You clear your throat. “But I’ve used toys. A lot. I know what I like. I’m just—new to the part where it’s not me.”

Abby shifts again — closer, this time. Her knee presses into yours, and her fingers slide gently against your shoulder, grounding you.

“That’s good to know,” she says, tone unreadable but not teasing. “So you’re used to it. Just not with someone else.”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She leans in, slow, giving you time to stop her. You don’t. Her lips brush yours, soft at first, then deeper. When she pulls back, her voice is quieter.

“Only me, then.”

You nod again, heartbeat fast. She stands, fingers lacing gently with yours.

“Come here,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”

And you do.

Her bedroom’s dark except for the soft glow from the hallway. Abby shuts the door behind you and gives you a moment to just… breathe. She doesn’t crowd you, doesn’t rush.

But when she steps in, she’s focused. Quiet. Eyes on you like she’s already mapping out what she wants to do.

“You sure?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

You nod. “Yeah. I want this.”

She moves in, slow but deliberate, hands on your waist. You tilt your head up and she kisses you again — deeper this time. Her hands slide under your shirt, warm against your stomach, then up. She pulls it off and tosses it aside like she’s done it a hundred times. But when her eyes drop to your chest, there’s something new there — something reverent.

“You’re beautiful,” she says softly, like she means it.

Her fingers skim over your skin, thumbs brushing your nipples, and your breath catches. She’s not even trying yet and your body’s already burning for more.

You reach for her, fingers tugging at her tank top. “Take it off.”

She does, muscles flexing as she pulls it over her head. Her body is strong, solid, and warm. You’ve imagined it so many times — her arms around you, her mouth on you — but nothing compares to having it right here.

She leans down again, this time slower, mouth dragging from your neck to your collarbone, down between your breasts. Her hands stay on your waist, thumbs stroking soft circles into your skin, grounding you even as she pushes you back toward the bed.

You sit down. She kneels in front of you.

“Can I?” Her fingers hook the waistband of your pants.

You nod. “Yeah.”

She pulls everything down in one smooth motion, underwear included. You’re bare in front of her now, and it’s terrifying and thrilling all at once. You instinctively squeeze your thighs together, but Abby gently parts them with her hands and settles between them like she belongs there.

Her eyes drop to your cunt, and she pauses — then exhales a quiet curse.

“Fuck,” she mutters. “You’re soaked already.”

You squirm, embarrassed.

Abby looks up at you, expression unreadable for a moment. Then her mouth twitches into the smallest smirk. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

She drags a finger along your slit — light, teasing — and you shiver. When she pushes one finger in, it sinks in easily. Her eyes flick up to yours.

“You really have been stretching yourself, huh?”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah.”

She smiles, almost proud. “Gonna make this easy for me.”

She adds a second finger, slow but steady. They slide in without resistance, and her thumb brushes your clit with barely any pressure. Your hips twitch.

“You ever done this to yourself and thought about me?” she asks, voice low and rough.

You nod frantically without thinking.

She groans softly. “Good.”

Her pace is slow at first — testing. Mapping how your body reacts. She curls her fingers just right and your breath catches in your throat. She keeps doing it, over and over, until your hips are rolling without you meaning to.

“Feels good?” she murmurs, kissing your thigh.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Fuck, Abby—”

She pulls her fingers out and replaces them with her mouth. No warning, no hesitation — just her tongue flat against you, licking you open, slow and thorough like she has all the time in the world. You cry out, hands grabbing at her shoulders for something to hold onto.

She moans into you when you grind against her mouth, then slides two fingers back inside you without breaking rhythm. Her mouth and hand work together like she’s done this a hundred times — and maybe she has. You don’t care. Right now, it’s just you and her and the heat building low in your belly, fast and intense.

“Close?” she mumbles against your clit.

You nod frantically. “Yes — please don’t stop.”

Abby doesn’t. She speeds up just a little — the thrust of her fingers, the swirl of her tongue — and it’s too much, too perfect. You come hard, with a choked moan, thighs shaking around her head. She holds you through it, fingers still moving until you gasp and push her away.

She kisses your inner thigh once more, then looks up at you — flushed, focused, and smug as hell.

“Told you I’d take care of you,” she says, crawling up beside you.

You’re still panting, trembling slightly. “That was…”

“Better than your toys?”

You laugh, breathless. “So much better.”

Abby brushes your hair back, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Good,” she says. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

⸻

[carbonfiction]

Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

[formulaonecrumbs]

Would you consider ‘little blood hurt nobody’ but with lando instead ? 🩷

don’t be sorry🩸

Lando Norris x reader

summary: reader unexpectedly gets her period during sex with lando. he helps her clean up and comforts her with warmth and softness.

warnings: BLOOD period talk, unexpected bleeding, gentle aftercare, soft smut (barely), fluff

A/N: don’t need to even consider baby, u ask and u shall receive. but thank u anon for the request!!!! low-key i forgot to add the cockwarming, IM SO SORRY especially if that’s what u wanted out of it. i hope u can enjoy soft gentle lando anyways. lovezzz uzzz ❤️

p.s. sorry for the no mood-board. i wasn’t quite sure what pics i would use + plus i got lazy :p

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

it’s slow. it always is with him.

his hands are warm and steady, fingertips dragging down your sides as if he’s still learning the shape of you. like he’s trying to memorize it again tonight, just in case something changes. you love how he touches you—curious and reverent, like you’re something delicate and holy.

you’re already half-undressed when he settles between your thighs, kisses lazy and unhurried. the hotel room is dim, lit only by the bedside lamp and the soft glow from the city outside the window. his shirt’s already tossed on the floor, and his skin is warm when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

you’d been aching for him all day. something about the way he looked at you during breakfast, or the way his hand brushed against yours when he passed you a water bottle at the track. and now that he’s here—bare skin against yours, mouth at your neck, hands cradling your waist—it’s like your whole body sighs in relief.

you don’t even realize anything’s wrong until he’s almost all the way in.

you flinch.

just barely.

his head snaps up. “did i hurt you?”

“no,” you whisper quickly. “just—felt weird for a sec.”

his brows knit together. he pulls back slightly, still inside you but not moving, watching your face closely. “are you okay?”

you nod, even though something feels… off. your stomach’s been cramping a little today, but you thought it was just from walking around too much, the heat maybe. but now there’s a dull ache settling in your lower back, and something heavy in your gut that wasn’t there before.

you shift a little. that’s when you feel it.

shit.

you go still.

“wait—” you breathe, hands flat on his chest now, panicked.

lando freezes instantly. “what is it?”

you shake your head. “i—i think… fuck, i think i just got my period.”

he blinks. “now?”

“yeah,” you whisper, voice suddenly shaking. “just now.”

you try to sit up, heart already racing. “i didn’t know, i didn’t feel anything earlier, i’m sorry—”

he cups your face. “hey. stop. why are you apologizing?”

“because i just—ruined the whole mood, and the sheets, and—”

he’s already pulling out gently, helping you sit up properly without a word. when you glance down, there’s a little blood. not a lot. just enough to make your stomach twist with embarrassment.

but lando doesn’t even flinch. he grabs the edge of the comforter, tugging it aside, and then turns to you like it’s nothing.

“okay,” he says. “we’ll get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“lando—”

“baby.” he leans forward, presses a kiss to your temple. “it’s fine. i swear. just sit here a second.”

you’re quiet while he disappears into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and one of his shirts from your suitcase. he’s humming something under his breath when he comes back—so casual, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

he helps you clean up, his touch careful and gentle. when you try to apologize again, he just gives you this look. soft, steady.

“you think this changes anything?” he asks. “you think a little blood makes me want you less?”

your eyes sting a little.

“it’s not that,” you say softly. “it’s just… i was really looking forward to it. and now i feel gross.”

he frowns. “you’re not gross.”

you shrug helplessly, curling up on your side. “i just wanted to make you feel good.”

lando climbs in beside you, pulling you into his chest. “you do,” he says into your hair. “you always do. even when we’re not doing anything.”

you bury your face in his shoulder. “still feel kinda dumb.”

he kisses your forehead. “well, you’re not. and now you’re stuck with me cuddling you all night.”

you huff a laugh. “oh no, how will i survive.”

he pulls the blanket up around you both, fingers tracing soft circles into your back. “you okay now?”

“yeah,” you say quietly. “hurts a little. but i’m okay.”

he shifts slightly, tugs your leg over his hip, one of his arms slipping under your head like a pillow. “if you want to just stay like this,” he says, voice low, “you can. i’ve got you.”

you nod, eyes already heavy.

you fall asleep like that—warm, safe, and wrapped up in his arms, the weight of embarrassment gone.

THE END :>

[zevrra]

pls can u write a jealous! joel who has just settled into jackson after bringing ellie back from the hospital! if you’d like, can you please have reader be pissed at him because he made her stay behind while he went to drop off ellie:)

CHEMISTRY ✮

𝗳𝘁. jealous/jackson!joel x ex-gf fem!reader

𝘄𝗰. 5k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: straight smut, age gap, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, cussing, unprotected p in v, coming inside v, feelings involved…

𝗮/𝗻: this is way longer than i wanted it to be but like not even mad about it tbh skdhdjj anyway i hope you enjoy!! :3

You couldn’t believe your eyes. 

It had been almost a year since you had last been in Boston. Since you had last seen him. Joel Miller. An ex-lover of yours; who chose a job over staying with you— all because he couldn’t come to terms with the feelings he had for you. 

You had crossed the country to find this little settlement you heard other raiders talk about. Packed up and moved away from Boston after waiting and waiting for Joel; who left you cold and lying in your bed alone. 

And you were finally starting to be happy again in your little corner of the world. Patrols, tasks, a drink at the bar, meeting other men or women to fill that little hole Joel had left inside your heart. 

And now he was here, in Jackson, standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison, watching you with that heavy gaze you remembered all too well. 

Your eyes locked, almost at the exact same time, as if sensing each other’s presence or feeling some kind of pull towards each other. 

The live music pumps loud in your ears but the blood rushing to your head is louder. You can feel your pick of the man for the night kissing against your throat, his hands wandering along your body, but you’re not focused on him in the slightest. 

But Joel sure is.

Even across the room you can see the storm behind his eyes. The anger, the confusion, the jealousy. 

His boots are loud and heavy as he stalks across the hardwood. You try to detach yourself from the man grinding up against you but Joel is faster. One large hand is grabbing the collar of the other man’s shirt, dragging him entirely out of your personal space, and tossing him against the bar’s floor like he’s a damned rag doll. 

“Shit! Joel!” You shout, grabbing onto the thick of his bicep and dragging him backwards. 

Joel stumbles back, only because it’s you tugging on him. 

“Keep your fuckin’ hands off her.” Joel growls, pointing at the man thrown to the floor. 

You utter a swift apology to the guy, whose name you didn’t even know, before you’re dragging Joel towards the closest exit. 

When the cold winter of Wyoming hits your skin, it feels like your entire body is steaming with how flushed and angry you are. Joel’s just a step behind you so when you suddenly stop and swivel on your heel to face him, he’s standing directly behind you. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You scoff, pure disgust dripping off your tongue. It tastes sour, unfamiliar to you when you were so used to speaking to him with so much love. 

Joel’s eyebrows knit in confusion. As if he half expected you to fling yourself into his arms and cry his name at his sudden return.  

“Me? What about you? He was all over ya!” Joel sneers with a deep frown settling onto his face. 

You laugh in disbelief at his statement, unable to wrap your head around what he was saying. “Yeah, Joel, that’s the whole fuckin’ point.” You curse under your breath, rubbing a hand across your face. The warmth of a headache was already beginning to crawl its way across your mind.

“And you think that’s alright?” Joel huffs in similar disgust, pushing his jacket aside so his hands can settle on his hips. 

You roll your eyes at him, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “I ‘member you leavin’ me back in Boston, so yeah, I think it’s alright.” 

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “You promised to wait for me.” He whispers, seething with jealousy and anger. 

His words chill you more than the cold of Wyoming does, makes you shudder and hug yourself a little tighter to fight off the cold.

“Dammit Joel! I did wait! I waited for months before deciding to move on. You still left me! Choose a job over me!” You shout right back, almost pushing up onto your tippy toes to be eye level with Joel just so he could also see the anger in your eyes. 

Joel scowls down at you. “Apparently you didn’t wait that long. Was the bed even cold?”

That’s it. Those words nail the coffin close. You had told yourself that maybe, if you had ever run into Joel again, you’d find a small little piece of your heart left big enough to forgive him for asking you to stay behind and wait for him. 

“I can’t believe this.” You whisper, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fuck you, Joel. Don’t talk to me again.” 

You spin on your heel, demanding your legs to move, stalking through the snow in search of the path that would take you home. You’d forget everything in the morning. Boston, him, those months of waiting—everything. 

“Now wait here—“ Joel’s voice chases after you and he takes three simple strides to catch up to you, a strong hand grabbing your bicep and holding you still. 

You try once to shake out of his grasp but it doesn’t work, he’s got ahold of you now. He turns you back to him, forcing you to face him, as he plants himself before you once again. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel says, his breath fogging up into the cold night’s air. “I’m…a fucking idiot. And I’m sorry.” 

The words make you feel a little lightheaded hearing them. Joel, apologizing? The man you knew back in Boston, the raider you knew, would have never said sorry. Not even if his life depended on it. 

What the fuck happened on this “job” he took? 

Silence stretches between the two of you for a few heartbeats. Letting his apology sink further and further into your skin and bones. 

“You don’t get to just…apologize and make everything okay again.” You whisper, eyes fluttering under his gaze. Suddenly the cold has reduced your anger to nothing but smothered coals. You wouldn’t admit that maybe your heart was betraying you just a little…because this definitely wasn’t the man you knew roughly a year ago. 

“I know, I know.” Joel’s voice cools, the anger and jealousy subsiding, leaving just a hollow pain to his tone. “I’m sorry. I just, dammit, I don’t know. Seeing you with someone else…all this time, I thought maybe you were gone…and I would never see ya again. But…think it’s worse seein’ ya with someone else.” 

Your heart pounds inside your chest at his words. This…vulnerable side of him was something you had not expected to ever see or hear. Listening to him mutter his feelings and his apologies all in one night? Unheard of. Even if it was all over something as silly as jealousy…it was strange; new. Made you feel like a little girl with butterflies in her stomach. 

“Well, I didn’t die, as you can see.” You reply, embarrassment fanning over your cheeks. Silly to feel so…young and dumb again. But you weren’t dead, even though the last several months had tried their hardest to kill you. “Now, let go. I’d like to go home.” 

Joel doesn’t move an inch though. Instead he’s stepping closer to you, his fingers trailing down the length of your arm until they gently wrap around your wrist. He brings the back of your chilled fingers to the cusp of his warm lips, placing a tender kiss against your skin. 

“Let me make it up to you, shuga,” Joel whispers, slow and heavy in his Texan accent. Knowing exactly how to tug on your heart strings. 

You narrow your eyes, glancing over him once more. Time wasn’t kind to him either, it seemed. The graying in his hair was worsening. You could see at least a handful of new scars on his face. But something else had changed…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. And you couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a really fucking bad thing at the moment. 

You swipe your hand from his grasp, the cold holding your hand now as his warmth leaves the tips of your fingers. You glance towards the ground and the snow underneath your boots, tapping your foot ever so slightly as you try and decide what to do. 

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you shove your hand into the pocket of your jacket. No more hand holding; for now. “Don’t disappoint me, cowboy.” You fire back at him, calling him by his old nickname to rile him up— before you lead him to your little home in Jackson.

You expect the roughness. Expect the door to slam behind you with him stripping you out of your jacket the second he passes the door— like the good ole days. Raider Joel wanted to devour you. Wanted to taste every inch of you while you screamed his name. He used to need the pleasure to numb his mind. Needed you so badly it hurt him. 

But now it’s just a little different. 

The door closes softer when you arrive back to your place. The light stays off, no visitors right now, but with the help of a little moonlight you can still see his face and weathered eyes. 

He stands right in front of you. Taking in every inch of you with his hungry gaze. The way your hair falls is even prettier than he remembered. How you still smelled faintly of some pretty floral soap. The way your eyes still scan his face, looking at him like he was everything you had ever wanted.

Joel reaches behind his back to take off his jacket. It’s slow and precise, stripping it off his broad upper half, before letting it fall onto the back of a nearby rocking chair. His fingers work on rolling up the sleeves to his flannel, pushing the fabric farther and farther along his tanned forearms. 

His fingers move to brush against your side, pushing up and up until he’s stripping you of your own jacket— slow and steady—before he tosses your coat right next to his, moving to work on getting you out of your shirt. Strong hands grab the hem and tug it leisurely above your head. Taking his time in undressing you— teasing you. 

But fuck if the slow pace he sets isn’t almost a little painful. Everything he does, every move he makes, feels so strategic and meticulously planned out— like he’s been thinking about doing this with you every single day since you two strayed from each other. 

The worst part, you think, is that he does it all in silence. He doesn’t speak or say anything for the moment. No quip or dirty jab to get under your skin to make him fuck you faster. It’s just him, and his eyes, drinking you in like it’s the first time he’s ever seen something so delicate before…and he wants to be careful not to spook you.

It makes your heart pound, hard, against your ribs. Playing a melody that only he could hear as every precise touch is slowly driving you crazy; forcing your lungs to expand faster to the point that you’re panting standing still as stone.  

His fingers raise and slowly push back some hair behind your ear. You flinch just a little, expecting the rougher side of him to take over but instead his soft gaze returns to scanning your face. 

The tips of his fingers trail down to follow along your jawline, where he tilts your head back. His lips brush against your forehead first, your temple second, and then finally— ever so gently— he lays his lips onto yours. 

The kiss is tender and soft, as if he’s scared you’ll run away. But when you stand firm, following his lead, he presses on. Placing another firmer kiss against your lips. And another. One more, faster, more daring. Another one that melts you into him. 

Joel’s hand leaves your jaw to cradle the back of your neck, pulling your mouth closer, closer, closer, into his. The quick pecks are replaced by longing, desired filled, hot, open mouth kisses. His pace quickens until the living room is filled with the sound of your chaotic and sloppy make out; where tongue and teeth alike collide.

Your lips gnash into his own, breath quickening with each twist of your mouth. Your entire body hums with his touch. Can feel his thumb rub soothingly across your skin as his other hand settles on your hip, dragging you just that much closer into his body. You’re chest to chest and the thought of you two being perfectly made to fit each other crosses your mind before it’s gone; being replaced by a swipe of his tongue.  

You groan as the taste of him spreads like honey, sticky and sweet inside your mouth. It’s warm and welcoming as you roll your tongue into his. And you kiss him with as much vigor and eagerness as you can muster. 

You’re a little ashamed to admit you’re the first to break, gasping for air and clutching onto the front of his flannel. Your head is spinning but Joel never falters, not even a little. 

“Bedroom?” Joel whispers under his breath, lips roaming down the curve of your jaw. He kisses firmly down onto your throat, his beard just barely scratching across your throat. His teeth nip at your skin while he moves his hands across the curve of your body, molding you in your hands like a precious sculpture– until he lays his hands heavy onto your hips again. 

“Bedroom.” You respond, jerking your head in the direction of the bedroom sitting just behind you. 

Without another word, he backs you up into your bedroom, guiding you with his fingers tangling into the loops of your jeans. Somehow in the mix of the make out session, he’s skillfully stripped you of your bra, leaving you topless as you make your way to the bed. 

Joel walks you right up to the edge of your bed, forcing your knees to buckle, and lets you fall onto your mattress with a whoosh. He doesn’t let you relax though, when he’s already working you out of your jeans. 

He strips you of your jeans. Quick and easy, and as soon as the fabric hits the floor he’s slotting himself between your thighs. The flat of his palm smooths upwards across the curve of your cunt, already aching and begging for him.

“Lace?” Joel mumbles, fingers rubbing against the lacy panties you wear, right where your clit is. His lips hover over your lower abdomen. His warm breath spreads along your womb before he places a tender kiss against your tummy. 

You shiver at his words but still manage to roll your eyes, even as his fingers press against your core. You silently curse your body for betraying you so easily. Already drenched for him with barely any stimulation like you were back in Boston. 

“Shut up,” You sigh, teasingly, pushing your fingers through his graying hair. “Just enjoy. I had to trade some serious shit for ‘em.” 

“Mhm.” Joel breathes. He places another hot kiss against your womb, his fingers hooking around the thin part of your panties and giving them a sharp tug. The fabric gives way to his strong hands easily; ripping the lace right off your body. 

You gasp as he tears away your underwear, eyes widening as you stare down at him with a shocked look. “Joel!? What the fuck!” 

“You wore these for other men.” Joel growls, soft and warm, lips barely just brushing against the bare skin of your stomach as he speaks. “I’ll get you another pair…that you’ll only wear for me.” He chuckles, dark and deep from within his chest, sliding his thumb up against the bundle of nerves that call for him.

“Ugh, enough of this jealousy bullshit.” You mumble, settling your legs heavy against his shoulders. Oh he was for sure gonna make it up to you tonight; especially after ripping your underwear. 

“Pretend all you want,” Joel whispers. Another kiss against your womb. “I know you’re enjoying this…” He trails off. His thumb slides away from your clit, threading through the wet seam of your cunt, circling that fluttering little place that is increasingly coming to yearn for him. “Just look here, you’re soaked.” 

You can feel the heat of a blush stretching across your face at his words. Damn him for being right…and damn your body again for betraying you! 

“Well then you better fuckin’ do somethin’ about it, cowboy.” You huff, tugging slightly on his hair. 

Joel laughs at the pet name rolling off your tongue, replacing his thumb with a thick finger he easily slips into the velvet soft of your cunt. “With pleasure.” He mumbles before his lips attach to the flat of your aching core. No more talking, he had work to do. 

His tongue darts out immediately, pressing through the folds of your pussy while he curls his finger inside. He returns to his slow pace from before. Drags his finger in and out of your core, making sure you feel every inch, every bump of his knuckle, as he twists and turns it inside of you. Makes you feel the entire length, from the tip of his finger to the base of his knuckle. 

Joel’s tongue doesn’t move any faster either. He slowly presses and brushes his tongue along your clit in agonizingly slow rolls. Spit dripping off his tongue to mix with your increasing slick, making it easier for his finger to move in and out— teasing you beyond teasing at this point. 

You groan at the fleeting pleasure. Just when you think it’s going to be a rush, a flurry of his fingers stretching you out, he takes it away. He’s moving just enough to leave you wanting more. And damn if he doesn’t know it. 

But damn if it wasn’t working wonders on you. Your entire body trembles under his well talented hands; leaving you breathless and trembling. He knew your body so well you’re almost convinced he may have crafted you out of some piece of wood with his bare hands at some point. 

Joel twists the finger inside of you until his palm is facing upwards and just when you think he’s going to remove his finger, he slips a second one inside. Your hips lift to meet the sharp thrust of his second finger, moaning his name as your hand tightens in his hair. 

His fingers thrust faster inside of you now, just a little more than before but not enough to pull you over the edge. He was saving that for just the right moment. His fingers spread deep inside of you, stretching you out with every thrust, while his tongue flicks back and forth against your clit. 

“Joel! Quit teasin’!” You huff, trembling at every deep thrust of his fingers. You can feel him chuckle against your cunt, sending an electric shock through your entire body. 

But for once this entire night, he listens to you. Joel’s fingers pick up in pace, thrusting deep and shallow into your core. He doesn’t let you live with that long before his pace changes again; his fingers curl before he’s digging into you. His entire hand is moving up and down, instead of in and out, forcing right into every sensitive spot deep inside. It’s faster and rougher, burning hot through your entire body. 

“Fuck!” You whine, lifting your free hand to palm at your closest breast. Once your fingers roll over the nub of your nipple, you know you’re not going to last long at all. 

You’ve quickly become coiled tight, ready to leap over the edge, ready for your orgasm to burn right through every inch of your body with every thrust of his fingers and dance of his tongue. Your legs scramble, your thighs tighten, back arches and you’re close, close, close—

But just before that thin line holding you together snaps, Joel removes his fingers and backs off. Edges you straight into a spiraling mess of whines and pleas; exactly what he wants. 

“Not yet. Not until I say so, sweetheart.” Joel huffs softly, rubbing calming circles into the thick of your inner thighs to bring you back down to him. 

“You asshole…” You groan deeply, sitting up onto your elbows to stare down at him.

Joel’s lips tilt in a smirk, kissing your knee before he straightens up to his full height. “Needy?” He asks with a teasing tone you’re not really used to yet. 

You roll your eyes, lifting a weak leg and pushing into his hip, forcing him just a little to stumble backwards. 

He’s quick to undress himself then, clearly just as needy as you are, starting with his belt buckle. You listen to him undo the front of his belt before sliding it free from his belt loops. Once he kicks off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, you try your hardest not to stare at the tent under the fabric. Clear as day, leaking, and hard as a rock. 

You turn your gaze away briefly, blushing like it’s your first time fucking seeing him…but it was also a little comforting knowing you weren’t the only one enjoying this. 

When your gaze returns to him, he’s taking off his flannel shirt, and your breath catches in your throat– but for reasons outside of what was going on. 

You stare at his abdomen, where a large scar is smeared across his skin. “This is new…” You whisper, sitting up solely to stretch out to him, trailing your fingers down the scar along his midriff; shaping its size with the tips of your fingers. 

“Eh, lil somethin’ I picked up on the job. Call it karma.” Joel responds with a twitch of his lips, a smile, before he tosses his shirt off and onto the floor. He makes himself comfy on the bed where his hands grab hold of you, dragging you up and into his lap. 

You stifle a laugh at his joke. Maybe it really was karma for leaving you…but a dark, twisted feeling flutters through your heart briefly. The scenario of him dying somewhere, alone, with maybe the thought of you on his mind— without you ever knowing…the thought hurts much more than you were willing to admit in the moment. But it’s quickly swept away when Joel presses a kiss into your throat. 

“Don’t get distracted now. I’m right here.” Joel hums softly, hands sliding up the side of your body.

You instinctively wrap your body around him. Legs hooking behind his back and your arms sliding around his shoulders. Hugging him as close as your bodies would allow. 

“Yeah, I gotcha baby.” Joel mumbles in response to your clingy hands. One large hand falls onto your lower back, rubbing soft, soothing circles into your skin. His other hand trails down to your knee, where he adjusts the both of you perfectly, lining himself up against the drip of your seam. The tip of his cock sweeps through your drenched lips, gathering any of his spit or your slick onto the head to make it all just a little easier. 

Then he steadily, almost cautiously, presses into you. The burn of his cock spears you but the stretch of him is forgiving with the pleasure it brings. His name rolls off the tip of your tongue as your pussy accepts more and more of him– stuffing every inch deep inside of you with ease. Your breath quickens as you suck more of him inside until there’s nothing more for him to give. 

He bottoms out, cursing under his breath at the tightness surrounding his cock, gripping your body just a little rougher as he forces himself to still; allowing you to fully catch your breath and relax around him. 

When he finally begins to move, Joel rolls into you, slow and steady like he has been all night. He hooks your leg back around his waist, his hand returning to lay heavy on your hip. He tentatively thrusts up into you; not harsh like a storm but more calming, relaxing– like a wave you float on. He reaches deeper than you remember; and with you sitting in his lap, his hands spread out against your hip and back, lips attached to your neck, all your senses sky rocket to an eleven. 

“Fuck Joel,” You groan, meeting every slow roll of his hips with your own. 

“Mmm, yeah baby, ya like that?” Joel whispers against your skin, sinking his teeth down onto a thicker part of your throat, marking you as his. He was gonna make sure if…this didn't work out, any man for the next few weeks would at least know you were made for someone else.

You don’t…hate it though.

Joel thrusts shallowly but just like with his fingers, he’s easily pressing into every sensitive curve inside your pussy. Your mouth falls open as your bodies connect again and again. You clench around his weeping cock as he bottoms out again and again inside of you with every roll of his hips. Feeling a little victorious as Joel curses under his breath at the tightness wrapping around him but it doesn’t last long when you’re already leaping for that damn ledge he edged you back from earlier. 

“Mm, Joel,” You whine his name, fingers kneading into the thick of his shoulders, head tilted back as he places another harsh mark on your throat. And he knows you’re close. Knows everything about you that it makes you want to weep in his arms and stay there with him—forever. 

Joel stops though. Edges you yet again and it makes you sob. He just doesn’t want to admit that with his age…he was also reaching the end a little earlier than he used to. It probably didn’t help with the way you moan his name, so sinful yet light— like it was the only word you knew how to speak. Or when you were so wet and drooling all over him; or clenching around him so tight he could see stars.

“Wanna hear you say it,” Joel breathes, fire and ice prickling along your skin. “Say you’re mine.” He adds with a hum against your throat. 

Joel stays completely still deep inside of you, throbbing against your velvet walls that scream for him to move. 

You bite down on your bottom lip, silencing yourself for a second before just absentmindedly obeying him and his words. You almost want to be difficult, to scream and yell at him that this wasn’t the time and place for his jealous ass to be taking over; but god was it hot. From the start, speaking next to no words to now panting hard against your skin, whispering the filthiest of things. 

“C’mon baby…” Joel chuckles softly, rolling his hips to dig deep inside of you– making stars dance across your eyes. “Say it. You’re fuckin’ mine.” 

You shiver in his grasp, releasing your bottom lip and letting your mouth fall open to speak what he (and you) both want to hear. “Yours!” You shout, nails digging into the thick of his shoulders. 

Joel hardly waits for you to catch your breath before he’s digging deep into your core again. His hips jut forward, picking up his pace the second that word leaves the tip of your tongue. He moves faster, thrusting harsher again and again into your pussy. You swear he’s hitting your womb in this position and it strips any air from your lungs. You feel him deeper and fuller than you’ve ever done so before and you already know you’re not going to last long with the sudden, brutal pace he sets. 

“Repeat it.” Joel growls. His grip on your hip tightens, using your body to meet every single one of his thrusts.

“Yours!” You gasp, legs locking tighter around his entire waist. You follow his lead with every single thrust, rolling into meet them. If your mouth was open, you’re sure you’d be drooling from the mind numbing pleasure running it’s coarse throughout your entire body. “Fuck! I’m yours, all yours Joel!” You babble, tears springing to the corner of your eyes. 

Joel chuckles deeply, skimming his lips from your throat, where he’s left your skin a blossom of reddening petals, to your jaw. “All mine. No one else gets you. Not ever again…” He mutters, leaning back ever so slightly so he can see your eyes. 

Unfocused as much as they are, Joel still captures your gaze. You briefly look into the warmth of his eyes before his lips capture yours. He kisses you once again, buried deep into your quivering cunt, setting a flame beneath your skin. 

It doesn’t take long now for your orgasm to spread through your entire womb. It blooms swiftly, taking hold of every one of your senses. His name sticks to your tongue as you coil up tighter around him. Your legs lock behind his back, your hands slide to cup the back of his neck as you kiss him deeper while your orgasm rocks through you. Your hips jerk wildly and you clench down hard around him, gasping between every small part of broken lips. 

Joel breaks the kiss this time, gasping wildly for air between clenched teeth. He growls, like a wild animal chasing after its prey, and bites down on his lip hard enough to bleed. He lets his head fall, forehead resting on top of your shoulder as he comes at the same time you do. He continues to roll into your gushing pussy, painting the insides with his own orgasm. Fucks you into overstimulation— broken sobs and the wet sound of splashing off skin echoes in your bedroom— until he’s entirely finished himself. 

Then silence stretches. Neither of you move, neither of you speak— only gasp for air. You continue to sit perfectly still in his lap, fingers rubbing into his sweaty skin. His own fingers run soothingly along your back. 

“I’m never letting you go again,” Joel breathes, breaking that built up silence, as he comes back down from his own high. His breath is warm across your body like a summer’s sun. “Never leavin’ you again.” 

The declaration makes your head lighter than your orgasm ever could. Joel was a different man. Muttering soft words you have never expected to hear from him. But the cherry on top that sends you spiraling into tears?

Three little words. 

“I love you.”

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

[lolitalovess]

loser vi headcannons because i can't get enough of her ♡

｡･ﾟ･♡･ﾟ･｡ loser vi who constantly needs to be in your space. has to lay her head on your stomach and write notes when you're studying together. has you slumped on her chest when she's playing a game on her ps4 (the sims, introducing you to her lesbian cat couple) or telling you to stop laughing at her when she gets stuck on a hard part in tlou.

loser vi who's so pussy drunk it's almost unbelievable. she's constantly asking to eat you out and giving you her puppy eyes, unzipping your jeans or pulling up your mini skirt with side of her face resting against your plush thigh. she can never chose between sucking and licking at your clit or fucking you with her tongue, acting like every time she eats pussy will be her last.

loser vi who has a kink for hair pulling (WHAT who said that...)

loser vi who gets a sore throat from moaning so much when you tug at her cherry pink hair, her hands holding onto the creaking headboard of her bed for support whilst you're fucking her from behind. she always complains about it after, making you baby her when she's sucking on one of those black current difflam lollies.

loser vi who's always washing and using those jewellery cleaning cloths on her rings after she's been around you because half the time she doesn't bother taking her rings off when she fingers you. partly because she can't be fucked, partly because you need her too bad, and party because the cold metal of them feels so good. you just have to try the same with her and watch how her face scrunches up when she feels the promise ring she got you in her pussy!!

loser vi who writes down every single time you two are gonna hang out, go on a date, meet, whatever on her calender with little hearts around your name, esp your birthday!! she is such a lover girl.

loser vi who squirts so easily. you'd be having a quickie in the bathroom of her dads bar after you told your friends the two of you were gonna have a cigarette and freshen up. miss girl is STRUGGLING to not moan or whine too loudly when her jeans and boxers are pulled down enough for you to press your nose to her clit when you're lapping at her pussy, laughing at her when she does squirt after you've cleaned her up.

loser vi who feels like she can cry every time she sees you and powder getting along. the two of you are so so important to her and she's so grateful that you two share so many interests together.

loser vi who's world revolves around your boobs. grabs them and puts her head under your shirt to kiss at them and bury her face in between them when you're laying together. constantly shifting her gaze between your face and chest when you wear a shirt that makes them look nice. she asks you to flash her again when you're changing. can and will be grabbing them during sex, doesn't matter the position. first time she saw them it was like she's never seen a pair. she loves your boobies and has attempted to fit one in her whole mouth before.

loser vi who is a slut cockwarming. doesn't matter who's on the receiving end. she likes sitting and straddling your lap anyway, it's so much more fun when she's got your strap inside you!! will whine when you tell her she's being a good girl, asking you to put aside whatever you're doing so she can kiss you and try to get away with rocking her hips.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Pssst...141!boys + König and their partners' father giving a "shovel talk"? Let's be real, if any of the boys heard their teammate was cheating or mistreating their partner, all respect would be out the windows and they'd beat the shit out of him themselves?

Firstly, and y’all can absolutely laugh at me about this, I could not comprehend what a “shovel talk” was. The term sounded familiar, and even with the rest of your request, I was still like “huh, weird.” And it wasn’t until I looked it up that it dawned on me. For real, I was looking like Winona Ryder in that one GIF of her where she’s looking around on stage at an award show like she has no idea what’s happening.

I’m going to split this up into two categories. With them “receiving” the talk from others and them “giving” the talk to someone.

MDNI

written w/ gn!reader

John Price

Receiving the talk: Quiet, stoic, and calm throughout the conversation. Speaks with a cool monotone, and doesn’t reveal how he’s truly feeling. Inwardly, he’s absolutely rolling his eyes because he would never, but doesn’t fault the person for threatening him. He might do the same in their shoes.

Giving the talk: Very clear with his messaging while not being overly blunt. Price is more likely to make a subtle threat than an outright one. He saves those sorts of threats for people who have actually wronged him or those he cares about.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Receiving the talk: Completely apathetic. He knows what kind of man he is and how he treats those he cares about. Kyle leads with integrity and he’s not going to simply put that aside. If anything, he might reassure the other person, or just agree with them. He’s not going to take it personally.

Giving the talk: Very casual and up front about it. Will make it more of a general conversation and won’t be confrontational about it. Kyle sees it more as a little reminder that he’s watching and keeping tabs.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Receiving the talk: He’s absolutely insulted that the talk is being had in the first place. Johnny prides himself on being a gentleman, and would never raise a hand to you anyway. So, the fact that someone is going out of their way to intimidate him honestly pisses him off. And he’s not afraid to tell that person off. Unless that someone is a peer he respects (like a member of 141). He’d be much more receptive if one of them talks to him.

Giving the talk: Will absolutely make a clear threat in an intentionally scary way and then it with a pat of the back and a joke.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Receiving the talk: Dead silent during the whole conversation. The kind of silent where he observers and listens and doesn’t contribute at all. Y’all know what I’m talking about. And this man isn’t crossing his arms at all or popping a hip. He’s standing there with his arms at his sides, unmoving. In fact, it’s so off-putting and intimidating that the person giving the talk is likely to wrap it up quick.

Giving the talk: Says the bare minimum…but he’s blunt, direct, and very clear in his messaging. Simon will absolutely make that threat with detail if he needs to.

König (Bonus)

Receiving the talk: König finds it funny that anyone thinks they can actually intimidate him over this. He’ll absolutely amuse the idea, and let the person talk, but he’s giving no signs that he’s taking them seriously or that he’s put out about by threatening him. And really, how can they? This man is all broad shoulders and height. If anything, he’s going to intimidate them.

Giving the talk: Will absolutely give the talk with a smile on his face and a few jokes. That doesn’t mean he’s any less intimidating. König positions himself in such a manner that he towers off the person he’s talking to. Sure, he’s giving the threat with a smile and a little light-hearted banter, but the meaning is the same, and that’s what ultimately matters.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

[mizusbabygirl]

no mercy 𝜗𝜚 • se-mi (player 380) x fem reader

wlw ────୨ৎ──── cw: rope bondage (reader receiving most of the time), strap usage, degradation kink, se-mi enjoys being called “noona” during sex, clit teasing, lazy 69ing, reader has attachment issues, se-mi could seem cold but she really does love you, reader is a bottom (send a request if you want me to make a fanfic where the reader is a top)

se-mi was tired of having the same type of sex every night with you. it was only you two either scissoring or fingering each other for hours and you two knew that y’all could do better than that.

“se-mi, where have you’ve been? i miss you”—

you hold your phone, close to your ear while calling se-mi. she hasn’t been home in many hours, it’s late at night and you began to get frustrated.

“i’ll be home soon but stop trying to call me all the time when i’m away from you, it’s annoying”—

call ends.

you didn’t get to say “goodbye” or “i love you” to her before she ended the call. it hurt you. you started pondering whether she might be cheating on you or just simply fed up with your guts. you didn’t want to cry or throw a tantrum over that inconvenience, so you got ready for bed and went to sleep alone, without her. you rolled around the empty bed, not being able to fall asleep.

just before you dozed off into an empty dream, you heard the apartment’s door unlock. your heart beat with joy and you immediately ran out of the room to go greet her. you were supposed to be mad at her but the look of her sweet face made you change your mind.

she gave you a quick kiss then walked away from you, setting down a plastic bag on the floor. you grab the bag but she pulls your hair back, making your hands lose hold of the bag. “i’ll show you what’s in this bag in our room,” se-mi let go of you and walked away from you.

she never acted like this before, nor ever tried to hurt you in any way. it’s not as if you didn’t like it, you just didn’t know how to feel about it. you make your way back into your room and find semi holding a long thin rope in her hands. she walked up to you and began kissing you, seeming desperate. “se-mi..” you broke the kiss with her. she looked at you, then she looked down at you and smiled.

both of you were now undressed, making out, the cold air from the ac made your nipples harden, as well as hers.

“i wanted to try something like this for so long with you, baby,” se-mi got out the long thin rope and started tying your hands behind your back, performing rope bondage on you.

the rope went in between your wet folds and up your ass, making you moan out. she slipped on her large black strap on and she spread open your legs, making the rope brush roughly against your pussy. she moved the rope aside and slipped her strap on inside.

you were only used to her finger fucking, but this was new. you never liked the idea of dick or anything to do with that but her strap on fucking made you change your mind.

“se-mi, why are you going so fast..? slow the fuck down..” se-mi interrupted you and slapped you across the face, “fucking bitch,” she continued fucking into your breeding hole showing no mercy.

you were fucking enjoying this, being tied up, getting fucked by her big black strap on, her showing her mean side to you for the first time.

her fucking made the rope split, releasing you. she didn’t care, she just continued fucking into you. your cervix was definitely going to be bruised after this but who is she to care anyway? she rubbed your bright red clit with one of her hands while the other was busy maintaining your legs open for her.

she accidentally pulled out, making her cock slide up against your clit making your pussy burst out with squirt. “noona..” you looked into her glossy eyes as you gasped out for air. her sharp gaze softened as she caressed your cheek and went in to kiss you.

you reached over and pulled down her strap. your brushed your fingers around her hole. her pussy twitching by the feeling of your cold fingers teasing her. as you were busy teasing her pussy, you felt her tongue slide around your pussy, causing you gasp out. se-mi grabbed your bottom and started to press her lips against your folds, darting her tongue into your pussy. you two were laying on your side, eating each other out like two starved animals. small whines escaping from both of your mouths, making the moment more arousing than your past sex sessions with her.

you got a glimpse of golden sunlight slowly lighting the room up as you were finishing eating her pussy. you couldn’t believe it, it was already morning.

your noona probably forgot to tell you that she was actually out for a long period of time because she was busy buying a strap on and a bondage rope from the local sex shop.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

the archer’s arrow part 2 (w.a.)

are you hiding something?

part one | next part

a/n: teehee i am so sorry for the wait but i hope y’all enjoy this one <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood & death

➶ ➶ ➶

thwip!

it was your arrow, definitely your arrow.

“go! wednesday! go!”

and your voice, definitely your voice.

wednesday gasped awake, sitting up instantaneously. she gripped her chest, bunching the fabric of her shirt up into a fist. her head turned to look at her alarm clock.

she was awake ahead of schedule but she was grateful she woke up when she did. she immediately got dressed, the stomping of her boots lining the walls of ophelia hall.

she reached your room, knocking thrice before stepping back.

you were already dressed, today was an early practice day.

“wednesday, you’re early.” you tilted your head, stepping aside to let her in anyways.

“i value punctuality.” she lied. she was getting better at coming up with them in her efforts to try and hide her true intentions from you.

a bit of her looked disheveled, like she had rushed to get there. you noticed her braid a little out of place and her socks mismatched— both black but definitely not from the same pair.

“right. well, let me finish this and i’ll be ready to go.” you took to your chair at your desk, settling back down.

wednesday noticed that there were a couple of envelopes littered across your desk. you were in the process of writing letters.

“you’re writing.” she pointed out.

“yes, wednesday. thats something i can do too.” you joked back, she remained stoic.

“what are the letters for?” she inquired.

“mainly family but also for some of my friends at the academy.”

“i understand your family lives remote but surely your friends have phones?” she furrowed her brows.

“they do, but we think letters hold more sentiment.” you clarified, scribbling more words onto the piece of parchment paper you had aquired. “and it’s always nice to receive things in the mail.” you shrugged.

“i suppose you might be right.” she agreed. you were surprised to hear her validation.

her eyes followed the ink that your pen left behind. it caught her attention particularly when you drew a heart next to someone’s name on the envelope.

you sealed the letter and then proceeded to stand, grabbing your gear from your closet. you opened the door for wednesday, allowing her to exit first.

you two walked side-by-side down to the practice range.

“did you have many friends at the academy?” she asked as you exited ophelia hall.

“many? not many. but a good handful. they were all very kind. i would love to know them forever.” you smiled, reminiscing at the memories you shared with them.

“any more than friends?” she asked, not looking at you. you looked at her with your lip curled. at the back of your mind, you questioned her curiosity about your romantic life.

“who’s asking?” you retaliated, a smirk plastered on your face. you glanced at her only to be met with a glare. you knew you would certainly meet your end if you left the question unanswered.

“yes, wednesday. i had a girlfriend.” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. it was a bit of a sore spot, this topic.

but wednesday cared not for sore spots.

“what happened?” she pryed further. why was she pushing those buttons so much?

the memories of her rejection flooded through your brain. she had no right to ask these things. you remember how the look on your face was probably the single most heartbreaking thing most of your fellow students have ever seen.

“why are you asking about this, wednesday?” you practically hissed at her.

“i’m not going to take advantage of your practice times and not get to know you.” she spat back.

“you… hm.” you paused. “i never thought i’d be answering questions from wednesday addams. you’ve changed too.”

“so answer them if my question intrigue you so much.” she continued walking at your pace.

“fine. we split up because i wanted to come back and we couldn’t do the long distance.” you answered openly. “but we’re still friends. she and i were very close, she helped me through a lot.”

you continued to stride towards the forest as wednesday simply watched you. you had someone, but were fine giving it all up to come back. the feeling opened a pit in her stomach, if only you had known what she was hiding.

—

she had taken a liking to your routines in the wilderness.

“i purposefully try to miss.”

you had told her that was the closest thing you could get to immersing yourself into your environment. murder of fauna in the nevermore woods was frowned upon, so you had to learn control.

“isn’t that counter productive?”

she asked back, but you proved her wrong. your control was incredible. nicking a squirrel by the hair of its tail, she watched the focus on your face as you tried to ensure it’s life.

“it’s harder to hunt down animals and make sure they live rather than die.”

today, she sat with a notebook. she said she just wanted to focus on writing up ideas for her novel while you practiced.

it was like she was your body double, just a shadow that lingered around while you did your thing. somehow, it worked. you felt more productive and so did she…

if she was working on her novel.

her pen glazed across the yellowed paper on her notebook. the ink morphed into the image of your bow. on paper, your body was facing the trees, arm reaching for an arrow from your quiver. wednesday captured your physique, how your body flexed with every move you made.

thwip!

wednesday did not flinch.

but she nearly did.

an arrow lodged into the tree trunk, directly above her head.

“i can literally feel your stare, wednesday. you’re making me nervous.” you teased. her eyes grew dark at you.

“try that again and you won’t have fingers to shoot an arrow with.”

you couldn’t help but smile at her empty threat. you knew wednesday more than either of you thought. you knew that she wouldn’t take your fingers, they would stay with you.

you drew your bow again, pointing an arrow straight at her jokingly.

“try me, addams!”

the statement made wednesday’s head shoot backwards, her eyes clouding over.

“try me addams!” you yelled at her. you were younger. your cheeks were fuller, you hadn’t quite grown into your face yet.

but there you were, back then, the object of wednesday addams’ affection. but she could never admit that then.

you were on your back, pinned against the ground with wednesday on top of you. she remembers this fondly, she was trying to steal back her hairties that you had stolen as a joke.

you were laughing. it was the most joyous she’d ever seen you. she didn’t know how she was getting that reaction from you.

she was reaching as you held the ties above your head, swinging your arm around to make sure she didn’t get it. she was growing frustrated.

she groaned and drove two of her fists down into your chest, robbing your body of air. you coughed as a response and caved in, handing her the hairties.

“okay addams!” you choked out, sitting up to be closer to the girl. you laughed softly, coming face to face with her. “i just wanted to play a prank on you.”

“pranks are a waste of your time. you have better things to do.” she said, standing up. “you’re going to be late for practice.” she looked down at you. you remained seated.

“they’re not a waste of my time if it means i get to spend time with you.” you said, honestly. sure, you were mildly flirting but you were geniune. wednesday didn’t know how to process the admitted desire for companionship. she returned the sentiment, but it wouldn’t come out of her.

“i’ll come to your practice then.” wednesday said, putting the hairties in her bag. “i’ll sit there and wait for you.” she held her hand out for you to take so she could help you up.

you grinned up at her from where you were.

that grin, she would have killed for it.

“deal!” you jumped up excitedly, a proud smile on your face. you took her hand to stabilise yourself.

and it was then she got her first vision of you.

you were older now. definitely older.

you were still in the forest, holding wednesday’s hand just like how you were in the real world.

your bow was in your left hand, like you had just come from battle. blood was dripping down from your ears.

you had blood staining your shirt. and it looked bad. something most people wouldn’t be able to recover from.

and it flickered between the image of your eyes crickling from how huge your smile was and the sight of you donning crimson in front of wednesday.

“wednesday!” you cried out to her, catching her in your arms.

and then she was back to reality.

“wednesday!”

a vision of a future in a vision of the past? that was new for her. her powers might have been trying to tell her something— something more urgent.

she remembers leaving you alone at practice that day, taking back her deal to you. she had to sit alone and process.

three days later, she broke your heart.

“you still get those often?” you asked, sitting her down against the tree trunk.

“of course i do.” she snapped, her conscience pounding from the double vision she just had.

“sorry, stupid question.” you said, regretfully. you sat in front of her, still holding her back to steady her. “do you want to talk about it?”

she hated how you cared.

“no.” she shook her head. “it was just… nothing. nothing important.”

“you and i both know your visions have saved countless lives, wednesday.” the way you said her name had her head reeling. “is there something we should be worrying about?”

“no… no.” she waved you off, pushing you away. you sat there nonetheless.

“okay well… are you feeling okay?” you worriedly questioned her.

“i would feel better if you stopped asking questions.”

you recoiled, knowing it was best not to provoke her like this. her heart twisted at your concern, they made her feel almost guilty for pushing you so far away.

she had broken you down slowly, she knew that now. you poured your heart into your affectionate manner, it was something that scared her.

you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings and letting her recover from the vision. you were around when she first started getting them, you knew how badly they affected her.

she almost wanted to apologise, tell you that she was sorry for snapping. but she couldn’t let you get close again.

“we should go soon, lunch is in 30 minutes.” you spoke up first, breaking the peace. she simply nodded at you, helping herself up. you followed suit, yanking the arrow you had previously stabbed into the tree out and putting it back into your quiver.

➶ ➶ ➶

you sat across from wednesday. she recalled a time you would fight for the seat beside her, but instead, you filled the space next to yoko.

“you’re already thinking about the rave’n?” you asked enid, munching away at your food in between sentences.

“of course i am!” enid jumped up. “it’s our last year here! we need to think about these things!” she turned to you and grabbed your hands.

“and it’ll be your first & last rave’n back! we have to make it good!” she squeezed your hands. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“okay well, you’ll help me shop then.” you held your pinky up, which the blonde gladly took in her own.

“good! and you, wednesday?” enid turned to the shorter girl, tilting her head.

“my rave’n experiences haven’t exactly been pleasant, enid.” wednesday brushed her off. “maybe this is the year i skip out.”

“you shouldn’t. i would like you there if it’s my first one back and last one i’ll ever have.” you said, forgetting that such desires were usually turned down by wednesday.

but that was somehow enough to convince her.

“fine.” she grumbled, a contrast to the smile that was now stuck to your face.

“never thought that would be so easy. you must be the sentimental type, addams.” yoko commented. the mental image in wednesday’s head was her brutally bashing the vampire for saying that.

“do you know the theme?” you asked enid. the werewolf was finally asked to head the planning of the rave’n, she was perfect for the job.

“yup! since it’s halloween— we’re doing guts & gore!”

you swear you saw wednesday nearly crack a smile, this was right up her alley.

“and glitter!” enid added in, you were unsure if she was joking.

the joy on wednesday’s face faded slowly, you softly laughed at the change of expression.

“don’t worry, addams. i’m sure you’ll look fine bedazzled.” you joked, snickering. yoko laughed beside you.

she glowered at you, your smile persisted. did she no longer have an affect on you in these situations?

you really had grown.

“i would rather choke and die before covering myself in sparkles.” she took an angry bite of her food.

“don’t worry, wends, i’ll forgive you this once.” enid giggled. “gore is still your element, i’m sure it will be reminiscent of your first rave’n.“

“i heard about that.” you chimed in. “pig’s blood, right? maybe you can work with real blood this time, nobody seems to know the difference. and you’d probably enjoy that better.” you had said that almost too casually, it bothered her.

she was like an old book you hadn’t picked up yet still knew the insides and outs of.

“yes. maybe i will.” she answered briefly. you returned to your meal, finishing up and picking your bookbag up.

“gotta go, i have some botany homework to catch up on.” you said, turning to wednesday quickly. “did you want to join me for archery club later?” you asked.

she paused for a second, debating her answer.

“no, i can’t. i have homework i need to do in my room.” christ! why did she say that? she meant to say yes!

perhaps it was her defense mechanism, she wanted to keep you at arm’s length after what happened in the forest today. she needed some time to process.

“no worries. i’ll see you guys later!” you jogged off and waved as you left.

“is it weird hanging around her again?” yoko asked, she realised she hadn’t talked to wednesday about your return much.

“i suppose.” wednesday nodded. she had grown closer to yoko overtime, finding herself being honest towards her. “she’s changed a lot.”

“i mean, yeah. her entire environment changed in a whim. that makes you grow up.” yoko agreed. “you two seem to be getting along just fine.”

“indeed. but we can never go back to how we used to be.” wednesday tried to put up a front. “i’m sure she wouldn’t want that either.”

“given how you tore her heart in half last time you saw her? i wouldn’t put it past her.” yoko sighed, “but you can’t hold it against her forever.”

“i can and i will.” wednesday scoffed. yoko squinted at her.

“are you hiding something?” the vampire asked. yoko had an excellent talent for reading people, it infuriated the addams girl.

“no.” wednesday responded firmly, standing up abruptly and gathering her things. “i have to go. i’ll talk to you both later.”

enid and yoko shot each other worried looks.

wednesday stomped off to her room, a scowl evident on her face.

she hated this. all of it.

she hated that her visions were getting stronger, they were so loud that they were making her entire body hurt.

she hated that she would once again become responsible for saving someone, she was always thrust into the world of the weird. was it such a crime that she wanted some normalcy?

she hated you. she hated that she was forced to reject you in order to prevent your impending doom.

she hated you. she hated you for returning and making her feel things again.

she hated you. she hated that she was terrified of your death.

she hated you. she hated you. she hated you.

but she had to save you.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

okay i’m soooo sorry this took ages! and that this is relatively short! but i was in the middle of quitting my job and planning my christmas trip to see my family!

i’ll let y’all in on the reader’s powers more in the upcoming chapters but she is definitely a psychic!

i also am sooo excited for halloween!!! i’m going as wednesday this year and i also bought from the doc martens x wednesday collaboration so i’m so so keen on getting it in.

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter & hopefully chapter 3 will be out before you all know it!

kisses xx

[azzifuddfanpage]

I have yet to see a fanfic featuring the famous love and basketball scene .. where they play 1v1 in the dorm for clothes. So strip basketball. So do with this what you will.

Love and basketball

————

2.6k words

p receiving * if u wanna see Azzi receiving I did the same story but switched it around so Azzi was receiving 🫶 Tw: smut/ swearing

themes: strip basketball/ p receiving

————

It was a Friday night after summer preseason workouts, everyone had for the most part retired to their own rooms, except for kk, ice, and Jana who’s voices carried through the living room.

Over the summer, the girls had no other commitments aside from their practices that were three times a day. Morning shoot around, weight room , practice, weight room again, then a break, and a couple hours later weight room again, scrimmages, and recovery. By the end of the day, the entire team was wiped.

Often Paige and Azzi would use this as an opportunity to “accidentally” fall asleep in each other dorms (usually paige’s since it was cleaner). They would start with a movie and eventually fall asleep- this would have happened either way.

It was perfect though, the perfect plan, for the perfect summer, of the perfect season where both paige and Azzi would be back and full strength together- nothing was stopping them from their championship now.

——— 

Tonight paige and Azzi were cuddled up watching love and basketball- their favorite movie. 

Paige could feel Azzi’s head sink down on her shoulder, heightened with sleep. Paige smiled contently to herself, wrapping her arm around the peaceful brunette.

About an hour and 12 minutes into the movie 😉-paige knew this by heart, the strip scene came up. 

She looked down at Azzi smirking, Azzi who was almost asleep opened one eye, feeling paige’s gaze on her. 

“Oh my god paige enough- no- I’m tired.” Azzi said rolling her eyes and nuzzling herself farther into paige’s chest.

“Come on Azzi it would be fun.” Paige whined pulling away so Azzi was forced to sit up. 

“No paige not tonight.” Azzi pouted pulling away pillow down and putting her head on that defiantly.

Paige smirked, she wasn’t giving up that easily.

Paige simply leaned backl agaisnt the head board. 

“I mean you’re right since I would probably win anyway. Paige snickered folding her arms above her head teasingly.

Azzi looked up, her eyes being drawn to the gap of bear skin showing between the band of her sweatpants and her shirt, she could make out the faint pink of the thong she was wearing. Azzi could have sworn her mouth was literally watering, desperate for it to be on paige’s pussy.

After a few minutes of a strong internal battle, Azzi gave in.

“Fine but only because I’m gonna win.” Azzi stated sliding off the bed to grab paige’s mini basketballs from across the room.

Paige smirked as Azzi bent over to grab them, but was caught as Azzi turned around before she could look away. 

“Wow the game hasn’t even started and you’re already undressing me with your eyes.” Azzi laughed, throwing the ball to hit paige in the head.

“Ya whatever, it’s gonna happen eventually anyway because I’m gonna win.” Paige said throwing the ball in the air and catching it.

Azzi laughed making her way over to paige.

“So same rules?” Azzi asked. “You make a shot, I take something off. I score, you take something off.” Azzi continued crawling on the bed so she was straddling paige.

Paige gulped, the heat between her legs was already growing and she couldn’t help herself but secretly want to loose so Azzi would win and touch her.

“Nah it’s too easy little miss sharpshooter,” paige started, “I say we make it harder… I make a shot, you have to make it the same way, if you don’t get it you take a piece of clothing off- one of my choosing- and then you make a shot and I have to make it from the same spot, if I miss, you take a piece off me. By the end whoever is completely naked gets strapped.” Paige finished confidently.

“Wow I didn’t realize you were okay with being strapped.” Azzi laughed leaning forward and rubbing her finger along paige’s upper lip.

“Who says I’m gonna be strapped?” Paige said shocked putting a hand to her heart as if she had been stabbed.

Azzi laughed and rolled over off of paige’s stomach so they were laying side by side next to the door. 

“Ladies first” Azzi smirked, causing paige to pout.

“Hey I’m supposed to be saying that to you.” Paige whined glaring at Azzi who was laughing at her. 

“Are you not a lady?” Azzi asked.

Paige just rolled her eyes, “ugh fine whatever. We can start easy baby don’t worry.” Paige smirked, sitting up in the bed and shooting the mini basketball at the net on her door.

“Swish”

“Nothing but net” paige said triumphantly. 

“Wow someone must have been practicing.” Azzi laughed. “You would absolutely kill those 5 year old boys who also have these in their rooms.” Azzi continued arcing the ball and throwing it up so it splashed through the net barely missing the rim.

“That was okay I guess- maybe less rim next time but it’s okay!” Paige smiled. 

Azzi rolled her eyes. 

“Alright tough guy.” Azzi huffed. She lay back on the bed so she was horizontal, and through the ball up so it would swish through the net.

“Easy” paige said confidently, matching her form, laying down, and shooting the ball right into the net. 

“Get ready to take off that shirt.” She continued, not wasting a minute. 

Staying in the same position, head against the pillow, she looked at Azzi and shot the ball without looking, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. 

Both of them could feel the charge in the air, it was strong, and it made it hard for Azzi to focus- as she could feel paige’s warm breath against her neck. 

“Swish”

“Alright baby let’s see it.” Paige smirked getting ready to collect her prize.

Just as she expected the ball bounced in and out. 

“YES! LETS FUKCING GO” paige shouted leaping upright to watch with wide eyes as Azzi lifted the shirt over her shoulders.

Paige was staring at her white sports bra, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

She licked her lips.

“your turn Azzi.” She said, her voice a little softer now that the game was getting more real. 

Azzi smirked, switching the ball to one hand and lobbing it at the net, her form a little less graceful- but it still sunk through the net. 

“Damn I don’t even know how the fuck you just made that with that form.” Paige laughed. “You’re lucky Geno wasn’t here.” She continued, lining herself to take her shot. 

“No trust me. You’re lucky.” Azzi whispered into her ear as the ball left her hand and rattled off the rim.

“Bruh you are such a cheater. You messed me up.” Paige whined irritated. 

“I didn’t do a thing.” Azzi said laughing as Paige pouted. Thank god she was so easy to fluster.

“Oh and you can take off your shirt too.” Azzi said sizing paige up.

Paige huffed leaning up in the bed and pulling off her t shirt so she was wearing only her sports bra as well. 

Paige was a little more rattled now than she liked to admit. She took her shot, turning around and throwing it over her head. 

It rattled out of the net.

“Now why would you even think that would go in….” Azzi laughed. “Why do I feel like you just want to be strapped at this point.” She continued turning around and lining herself up. 

She needed to make this, who knew if she would ever get this opppirtunity again. She leaned back and through the ball over her head.

By some how, the ball magically swished through the net.

“Are you fucking kidding??? How the fuck did you just make that.” Paige groaned throwing her head back against the pillow. 

Azzi’s breath hitched at the slight flex of paige’s jaw. She loved when she got all competitive like this. 

“Just motivated I guess.” Azzi said as she ran her fingers along paige’s jaw. 

Paige was irritated now, if Azzi was going to cheat, this wouldn’t be as much fun as she thought. How was she going to control herself with Azzi sitting so close with her half naked.

Paige grumbled and pulled off her bra, her perky breasts popping out, the cold air hardening her nipples. She was siked out now. 

She watched as Azzi’s eyes glaanced over her body lovingly, paige could feel the wetness grow between her legs- she was screwed if she had to take off her pants.

Azzi kept her eyes on her and sunk another one. Paige couldn’t help herself but feel a chill run along her body. 

She was embarrassed at the effect Azzi was having on her, so early too. Paige kept her eyes on Azzi trying to mimic her no look shot, but her eyes couldn’t help but wander to Azzi’s lips, distracted by their plumpness and the way Azzi’s tongue ran cross them, wetting them. 

Paige shot the ball, and even without looking new it didn’t go in as she could see the satisfaction all over Azzi’s face. 

Azzi smirked. “You need help with your pants P?” Azzi laughed as she could see paige’s cheeks redden instantly. 

“No actually I don’t.” Paige huffed. Reaching down and pulling her pants down her legs and throwing them across the room and landing them in the hamper. 

“Now if only your shots would fall like that in the net” Azzi smirked her eyes trailing down paige’s body and landing on her pink thong. 

“Fucking knew you were wearing those you slut.” Azzi teased. 

“Whatever” paige said trying to keep a straight face but part of her was crumbling at Azzi’s words. 

Paige leaned forward onto her stomach, teasing Azzi as she arched a little, feeling confident as she could hear Azzi’s breath catch in her throat. 

She through the ball up underhand and smiled to herself as it arced and landed in the net.

Azzi crawled over, a little rattled from paige’s sudden boldness, and repeated her motion.

Unfortunately the ball rimmed a couple times and fell out, bouncing off the rim. 

“Got what you wanted huh.” Azzi said as she pulled her bra off over her head letting her perfect tits spill out. 

Paige smirked staring at the beautiful girl in front of her. 

“Knew you wouldn’t last long against me.” Paige sneered reaching for Azzi’s breasts. 

“Hey no touchjng til after.” Azzi said, pulling away. 

“You’re right, the victory will feel better when the first thing that touches you is my strap.” Paige smirked confidently, as Azzi lined herself up for her shot sinking it in.

She turned to paige seductively. 

Paige began to line herself up with the net, Azzi smirked and leaned in towards her ear. 

“Gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you aren’t I.” Azzi practically moaned in her ear. 

Paige, completely shocked by Azzi’s choice of words through the ball up and watched as it bounced off the rim. 

“Fuck” paige said under her breath. 

“It’s okay Paigey I’ll be gentle.” Azzi winked, getting up from the bed and making her way over to the closet. 

“You’re such a cheater.” Paige whined, throwing herself against the bed and putting her arms over her face. 

Azzi returned and crept towards paige.

She took of the remainder of her clothes and slid on the harness.

“Take your pants off paige.” Azzi said dominantly, inching towards her.

Once paige’s pants were off, and she lay in front of her completely bare, Azzi couldn’t help but let her eyes wonder all over her body. She traced every birthmark, every freckle with her eyes, trying to paint a permanent picture in her mind. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Azzi sighed as she climbed onto the bed and crawled up so her hips were over paige’s mouth. 

“Sit up and suck.” Azzi ordered, shoving it towards paige’s mouth. 

Irritated, paige did as she was told. 

At first she was a little more timid, licking the tip and putting the head in her mouth, but she got more confident and began to feel the strap hit the back of her throat. 

“Doing so good for me baby.” Azzi moaned as she watched paige look up at her with big needy eyes. 

Azzi pulled the strap out of her with a pop. And ran the tip along her bare stomach, leaving a trail of her own saliva all the way down to her clit.

She rubbed a few tight circles against her already puffy clit, and watched as paige wiggled underneath her. 

“Fuck Azzi just put it in oh my god.” Paige groaned trying to move her hips so the strap was directly above her entrance. 

Azzi laughed, “should have made better shots huh baby.” 

“Give me a break Azzi you were literally cheating.” Paige whined as Azzi ran the strap through her folds.

“Fine whatever, you can call it cheating, I call it using my resources, but what’s done is done. You are going to take this strap and let me fuck you, and you are going to be a good girl. 

Paige whimpered at her words, nodding her head submissively. 

With that Azzi thrust the strap into her, causing paige to let out a gasp at the unfamiliar pressure. 

She wasn’t used to this feeling of being filled up. She tried to adjust to the thickness inside of her, but Azzi pulled out quickly. 

Paige caught her breath, but was a series of moans again as Azzi began to play with her clit. 

“Taking me so well baby.” Azzi said as she slid the strap back into her, watching as her soaping pussy sucked it in. 

Paige moaned and wiggled under her touch. 

She could feel the strap banging into her walls as Azzi sped up her pass, thrusting into her with more force.

Paige groaned, her fingers crawling at Azzi’s back, begging Azzi to push deeper inside of her.

“I’m so close holy fuck.” Paige moaned, feeling her walls start tighten and clamp around the strap. 

Right as she was nearing release Azzi pulled out.

Paige was startled, “wha- why did you do that. Fuck Azzi” paige started but was cut off when Azzi told her to get on all fours.

Desperate to reach her climax, paige did as she was told, getting onto all fours and arching her back to give Azzi access to her pink pussy. 

Paige wiggled her butt, desperate for Azzi to fill her up again, and before she new it, Azzi was pounding back into her with so much force paige could have sworn she was ripping through her cervix. 

“FUCK DONT STOP RIGHT THERE” paige shouted as Azzi hit her g spot. 

Paige could feel herself loose control, her cum spilling out and down her legs.

Azzi moved her fingers to start to rub against her clit, pulling the strap out, letting the rest of paige’s cum pour out of her and onto the sheets. 

Paige flipped over onto her stomach, her breathing ragged as she stared up at Azzi who was continuing to ride out her high. 

“Did so good for me baby.” Azzi said leaning down to press a kiss to paige’s sensitive clit. 

“Don’t get used to this.” Paige smirked as Azzi lay down next to her. 

“Ya we will see about that.” Azzi challenged snuggling back up against paige. 

[floralmelancolie]

how bratty are the hashira?

uwaa .. >.<

sub hashira x reader (no muichiro), gn!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ shinazugawa sanemi

read: my other post. sanemi is peak bratiness. he’s a menace and unwilling to be put in his place, with a deep love for being manhandled. his body can take so much and he can still be smug about it. deep in his heart, however, sanemi is a mega whore and adores to be pushed until he breaks, babbling tearfully on your dick and gripping tight onto the sheets with hiccups and whines of “too much”.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ uzui tengen + hinatsuru, makio, suma

tengen loves attention. he’s bratty in the way he’ll act out to get it, especially for a guy who spends most of his time being a service top to you and your other partners. tengen will bend over to show off the tight stretch of fabric over his pert ass, or even try to act dominate towards you to make you put him in his place, cheekily groping at hinatsuru, a passing smack to suma’s ass, or a nibble on makio’s earlobe. you four already know what he’s begging for— it’s just a matter of pushing him down and playing with his most sensitive areas to get him to apologize for being a tease.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ iguro obanai

obanai loves to mock you during sex, to goad you on to pounding him harder. he’ll use a pissy tone and mean words as you thrust up into him, pressing down on his stomach with his hand to show you where he really needs you to be. tame him with kindness. deep passionate thrusts, holding onto his small hips tightly, marking bruises along his waistline. he’ll be at a loss for words, brooding silently as he embraces that you won’t give in to his urges for rough treatment. but he secretly adores it it when you take him apart with loving touches.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ kocho shinobu

personally shinobu to me is the essence of power bottom. she tends to play with your body more than she allows you to play with hers, and like the others, she’s a tease. she’ll wear your favorite shade of lip stain, and act like she doesn’t know what she’s doing to you. shinobu pokes and prods at you in public, hoping for you to take her to a more isolated place and bury your head between her legs, to tongue fuck her until she can’t think to be naughty anymore.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ rengoku kyojuro

kyojuro is too squirmy and needy for his own good. he’s a bit of a tease, but backs down at a warning without a need for punishment. he gets a little pouty when you’re slow and gentle with him, but melts anyways at the love you lave over his body. kyojuro looooves punishment when you do give it to him, but he won’t act out to receive it. just be sure if you do punish him to hold him lovingly after.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ kanroji mitsuri

mitsuri is a good girl but i believe that she’d be unintentionally bratty. she’s eager and squirmy, and will definitely try to rush you to chase her own pleasure. a quick smack on the thigh or a harder suck on her nipple will put her back into line. she’d like overstimulation and punishments, however— tie a vibrator to her clit and punish her when she comes, or if she acts without permission.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tomioka giyuu

giyuu is a lay there and feel type of sub. he gets too overwhelmed to try and act out, and enjoys being taken care of and letting you lead in the bedroom. he barely even makes noises during sex, asides from the occasional whine or soft whimper. i don’t think he’d be against being punished for something or anything like impact play, but he’s not bratty.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ himejima gyomei

gyomei has too deep of a desire to please you to be bratty. he enjoys the current roles you two have when it comes to dom/sub stuff, and i can’t see him going against the grain of trying to take the lead or goading you into anything. he enjoys the comfortability of your dynamic too much. he wouldn’t like punishment play either. sex is too emotional and vulnerable for gyomei. he’s baring himself to you, and would like to be cherished and played with gently.

[seresinhangmanjake]

kind of an angsty prompt, reader is one of feyd’s more “unpopular” concubines, never actually having been acknowledged by him and as a result is treated pretty badly since she is seen as “undesirable”. but one day when house harkonnen is having a celebration and other houses are invited, she catches the attention of paul atreides, who is desperate to take her as his own. the baron concedes, since feyd doesn’t pay her any attention, but over the years feyd gets to know more about her personality and falls for her, as she has more power as paul’s sole concubine and can assert herself much better than when she was his. kinda a “didn’t know what you had till you lost it situation”.

The Only One

Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader

Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. The chronology of this is all messed up from the movies. People are alive who wouldn’t be, but just go with it. People being owned. Feyd is grumpy boy. Slight smut, so 18+. Angsty-ish, but lighter ending. Cursing.

Words: 3300

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Your mother once told you that love was wonderful. Just like that. Simple words, as if factual, as if love were so stunningly special that it didn’t need flowery language to prove it’s worth. Love is wonderful and one day you will see so for yourself. That’s what she said. But what did she know, really. She was a blip in the universe who promised you would partake in an experience that has done you more harm and little good. This love she spoke of—you’ve seen it. Worse, you’ve felt it. And it is nothing like she described. It has been anything but wonderful. 

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen does not love you. In fact, if he were to love at all, you wouldn’t even make the list of potential receivers of that love. There are many in line before you. Three, to be exact—his harpies. Were he capable of love, he would love them. They are the ones he visits in the night, not you. They are the ones he keeps at his side, not you. Like you, they are owned by him, but unlike you, they are paraded around while you are cast aside. 

You don’t know why he claimed you if he was never going to use you. He declared you a concubine—effectively forbidding any hands other than his on your body—only to leave you untouched for the better part of a year. Untouched. Unloved, in every sense of the word. 

Perhaps it is because you are not like them. You’re not from Giedi Prime and you fumbled to learn their customs, and maybe that was too unattractive. Maybe all he saw in you was a fool failing to adjust to the life he leads, and maybe he could not look past that to see how hard you were trying for him. 

Since you became his property, all you’ve wanted is for him to like you. Not even reciprocate the love you harbor, but simply enjoy your presence and come to you every once in a while rather than allowing the harpies to tend to him. It doesn’t seem like too much to hope for, but you know better. He doesn’t care for you. He paid no attention to you as your heart attached itself to him, and yet it attached with mighty strength anyway. 

You’ve stopped pretending like you don’t know where that leaves you. For some time, you played the mental game. He could grow to love me…one day. If only he paid me a second of attention, he would see my devotion and realize I'm what he’s always wanted. Fairytale stuff used to deflect your fate. But you know your fate, and it isn’t a life by the side of the cruel-hearted man you've come to love. It’s a life alone. 

—

“Care for a drink?” you hear. 

Without looking in the direction of the voice, you say, “No, thank you,” having been taught that as the sole acceptable answer to a man’s advances. No, because you belong to him. Thank you, because rudeness can start wars. 

“You’ve been standing here all night,” the voice continues. “You have to be thirsty.”

He must know who you are by now. The Hakonnens have hosted grand events before, and you’ve always been present. If the men who have approached you in the past did not know who owned you, they would learn rather quickly. A word from a nearby guard and a glance into Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s glare and those men would back off. 

You look Feyd’s way. He’s busy with the harpies. No glare in sight.

“My House brought our finest wines. I can guarantee you would enjoy a taste.”

You can barely hold back your groan. Your head whips in the direction of the voice. “Thank you, but–” You cut yourself off with a gasp.

Paul Atreidies chuckles. The emperor chuckles. “Bring her a glass,” he says to a Harkonnen servant. The servant hesitates for a second, which only you seem to detect. He has no choice but to obey the emperor, yet doing so may cost him his life. Yet, he heads off, disappearing into the crowd toward the refreshments.

“I apologize,” you say as you bow your head in shame. 

His finger crooks under your chin and lifts so your eyes have to meet his. “A pretty face should never be to the ground. Even a concubine’s.”

“You know who I am.”

“Of course I do,” he says. “I’ve seen you before.”

You flush with embarrassment. If he’s noticed you before, then he’s noticed you alone before, standing in this exact spot against the wall. And if he’s noticed you and is willing to talk to you, then he likely pities you. To have the emperor’s pity—a gift or a sign of weakness?

The servant returns, handing you a glass half filled with a deep maroon liquid. Paul Atreides lifts his own glass and clinks it against yours. The rim meets his lips. He takes his sip and then smiles as he watches you do the same. 

He raises a brow. “Good?” You nod. “Good. Would you like more?”

“No,” you reply after hastily swallowing. “Thank you.”

He grins again and then turns so you’re shoulder to shoulder, staring out into the mass of mingling bodies. “I don’t enjoy these,” he says. “My birthdays are more intimate affairs.”

You don’t know what he’s getting at, but insulting the birthday of the Baron’s most promising nephew makes your stomach drop. Were the man beside you not the emperor, and had anyone overheard him, he would have a blade run through him by the end of the night. 

“What good is spending your birthday with people you do not love and who do not love you?” he says, and with great restraint, you keep from spitting that a Harkonnen cannot love and so it makes no difference to them who is around. Then he says, “You know, I could make sure you always have plenty.” 

When you look at him, his head nudges to the glass in your hand. Your heart thumps. “I–I don’t understand what you mean,” you tell him, hoping that what you think you understand from his words is wildly incorrect. 

“You could be mine,” he tells you. “I would like for you to be mine. I would actually touch you, unlike him.” Unlike the man whose neglect has rendered you useless. 

“Surely your wife would not be pleased.”

“She’s used to it,” he says. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’ve heard of the famous Chani. “I intend to ask the Baron for you. Out of politeness, of course.” Because he could just take you if he wanted. He is the emperor, after all. But rudeness… “Would you like that?”

Not unless you like being separated from the organ that keeps your body alive. But then again, that organ has been mutilated to the point that not much else could damage it. 

Your eyes dart to Feyd. He’s watching you from his seat across the room, his blue irises darkened. He cannot do anything about the closeness of Paul Atreides. He wouldn’t, you know, but if he wanted to, he couldn’t. A harpy runs her hand across his cheek. A lump forms in your throat. You look away. 

“I think I would,” you answer. 

—

“He can’t have her!” 

You can hear him through the grand doors. You’re not supposed to be here, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know his reaction to you leaving, but you didn’t expect this. You figured he’d send a servant to pack up your belongings and set them by the entrance of the fortress right before shoving you outside with his own two hands. 

“He can,” the Baron says. Something crashes against a wall. Its pieces clink as they hit the ground. 

“She belongs to me! She’s mine!” Feyd shouts. “She–”

“You don’t use her. She’s no great loss to you. If the harpies are insufficient, you can find another elsewhere, but this one now belongs to the Emperor.”

“He's forcing her,” Feyd says. “He's stealing her from me!”

You wonder if anyone other than Paul Atreides knows the truth: that you were offered a chance to leave and have decided to take it. You’re not being stolen. The Emperor did not remove the collar around your neck simply to replace it with one of his own. He asked; you said yes. 

“She agreed,” the Baron answers, effectively ending your curiosity. It shocks you, not seeming like information necessary for an Emporer to tell one of his subjects. “Not that it matters,” he says, and you agree. 

“Make him give her back to me!”

“I’m not interested in increasing tensions between our Houses over some concubine, nephew. Find yourself a new one.”

You know he will. It won’t take him long, and he might actually put his hands on this one. You ignore the clench in your stomach at the thought of his touch on someone other than the harpies. Maybe she would be more like you—color to her cheeks, hair on her head. You hope you never meet her. It’ll make you sick. It would mean it really has been you. All this time, you were the problem. You were the defective one. Only you weren’t worth his attention.

When presence enters your space, you know it’s time. You face the Kaitainian guard, and he turns. You follow him away from Feyd. 

—

Feyd POV - One Year Later

You carry yourself differently around him. Your back is straighter, chin higher. You keep your hands clasped in front of you at all times. Feyd never made you stand like that, like someone shoved a stick down the back of your dress—your dress, which he hates. 

If you’re going to be dolled up like a present on his birthday, the least his cousin could’ve done was wrap you in colors he likes. Some silver chain or thick, black leather. Not this shimmery golden, flowy fabric of another planet. 

It pisses him off. Showing up in Paul’s clothes, doing your hair up as they do in Kaitain instead of letting it loose around your shoulders, standing as Paul wants you to stand—all of it is like a stamp on the memory of you being taken from him. 

You’re changed, but you no less belong to Feyd than you did before. The real you is still in this new woman somewhere, and he intends to bring you back. 

He’s been planning it for a year. It took him time to gain enough trust from his uncle to be granted full rein of the Harkonnen armies, but all he had to do was prove his ruthlessness and wait until his brother showed himself for the fool he is, and now he has a footing in Arrakis. Complete control over spice production, which he can manipulate from right under his uncle’s nose. Something Paul Atreides wants. 

—

Reader POV

The second he returns from his meeting with Paul, you can feel him. Watching you. Staring. Drinking you in. You try your best to ignore it, but you can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at you now. You’re not the same. For a year, you haven’t lived the life Feyd-Rautha made for you, and in that year, you’ve been exposed to the antithesis of that life. Finer clothes, better food, maidservants of your own, physical touch. You’re treated with kindness, and you have been used as you are meant to be used. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are any more loved on Kaitain than you were on Giedi Prime. That place is for Chani. She permanently resides in the eye of the emperor, and you, just off to the side. But you’ve come to accept your reality. You’ve made your peace with never being someone’s first choice. What you haven’t made your peace with is Feyd. 

You wish you could say otherwise, but you still have those feelings stirring inside of you. Love, that even after another year of contemplation, you still don’t understand. He never gave you reason to love him. But you couldn’t help yourself. Watching him from a distance was enough. You fell in love with a man you witnessed show leniency and a form of kindness to women who weren’t you while imagining yourself in their place. It was, and is, pathetic. Yet, you continue to love him. And now you’re seeing him again, and he’s just as beautiful. 

You sneak a glance at him. His eyes are still on you. He’s alone, no harpies to his left or right. Your eyes scan the room. No harpies anywhere.

“Are you alright?” Paul asks as he comes from behind you to be at your side. 

“Yes.” No.

Paul takes a sip of his drink. “I know it must be awkward, but are you enjoying the party? I cannot tell by the look on your face.”

“I am.” You’re not. 

In your peripherals, you see him nod. “I have…” he sighs. When you look at him, his head is tipped downward. 

“You always say beauty should not face the floor,” you tell him. 

“I do,” he says with a smile, lifting his head. He takes a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.” An immediate sense of dread fills your gut. “He’s asked for you back.”

Your body freezes, and then your heart begins to thump against the wall of your chest. It pounds with the ferocity of a hundred drums, almost painful in its desperation for freedom, escape. “And?”

Paul’s eyes find yours. You see the silent apology. “I’ve agreed.”

“What!” is a hushed burst of air. You can’t draw attention to yourself, but you know if anyone is already looking your way, the mask of indifference you’re trying to keep on your face won’t fool them.  

“I’m sorry. He offered me something I cannot refuse.” 

You don’t have to ask if that something is truly more than your worth. By the sight of the emperor, it is worth more than ten times your value to him, and you can’t stand in your spot anymore. Your composure is being chiseled away at by the second, but this is not the place to fall apart. The emperor says your name and for the first time, you don’t respond as you walk off. 

Knowing your way around the place, you find a secluded corner just outside the doors of the grand room. Your breathing is uncontrollable. His. You’re going to be his…again. Or you already are. It sounded as if the deal had been made, signed, and done with. You’re not leaving Giedi Prime at the end of the night. You’re not going back to luxury, comfort. You’re staying put. Once again, ignored and treated as a useless object. Once again, a low member on the list of those Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants. 

Suddenly, a stream of light blinds you, the muffled voices rise in clarity, and then both are gone. No light. Dimmed voices. You blink. Feyd is in front of you. 

Scoffing, you say, “What do you want?”

He stares at you some more—a long interlude that makes your nerves wiggly under your skin. Then he walks, he enters your space, he puts his hands on your cheeks, and he kisses you. 

The very first kiss. And you wish it was awful. You wish it didn’t send a zingy shiver down your spine or raise the hair on your arms, but your body doesn’t feel like your own as his lips meld with yours. You’re simply along for the ride, taking what he’s giving. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours. “I should’ve kissed you before,” he says through a ragged breath. “You’re so fucking sweet.” And then he goes in for another kiss. Another kiss that you don’t return because you’re too stunned to do so. 

Coming to your senses, you plant your hands firmly on his chest and shove. He stumbles. The surprise of it doesn’t last long. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. “You’re mine again.”

“Why did you do this?” you spit. 

“I never should have been forced to lose you,” he tells you, but you don’t really hear him as your words continue to tumble out of your mouth at a rapid rate. 

“You don’t need me. I’m a waste to you. You never touched me–”

“I didn’t want to ruin you,” he says. “That’s why–”

“You only touched them–”

“Because you were something pure.”

That, you do hear. “Pure!” you shout. “You liked me pure? If so, then you’ve wasted trading whatever you had to have me back. I’m not pure anymore. And do you know why?”

Feyd’s blue irises darken a shade. “Stop.”

“Because I was his,” you say, a whimper in your throat as you reminisce about the ease of the past year of your life. “And he actually used me.”

“Stop!” He grabs your arm. You fight his grip, but it’s a waste of energy—he’s too strong for you—and then you’re being pulled into the closest room. He tries to press his lips to yours and in that moment of vulnerability, you’re able to pull yourself free from his grasp. 

“Don’t you dare! Go to your harpies.”

“They’re dead,” he says, reaching for you again. You leap back, but he manages to catch you. He pulls you close and your chest slams into his. 

“Why?” you say as you struggle, your body wiggling in the circle of his arms. 

“I killed them when you were taken from me.”

Your spine goes rigid. You blanch. “W-Why?”

Feyd groans as if he’s tired of you playing stupid, as if he’s tired of you wasting his time on ridiculous questions with obvious answers. “Because you made them tolerable. I thought of you whenever I had them, but then you were gone, and I couldn’t think about you without thinking I was never going to have you.”

Your lungs lock in all oxygen, and suddenly, against your will, a crack splits the hard shell of your anger. It’s not so simple to believe what he says. That he always wanted you? That you were too precious for him to touch? You think it’s more likely your appeal increased when he lost control over you, but his words are distracting, too much to comprehend in the limited time you have before he’s kissing you again. This time, you soften in his hold. You kiss him back. 

Your hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck. His mouth moves to your cheek, your jawline, your neck. He bites down on sensitive flesh. His touch trails down your spine, over the swell of your bottom to your thighs, and he lifts you up. 

It’s a few steps to the foreign bed. On your back, you yank up the skirt of your dress as he rips his shirt off and undoes the fasteners of his pants. He pulls them down just enough to free himself. His arms curl under your knees. He jerks your body to the end of the bed. One hand goes to your waist. The other pumps his member twice before he guides himself inside of you. 

It’s not like Paul. Not even close. Thicker. Longer. You watch Feyd where you didn’t watch Paul. Through your own pleasure, you examine his. The pinch of his brow. The parting of his lips. The breath that leaves them—it’s heavy and yet soft. The way he stares at you. Always staring. 

You love him. 

“You will be the only one,” he says. He leans down to connect your lips. “The only one.”

[lovebeatriceplz]

Lotr Love Languages ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Characters: Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Merry and Pippin, Arwen, Eowyn.

Aragorn :

☆ Quality time, Acts of service

- Quiet moments, partaking in every day domestic tasks. It's enough for him.

- Respects your boundaries and independence, but lives for carrying out acts of service. It's a "I can do it myself" + "Let me do it for you anyways" dynamic.

- Your silent protector. His eyes always find you in any setting.

- He's never one to wait for you to make a move. Not clingy, but if he's lonely he won't hesitate to seek you out.

- Sword bearing lessons.

- Physically places himself between you and the threat, almost subconscious.

Legolas :

☆ Physical touch, Quality time, Words of affirmation

- Lives for verbal praise or reassurance and returns the favour.

- Hand holding, a five finger grip.

- Prefers to be/stand close to you, otherwise he'll feel a bit awkward and unsure of what to do with his hands (so he'll hold yours).

- Quality time is really just learning about each other, inexorably falling deeper.

- Teaching him how to cook your favorite dish, teaching you Sindarin, braiding his hair the way your mother taught you, he'll impart all his knowledge on to you.

Gimli :

☆ Gift giving, Acts of Service, Quality time

- I like to think that dwarfs have a hoarding habit. Maybe not hoarding, but he'd never throw away anything you give him.

- His gifts are quite peculiar, and make no sense to anyone but you. That root that he dug up with his bare hands wasn't very romantic, or pretty. It happens to be the main ingredient in a childhood favourite.

- If chivalry is dead then he's 6ft under.

- Quality time can range from drinking games and watching intense boar fights to taking a stroll through a field and climbing a tree.

- Don't try to partake in any manual labour around him, part of it is to flex his strength and show you up, the latter is the desire to pamper you and show that he cares.

Frodo :

☆ Quality time, Words of affirmation

- Reads books with you. Probably under the shade of a tree, with your head on his chest.

- Has a way with words and can wash your worries away with a heart - to - heart.

- Wandering is better with company, he thinks. Which is why he drags you along on any expedition he finds himself on.

- Has a secret spot somewhere, maybe a dead tree trunk or a quiet spot by the creek, just for the two of you.

-Makes sure you feel included in every situation. Great listener.

Merry and Pippin :

(I was going to separate them but I got lazy mb gang💔)

☆ All of them

- I'm not going to give an example for all of them so I'll just highlight some stuff.

- 75% of their jokes are jokes that you've shared with them at some point.

- Bear hugs, pepper kisses, hand gripping holding, biting, piggy back rides, you get it.

- Not great listeners overall but very attentive when it comes to you.

- Chivalry but at different levels. Merry is the type to cover you with his cloak if it starts to pour, or carry you across a gap/leap.

- Pippin is the type to shield you from the rain, with his body. He'll bridge the gap to be crossed, with himself. "It's fine you can step on me, I won't feel it😼".

- It's common to have very out of nowhere, deep conversations when they're around.

Arwen:

☆ Physical touch, gift giving, quality time, words of affirmation

- Gives the softer, purer side of physical touch. I'm talking forehead kisses, cuddling, short but sweet pecks on the mouth, face holding, all of that. Enjoys being on the receiving end of this as well (move aside gentlemen I got this).

- If sentimental was a person it would be her. All her gifts have thought, meaning, and love behind them.

-Likes to sit and observe you in silence, if you don't mind of course.

- Hates when you worry about her.

- Never speaks to you harshly or with disrespect. If she's upset she has the emotional capacity to calm down before she addresses you.

- Has a thing for you skin and I mean that in the most intimate, non creep way. Smooth or calloused she doesn't really care, she likes how it feels under her fingertips.

Eówyn :

☆ Acts of service, Physical touch, Quality time

- Did I say acts of service? Yeah that's her.

- Likes to have her hands in your hair, she's not great at styling but if it's long enough she'll settle for putting it in a crooked braid.

- Long walks and stargazing.

- Her kisses are lingering and tender, and meant to bring comfort.

- Will insist on helping you get dressed. She'll tie the strings at the back that you can't reach, put the necklace on that you couldn't hook.

- She's a good listener but she loves to talk. Will patiently wait for you to finish your story, then go on a tangent.

- Hates when you fight because her first instinct is put distance between the two of you, then she misses your presence like crazy and loses her mind.

That's it (divider at the top top by @strangergraphics-archive)

[sillyteecup]

Nowhere But You

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/Cursing

Smut

Oral (female receiving)

The greed they talk about in the Bible😔

Word count: 4463🧍🏾‍♀️

A.N: I'm not a monster so here's a little band-aid for "Requiem For My Lover". Anyway, if you've read any of my stuff then you know that I don't write fluff. Because I don't really know how to. So I don't know if this counts as fluffy, but I'm giving Mila a break. Now, what I lack in the sweetness department, I try to make up for with filth. So sit back, relax, and enjoy some Milaverse shenanigans where there are only 3 constants: Mila, Terry, and smut.

~Tee❤️

-SoMiLa/Ring Finger.

T.R

One would think that being a Grammy award-winning artist and having a painter for a husband would make Mila some sort of a visual art connoisseur; or at least mean she at least understood it. But neither were true. In her 29 years of life, Mila had been to many an art gallery. Be it on a date or for her sister’s friend’s exhibitions, she never truly grasped the concepts of any of the works she had laid eyes on. Other than being pretty artworks, they sparked nothing but confusion in her regardless of how long she stared or how many artists and coordinators explained.

Until she met Terry. Suddenly the art began to make sense, invoking all kinds of different thoughts and feelings. And maybe it was vanity, but an artwork that centered her was the only kind that could capture and hold her attention hostage.

Although she was a household name in the music industry for her entrancing voice and soul clutching lyrics, she was shrouded in mystery. Her fans and the public had been grasping for straws for anything personal regarding the enigma that was SoMiLa. All they had to speculate over was the music and the rare interviews. Terry was no different. Critics, peers and fans alike would jest about how they could count on their fingers how many times he had made public appearances. The number would come to dwindle when he and Mila moved in together, both prioritizing a quiet and private life together over their public images. Even though they had been spotted out together a few times over the last 7 years, fans couldn’t tell if they were together or just close friends. This sparked a years-long movement of fans analyzing the rather cryptic lyrics in her love songs and his paintings that centered the same black woman who always somehow resembled Mila. The pair remained silent, not confirming or denying anything. Not out of secrecy either; they just had no desire to entertain the public.

Then came the release of her latest album, "I Rich(MoNd)". With the added bonus of the famous "T.R" signature across the originally hand-painted cover art. But the real icing on the cake? The final track being titled “T.R/Ring Finger.” The public was sent into a frenzy, but the couple paid them no mind, continuing with their lives in private while everyone fretted over the long awaited confirmation of their relationship.

“Don’t tell me you named it after-” Mila gasped as she marveled at her man’s latest creation.

“Our song? You’re my muse, I’m yours. It only felt right,” Terry said from beside her.

Terry’s newest exhibition, “RiChMoNd,” consisted of personal works that symbolized his adoration for and marriage to Mila. Thus none of the works were for sale. They were however available for public viewing at his Johannesburg museum, “Heart of Richmond.” The museum housed many artworks. Some were favorites from his mother’s collection, others were the very few that Mila remotely got and liked, and the rest were works by Terry that he refused to sell. The exhibition also served as the opening of the latest addition to the gallery, also titled. “I Rich(MoNd)”. A passion project he had been working on since he had proposed 4 years ago.

Despite standing in an entire gallery of works devoted to her and their love, the image of the semi-faceless black woman intrigued her. Aside from the boho locs, the subject’s resemblance to Mila hid in the more intricate details. From the tiny mole above the deep-thought induced dimple, to the scars that painted memories of her childhood over the cocoa skin of her arms and the single raised thigh that was visible. Glimpses of her personality appeared as the pens sticking out of her locs, the lit J tucked between her full two-toned lips and the way the white sheet draped over only a fraction of her body. Laid up in an unorganized space full stationary and opened CDs, tinted by the red hue of the sun was the exact reflection of Mila’s writing process. Complete with the song that not only perfectly encapsulates the way her husband inspired her, but also won her 5 new Grammys.

While Terry was a man of very few words, his hands always found ways to say the most endearing and intimate things for him. Their families joked about how stoic and quiet he was for an artist, but Mila knew better. Terry’s love language was only understood Mila, a canvas, and every crevice of the house he had fucked her into.

“You’ve done it again. It’s amazing. All of it is perfect,” Mila said appreciatively. 

His breath lightly brushed her skin as he leaned into her. “Not as perfect as the woman that inspired it all,” he whispered between light kisses behind her ear.

It didn’t take much for Mila to have Terry bricked like the third little pig’s house. He had been absolutely taken from the very moment he had laid eyes on her and only grew to fall in love with her and everything about her. All she had to do was open her mouth to breathe and Terry would be on his knees before her. The way she looked at the moment didn’t do his self-control any favors either. As much as he didn’t care for what the media thought of him or their relationship, he still wasn’t one to get caught up in a scandal. But damn, the way the exposed parts of her soft, mocha skin in that backless wine-colored satin gown invited him, silently goaded him into throwing all rational thought away. If the cost wasn’t a possible snapshot of him making love to his gorgeous wife in the middle of an exhibit modeled after his love for her, he probably would have ripped that dress off right there and then.

Cameras clicked behind them, reminding them that they weren’t in the safe bubble of their home where they were just Terry and Mila Richmond. Now they were SoMiLa and Terrence Richmond, music’s prodigal son and the new age Basuiat. The public’s favorite unicorns making one of those prized rare appearances before disappearing back into whatever hidden mythical realm for who knows how long. Although conscious of the attention, Terry kept his nose buried in the skin of her neck and his hands planted firmly on her waist. As far as he was concerned, their love had never been a secret: everyone had just either been too blind or dumb to see it. Not that he cared either way. 

“Fuck baby, I need you,” he rasped needy in her ear. 

Although her own arousal had begun to make itself known and was begging Terry to just drag her out of the building so he could turn her every which way all over their Bryanston home, Mila understood that he still had some work to do. And if the boner digging into her lower back wasn’t enough of an indicator, Terry’s erotic declaration was definitely a sign that she had to be the smart one. Otherwise his agent, Sandra, would have both their heads for weeks to come. Neither of them feared the cut-throat agent, they just didn’t have the energy to have her yelling down their throats for a week.

“And you can have me T, but first you have to find Sandra and then get through this opening night,” Mila replied, biting back a moan at the unrelenting kisses on her sweet spot.

His grip tightened around the satin covering his wife’s waist as he let out a disgruntled grunt. “Man fuck Sandra and all these people. Let’s get out of here so I can taste you. Make you feel good, hmm?” he hummed against her now goosebump riddled skin, a natural green light from her body that contradicted her words.

“How about you make me feel even better by keeping me by your side while we make tonight a success? Then I'll let you taste every single part of me all you want, loverboy,” Mila said, objecting to her own deep desire for the man that threatened to consume her whole.

“Promise?” Terry asked, moving his affectionate attack to the other side of her neck.

Mila raised her pinkie for Terry to interlock with his. “Pinkie promise.”

Terry texted Sandra to open the doors and have everyone gathered in the center immediately. He wanted this over with, and he wanted to do it quickly. He had a wine colored bowl of a chocolate dessert waiting on him. The kind that had a creamy center and melted on your tongue. And Terry was never one to deprive himself of his favorite treats, let alone the one next to him. 

As the guests poured in, Mila helped Terry straighten out, smoothing his jacket and wiping his glasses. She placed them back on his face, gracing him with a proud and grateful smile. Despite his lips barely moving an inch, the corners of his eyes crinkled as if he were grinning. Such little expression covering so much emotion. Emotion only Mila could read, like her own secret diary. 

Still, it was a miracle that this man could paint because he was terrible at expression of any other form (that wasn't affection for Mila). 

Having become accustomed to large crowds, Mila had grown indifferent to all the eager eyes focused on her and Terry. They stood in the center of the gallery, hand in hand, as they waited for everyone to settle down. Right behind them stood Sandra who was nursing a glass of champagne to ease the nerves and whispering animatedly with her best friend, and Mila’s manager, Sid. The couple’s mothers and teams chattered excitedly among themselves about the direction of the night.

“Good evening everybody. My name is Terrence Richmond and I wanna welcome you all to the grand opening to the latest, and dearest to my heart, vessel in the Heart of Richmond, a passion project that I’ve put my all into because a tribute to my literal heartbeat and our love deserves nothing less: “I Rich(MoNd)”,” he announced, garnering loud applause from the crowd.

He waited for the clapping to subside before continuing. “I would like thank each and everyone of you for taking time out of your busy lives to celebrate with me this ode to the love of my life, Somila Richmond.” Another round of applause sounded through the room as Mila stepped into the imaginary spotlight that was the audience’s admiration and his loving gaze. She shone them a grateful smile before stepping back to place short but yet desire filled kiss on Terry’s lips. The low growl that rumbled in the depths of his chest had her fighting the urge to deepen their kiss and have him show the room just how much he loved her. But she was the rational one, so she pulled away, but not before sneaking a light swipe of her tongue over his lip. The only reaction she had dragged out of him was a sharp inhale and his nails once again digging into her waist. She retook her place beside him while he finished his relatively short intro speech. 

He implored everybody to enjoy their evening, watching the crowd disperse into the gallery. Almost immediately the press swarmed in with their cameras, beckoning the power couple’s attention for a photo op for their websites, blogs and magazines. Terry had banned microphones from the opening, stating he would only be giving interviews starting the following week. This decision was influenced by Mila during his meeting with Sandra a month ago at their Phuket home. Her reason was that Terry would be too tired from planning and setting the gallery up, and her man’s health was a top priority. The public would wait till he was at least somewhat well rested and that was that.

“Abagqibi na aba? It’s been 10 minutes and I, personally, get tired of smiling,” Mila hissed through what was slowly becoming a strained sneer.

“Imagine how tired I am,” Terry gritted through his teeth, cracking Mila’s sneer back into a genuine grin as she bit back a chuckle.

One of her favorite things about doing press with Terry was his absolute disdain for smiling and how much of a grouch it made him during photo ops. If she was lucky, he’d start cussing like a sailor any second now.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Sandra called out, earning disappointed groans and protests from the disgruntled photographers.

“That’s a lot of complaining from people that haven’t been kicked out. You guys getting ungrateful with me now?” she demanded as she stood before them with her hands placed on her hips and an expectant glare. That seemed to silence them as they also ventured into different parts of the gallery.

Terry and Mila both instinctively relaxed as the cameras disappeared into the crowd. Terry flexed his jaw while Mila stretched her neck. Terry’s hands came to the rescue, gently grabbing and twisting at Mila’s chin and cranium till a tiny crack signaled a job well done. Mila mouthed a grateful thank you right as Terry placed gentle kisses on her cheek and forehead. Sandra approached the pair, smirking as they gathered themselves. 

“Where would you two be without me?” Sandra asked sarcastically, making Terry roll his eyes.

“Scary Terry over here would probably be in jail for massacring a gaggle of photographers because they dared to ask him to show some tooth,” Mila quipped, earning chuckles from their managers. Terry just scoffed as he absentmindedly rubbed circles on her shoulder.

“Like you weren’t complaining,” he deadpanned, his unamused glare making Mila giggle like a schoolgirl.

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy,” Mila gushed with a playful elbow to his side.

The corner of Terry’s lip twitched into a smirk. “I’m even cuter when I’m eating you out till you cry.”

Sandra’s features scrunched up in disgust before strutted away, muttering something about finding Sid and the champagne. A flustered Mila on the other hand, smacked his bicep, only earning a wider smirk as a reaction from Terry. “Kanene wena woyikwa zintloni,” Mila sighed with a click of her tongue. 

Terry took her wrist into his hand, gently pulling her into him. His palms cupped her face, angling her upwards to meet him for yet another soft kiss. Only this time her lips felt like they were being claimed as his by his. His hands had taken refuge back on her waist, keeping her body flush against his to make her feel his growing arousal. Thank God for the long wrap-around coat his stylist, Tori, had picked out for him. Although the matching slacks were a little loose around that region, Mila doubted they would have fared well on their own. With a gentle tug of her lip, he pulled back, leaving Mila in a semi-lustful haze.

“Let's get out of here. I'm not asking this time,” his tone, although barely above a whisper, left no room for argument. Luckily for the two of them, Mila had none left in her. Especially when he had stolen her breath and common sense a mere moment ago. 

She nodded, offering a breathless “yeah” as he led her out of the building, not bothering with any formalities. Either way, his job for the night was done. He'd just text Sandra to handle the rest of the night. 

With Mila in front, and Terry trailing right behind her like a bear-sized pup, they quickly paced to the car. He hurriedly opened the passenger door to their Rolls Royce, ushering her in and making sure she was safe inside before making his way to the driver's side and starting the car. 

One hand gripping the steering wheel with purpose and the other firmly perched on Mila's thigh. Halfway through the trip, Terry had begun to regret his insistence that they drive there and back themselves. He stupidly ignored the possibility of wanting to turn his wife inside out on the way back. Now he had to give all of his attention to the road while ignoring the temptful gaze piercing threatening to veil his judgement. He was only able to spare her the occasional squeeze of her leg, resulting in a subtle clench, a light gasp, or her fingers brushing against his knuckles. 

The usual 29 minute drive was cut to 19 as Terry basically drifted into their driveway like he was Dominic Toretto. He wasted no time, moving like a man on a mission from the driver's seat to retrieve Mila from the passenger side. A quick shuffle and a fumble with the keys later, they were in their living room, locked in a tangled frenzy of wandering hands and spells against each other's lips. 

“Where?” he breathed against her. 

“Anywhere. Fuck, right here,” she moaned into him. 

He hoisted her by the backs of her thighs, placing her gently on the suade couch. He knelt before her and slid the scarlet So Kates off her French-pedicured feet, placing soft kisses up her ankle to her calf. Repeating on the next foot, his heavy lidded gaze found her needy one. 

Her chest gently rose and fell under the top of that dress. That dress that took him three steps back from God whenever he laid eyes on her that night. Her deep cherry lined lips were agape as she welcomed the last few regulated breaths for the night. All these shades of red, like the blood pumping through his veins, into his hardened cock, goading him into fulfilling every sinful thought that had crossed his mind since they had left the house. 

“Sandra…you need to-” 

“She's a grown woman, she'll be fine. I need to attend to more pressing matters,” he interrupted, as he pushed her dress up to her hips and guided her legs open to reveal the thin lace material covering the aforementioned matters. 

Red. The thong was red. 

“But T, the gallery-your work-” Mila breathlessly protested, earning a sharp smack to the back of her thigh. 

“It can wait. My princess’s pleasure on the other hand can't, and if she can't understand that then I'm going to have to gag her for the night,” Terry stated. 

“Do you want me to gag you princess? Do you want to deprive me of hearing that beautiful song of you coming undone? Are you trying to punish me Mama?” he asked, tone dripping of lustful sincerity. 

Mila's head shook frantically as she reached for the hands clamped around her calves. “No baby, I want you to hear me. Need you to touch me, please.”

Terry's head tilted to the side, feigning confusion at her request. “But I am touching you sweetheart. Is there something I'm doing wrong?” he was taunting her into specificity, and he knew she wasn't far gone enough to understand that. 

“Fuck, Terry just touch my pussy please!” she breathed out, beginning to lose her patience for his games. He had insisted they leave early so he could make her feel good. Now was the time, and teasing just simply wouldn't do. 

At her command, Terry’s fingers hooked beneath the thin waist straps of her racy underwear. Instinctively, Mila lifted her hips slightly for him to pull the only thing in the way of him feasting on her, down her legs. He tossed the thong over his shoulder as though it were a nuisance, not caring where it landed. Mila’s hand reached behind his buzzed head, angling him to meet her in a careless gathering of lips dancing against one another. 

Her tongue slid into his mouth, occasionally brushing against his own in a claim of dominance. He groaned into the kiss, the sharp tips of her acrylics grazing his nape and pushing him into a delirium that only grew his hunger for her. Like a psychic. her teeth sunk into the plump flesh of his bottom lip, daring him to consume her as she had just done to him.

The sense of duty his military father raised him with, overtook him as he reluctantly pulled away from the soft, cherry flavoured appetizer. Like a panther in the night, his bright irises zeroed in on his meal as he grabbed her legs and reeled her in for her reckoning. Mila’s shaky gasps and growing whimpers hit his ears like music. Melodies he controlled with the varied pressures of his thumbs on her clit. With every stroke and light brush, her pussy leaked with a call for Terry to devour her whole. 

His index and ring fingers joined the fleet, greedily plunging into her entrance.The curve of his digits against her walls rewarded him with a lewd cry for more, and who was Terry if not a dutiful husband. Daring to tear his gaze from his treat, the sight of Mila’s needy state cracked the stained glass window that was his self-control. Her hooded eyes burning with wanton, her cherry stained lips trembling, and the rest of her features idle from the pleasure only nurtured the unholy lust scorching him from the inside out.

“I’m the luckiest nigga on earth, no doubt about it. You’re so fucking perfect Mama,” the curl of her lips paired with the light giggle his words elicited drove Terry’s fingers even deeper into the valley of her sex. 

“Teeerryyyy!” her honeycombed voice, accompanied by the squelch of Terry working her pussy like a fiddle, cried as her head flew further into the back of their couch.

Between watching her unravel on his fingers and watching said fingers take a swim in the frothy center that awaited his taste buds, Terry was beginning to grow impatient.The fragile glass of his window was falling apart as her desperate song for more backed by the raw instrumental of her pussy being prepared just for him, dealt devastating blows. But with the way she screwed herself around his digits as her walls clenched, the light at the end of the tunnel appeared. She would cum soon, and then he would feast on her as if he were a death row inmate and she was his last meal.

“Terry I-”

“I know Mama, just let go. Let me handle the rest. Let me take care of you,” he coaxed as her juices thickened and whitened into the creamy delight that consumed his more sinful thoughts. Her eyes clenched shut, prompting a sharp smack to her thigh. “Come on Princess, I need you to look at me. Need to see those beautiful eyes process what I’m giving to you,” he cooe’d. 

And there they were; beautiful brown eyes spiraling through mindless pleasure while Terry’s words and fingers carried her through to the other side of the bridge he had built her by hand. The bridge called “mind-scrambling pleasure”. The end of it being Terry’s insatiable hunger for his Princess. The center of his being. His wife. Somila Richmond.

Feeling her come down, Terry slowly retracted each finger individually, savouring the labored gasps and strained whimpers he drew out of her. Each finger was immediately cleaned off by Terry’s tongue. A satisfied groan vibrated in his throat, eyes closing as he enjoyed his little taste test. The thought of how close he was to tasting the real thing sent a rush to his head and his dick. This woman had no idea how much of a crack fiend she had turned him into.

“Y’know Mama, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t need trivial shit like food, water or even air. You’d be all I need to survive-no. You’d be all I need to live,” his words of praise were punctuated by kisses of worship against the soft skin of her inner thighs.

“I love you…so fucking much T,” Mila declared breathlessly, making Terry’s heart flutter.

His loving gaze, carrying a predatory undertone, connected with her love-drunk one. His heaven on earth sat before him. The only woman to ever have him on his knees; not sexually, but in full submission of his heart, mind and soul. Everything he did was for her, and the moments like these? With her lost in pleasure he had hand delivered to her (although sometimes out of greed) professing her love to him? These were the moments that made life feel worth it. Because what would his be if it weren’t the one he built with her?

“I love you too Mama. More than you could ever comprehend.”

Having said his grace, Terry pressed his forearm to her hips, pinning them to the velvet seat cushions without breaking eye contact. One thing he just couldn’t have interrupting his meal, was uncontrollable squirming. His knowledge of Mila’s body was extensive enough for him to anticipate and plan for such…inconveniences.

He watched her watch him have a few quick laps at the mess he had created. The remains of her previous orgasm were always the first focus. In tandem, the thumb on his free hand began to massage her clit, coaxing her pussy to increase his supply. 

His tongue dipped into her sex, scooping through anything it could taste. The once smooth, lewd sounds sliding from her lips became indecisive erratic cries. As the tip of his tongue swirled through her entrance, the pressure of his thumb increased, as if opening a faucet. Uncontrolled grunts vibrated against her entrance as her essence kissed his taste buds and flowed down his goatee while her body writhed and shook from unbridled pleasure.  

Terry wasn’t even in the business of overstimulation, he just had a tendency of feasting on her like a madman. The way his tongue would rearrange her mind just by pressing deeper into her pussy always blossomed a few seeds of pride in his chest. His lips had begun to glisten, matching Mila’s now glowing skin from the sweat she was working up. 

He momentarily swapped his tongue and thumb, the coarse, flat pressure on Mila’s nub sending ripples through her body while his thumb worked her back to where he needed her to be. Flat pressure turned to light flicks, and Mila turned to mush as another orgasm tore through her with a guttural moan. 

More creamy froth coated Terry’s thumb, telling him to switch back. The onslaught continued as Terry relished the taste of Mila’s undoing while Mila dissolved into a body of incoherent whimpers. Like the glutton she had turned him into, he went for thirds, then fourths, cleaning her out of every orgasm he could claw onto. But alas, his jaw could only take so much, and his tongue could only flex for so long. 

Finally releasing her, Terry got off his knees and stood at full height, only then being reminded of the raging boner he had developed back at the museum. Unfortunately his greed had delivered him his comeuppance rather soon. Mila was a twitching mess of nothing but pleasure and vibes on the couch. The bun her locs was in had come undone, leaving them in a sprawled high ponytail. A clear sheen covered her face and the dark brown skin glowing iridescent under their dim orange light. The lip liner had faded but the cherry lip gloss remained, keeping her plump lips soft and smooth. 

Still absolutely perfect. 

“Fuck, I did too much didn’t I Princess?” he chuckled hoarsely, earning nothing but a mere incoherent mumble in response.

If Terry were a lesser man, he would take more than necessary. He would take the monster prowling in his slacks and fuck her till she didn’t even know who he was. But he wasn’t. He was a man of honour. One that at least accepted consequence when met with it. So he gently scooped her into his arms and carried her bridal style into their ensuite bathroom.

He would just use the hand that was complicit in his gluttony to get himself off. A small price to pay really.