#for a special dirty sinner

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[kibbles-bits]

Heaven's Best Masterpost

As with all AU's I do that have a number of posts, here's a masterpost for easy access and to keep everything in order since I make a lot of things up as I go and draw whatever I feel like. If what you're looking for isn't here (such as an ask), it might be in the Heaven's Best AU tag.

Keep in mind I change things on a whim and this is done for my entertainment ^_^

Click HERE for the latest version of this post.

Heaven's Best AU is a simple AU where Vox is a Winner instead of a Sinner and, following slightly altered events of season 1, is sent with Emily to Hell to help improve and promote the Hotel.

Story Posts:

Heaven's Best

Vox

Cry Baby

He's Helping

Labor

Best Friend

Second Choice

Buddy

Vark

Introducing Vox

Valentino and Velvette

Lucifer and Alastor

A Redeemable Quality

Cameras

Friends

Alastor and Vox

No Wi-Fi

Disappointment

Oopsie

Angel Dust Sucks

Bluff

Oopsie (part 1)

Oopsie (part 2)

Oopsie (part 3)

Accident

Self Defense

Halo

Walk of Shame

Incubus

Firm Hand

Pissbaby

Censored

Top

Hear Him Out

Vox and Velvette

A Special Friend

You'll Thank Me One Day

Lunch

Pretty

"Good" ideas

Depravity

Helping Hand

Guardian Angel

Different

Rejection

Vent

Praise

Error

Partner

Fallen

Lunch Date

The Fall

You

Upset

Sexy

Dirty talk

Apology #1

High-Roaded

Apology #2

Vox and Vaggie

Break

Apology #3

Pobrecito

Too Hot

Harem

Vox and Velvette 2

Protection

You 2

Paradise

"Non-Canon" and Doodles:

Winner!Vox Colors

Vox and Emily

Oopsie Concept

Wait

Calm Down

Poke

Preen

Vax

Emily Meets Vax

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴? 𝑶𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎? (Kinktober special) (J.M)

⤷Credits: Pinterest

Pornstar!Joel Miller x F!Reader | WC : 9.4k | Proof Read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | Kinktober Request list | Kinktober Masterlist | asks : OPEN

Summary: He hunts you through the shadows, every sick, voyeuristic moment immortalized on camera. But it's not just fear coursing through you—your most depraved desires awaken when he finally closes in and takes what he's been watching from afar.

Warnings : dub-con themes, making of porn, voyeurism (making porn and having sex for an audience), toys, role-playing, stalking, power dynamics, cat and chase, spanking choking, knife play, manhandling, praise, dirty talk, degrading, oral M!, breeding kink, fear, mask kink, VERY ROUGH, KINKY AND DARK

A/N: When I say this has been sitting in my drafts for a LONGGG TIME, I'm not lying. I loved this idea, and I hope you guys love it just as much. Thank you so much to my lovely mutuals who listened to me yap and yap about this for almost two months. I'm so sorry I haven't been active. I'm a teaching assistant, and life is wild.

You stood in the kitchen, trying hard not to glance at the camera perched atop the microwave. Its red recording light blinked steadily, reminding you that every move, every breath, was being captured. The sound of popcorn popping on the stove filled the silence of the house, a comforting rhythm in the eerie stillness. The blue tint of the night, barely enough to see by, blended with the dim candlelight scattered around the room, creating a shadowy, unsettling atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for what was about to go down, and you had to keep your composure, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your lips.

This wasn’t just any night. This was the fall special for Sinning Sinners, the site that you and Joel had built from the ground up. It wasn’t your usual shoot where you’d just pull out a camera, fuck each other’s brains out, and call it a day. No, this was something more—something you both lived for, something that had become a tradition, an annual ritual that made your fans lose their fucking minds. Every fall, you and Joel took things up a notch, diving headfirst into the darker, kinkier side of your fantasies. It wasn’t just about sex; it was about pushing boundaries, about blending fear and desire until the line between them blurred into something that made your audience addicted.

Last year, you’d done a haunted corn maze, where Joel had fucked you right in the middle of it, surrounded by the rustling stalks and the cool night air. You could still feel the roughness of the corn beneath your hands, still hear the way you’d moaned like a slut as Joel took you in that eerie, isolated field. The memory alone made heat pool between your legs, a filthy reminder of how wild it had been, how much your fans had eaten it up. They’d gone crazy for it, the combination of fear and lust driving them to hit replay again and again. That’s what Sinning Sinners was all about—giving them something they couldn’t get anywhere else, something that made them come back for more, desperate for whatever twisted shit you and Joel would come up with next.

It had started with a late-night viewing of Scream. The room was dark except for the flickering light of the TV, casting eerie shadows across Joel’s face as you watched the familiar scenes unfold. You’d both seen it countless times, but something about that night felt different—charged. Joel’s hand rested on your thigh, his grip tightening with every kill, every chase, his eyes never leaving the screen.

When the credits rolled, he turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before that spark of twisted inspiration flickered in his eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice low and deliberate, “we’ve never done anything with Ghostface before.” There was a pause, the air between you thick with the weight of his words. “What if…this year, we take it further? Darker, dirtier. You could be the clueless victim, and I could be him. Stalking you, making you wait until I’m ready to strike.”

The second he mentioned it, your heart skipped a beat, excitement rushing through your veins. You could picture it already—Joel in the mask, his voice taunting you through the fabric, the thrill of being hunted, knowing what was coming but not when. It was perfect. The embodiment of fear and lust, wrapped in a twisted, beautiful package

The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic popping of kernels on the stove. You focused on the mundane task, pouring the popcorn into a bowl as the salty scent filled the air, trying to keep your cool. But it wasn’t easy. The night was thick with tension, the kind you could almost taste, like the first touch of a lover’s hand. You knew Joel was out there, somewhere in the darkness, watching you with those predatory eyes, waiting for his cue. It was all part of the game—the unspoken thrill of knowing you were being hunted, of playing dumb when you were anything but.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to glance out the window. You’d agreed not to look, not to break character, even though every instinct screamed at you to check, to catch a glimpse of him lurking in the shadows. Instead, you turned your attention to the DVD shelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the old horror movies. The camera, placed discreetly beside it, was rolling, capturing the subtle tremor in your hands, the way your breath hitched when you thought about what was coming. You grabbed a classic—something with blood, screams, and just the right amount of tension—and turned your back to the camera, giving the viewers a perfect shot of the darkened window behind you. They’d be watching, waiting, knowing exactly what was coming even if you were supposed to be oblivious.

You carried the bowl and the DVD down the hallway, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet adding to the tension. The house felt alive, every shadow shifting as you passed as if it were in on the game. Your thoughts wandered to what was waiting in the bedroom, not just the TV and blankets, but also the props and toys you’d stashed away earlier. A black silk blindfold, a sleek vibrator, a collection of menacingly gleaming, faux weapons—everything was set, just in case things took a darker turn. The details mattered, after all.They were what made Sinning Sinners so addictive. The unpredictability, the raw, unfiltered lust that seeped into every frame, every shot. You never planned the sex, only the build-up—the suspense, the tension that made it all so fucking good.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.

You grabbed the old-school camera from the nightstand, the one you loved for its Y2K aesthetic, and snapped a quick photo. The flash momentarily blinded you, and you knew this shot would have to be carefully edited out of the final cut, but when your vision cleared, the result was exactly what you wanted. A keepsake, a little reminder of the night and the game you were about to play.

Finally, you settled into bed, propping yourself up against the pillows as the movie started to play. The flickering light from the TV cast eerie shadows across the room, heightening the tension. You let yourself get lost in it for a moment, the familiar scenes of blood and screams playing out on the screen, a reflection of the chaos that would soon unfold in your own home. But your mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on Joel, on the darkness creeping closer, on the game you’d both set in motion.

And then, you heard it—a faint creak, barely audible over the sound of the movie. But it was enough. Your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat as you strained to listen. Another sound followed, this one more distinct, coming from the living room. The cue. It was time.

You slid out of bed, the cool air kissing your bare legs as you padded toward the door. Every step was deliberate, every movement calculated to match the growing tension. You were supposed to be scared, after all. You were supposed to be the clueless girl in the horror movie, the one who heard a noise and just had to investigate. It was cliché, but that was the point. The audience would be yelling at their screens, telling you to stay put, but you knew better. You knew exactly what was coming.

The living room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor as you slowly entered. The popcorn bowl from earlier sat untouched on your dresser, a silent reminder of the night’s buildup. Your eyes drifted to the window, where the curtains fluttered ever so slightly, caught by a breeze you hadn’t noticed before. You tried to ignore the unsettling chill that crept up your spine, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint movement just outside—a hint of something, or someone, lurking in the darkness.

But you felt it. You felt him.

You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room as if you were searching for the source of the sound. The anticipation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw it—the flicker of movement, the unmistakable shape of a figure slipping into the room. You turned, just in time to see him, clad in black, the Ghostface mask gleaming in the dim light.

Your heart leaped into your throat as he lunged at you. You yelped, more out of excitement than fear, and bolted toward the kitchen. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you ran, the thrill of the chase making your pulse race. You knew he was right behind you, could feel his presence like a shadow closing in.

The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint glow of candles. You skidded to a stop, chest heaving as you spun around to face him. There he was, just a few feet away, the knife in his hand catching the light as he approached. The sight of him, the menace in his slow, deliberate steps, sent a delicious thrill through you.

You backed up against the counter, feeling the cool edge press into your lower back as Joel closed in on you. The Ghostface mask obscured his face, but you knew his eyes were locked on you, hungry, predatory. The thrill of the chase had your heart racing, adrenaline and desire blending into a heady mix that made your skin tingle. You watched as he glanced around the kitchen, his gaze settling on the knife block just within arm’s reach. He didn’t have a weapon with him—of course, he didn’t—but now, as his gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a large kitchen knife, the game took on a sharper, more dangerous edge.

Your breath hitched as he raised the knife, its gleaming blade catching the candlelight. For a split second, you were frozen, caught between the rush of fear and the wave of arousal that flooded your senses. This was what you craved—the danger, the tension, the feeling of being completely at someone else’s mercy. But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

In a sudden burst of movement, you lifted your foot and stomped down hard on his, the force of it catching him by surprise. Joel grunted, the sound muffled by the mask, and his grip on the knife faltered just enough for you to slip past him. You bolted for the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted toward the bedroom, the thrill of the escape making you lightheaded. You could hear him behind you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet house, getting closer with every second.

You burst into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you, but it barely slowed him down. You knew he was right there, just a heartbeat away. You stumbled back, your legs shaky from the rush, and tripped over the edge of the rug. You went down hard, knees hitting the floor with a jolt of pain that only added to the intensity of the moment. The door crashed open, and there he was, looming in the doorway, the knife still clutched in his hand.

“Please, mister Ghostface,” you whimpered, crawling backward as he advanced on you. “Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth, breathless, desperate, exactly what he wanted to hear. You were playing your role to perfection, the terrified victim begging for her life, but beneath the surface, you were buzzing with anticipation. You knew the script—you knew he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t break character. The silence was part of the game, part of what made it so thrilling. It kept you on edge, never knowing what he’d do next, never knowing when he’d strike.

You tried to crawl away, but you were trembling too much, your movements slow, uncoordinated. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the pulse of arousal matching the rhythm of your pounding heart. You knew you should be scared, terrified even, but all you could think about was how fucking turned on you were. Every time you glanced up at that mask, and saw the cold, expressionless eyes staring down at you, it sent another wave of desire crashing through you.

Your hands slipped on the floor as you tried to scramble to your feet, but before you could get far, he was on you. Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back toward him. You yelped, twisting in his grip, but it was useless. You were caught, and you both knew it. You fell back onto your knees, breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide, pleading.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. The air between you was thick with tension, every nerve in your body screaming with anticipation. You knew what was coming, and yet the thrill of it sent shivers down your spine. The Ghostface mask stared back at you, cold and unfeeling, but you knew Joel was beneath it, knew he was savoring this moment as much as you were. The thought made your pulse quicken, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every passing second.

Joel’s grip on your ankle was firm and possessive, and you could feel the strength in his hand as he slowly, deliberately pulled you closer. You tried to resist, to put up a token fight, but it was half-hearted at best. Deep down, you wanted this—wanted him to overpower you, to take control. The struggle only heightened your desire, making your skin tingle with excitement as you were dragged back across the floor.

His gloved hand trailed up your leg, rough leather brushing against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his touch grew more suggestive, his fingers grazing the hem of your panties. The sensation was maddening, a teasing reminder of what you craved, what you’d been waiting for all night. You arched your back slightly, pushing into his touch, silently begging for more, but he didn’t give in—not yet.

Instead, he took his time, savoring your helplessness, the way you trembled beneath him. His other hand found its way to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to make you squirm. He held you there, pinned in place, and the dominance in his grip made your breath hitch, a sharp intake of air that only made you feel more vulnerable, more at his mercy. The knife, still clutched in his other hand, gleamed ominously in the dim light, a silent reminder of the power he held over you.

With a sudden, forceful motion, Joel lifted you by your hips, his strength taking you by surprise as he hoisted you onto the bed. You let out a gasp as your body was flipped, your stomach pressed against the mattress, your ass in the air. The position left you exposed, and vulnerable, and the cool air on your bare skin only heightened the sensation. Your panties clung to you, soaked through with arousal, and the thought of him seeing you like this—desperate, needy—sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

You turned your head to look back at him, the mask still hiding his face, but you knew what was behind it. You knew the look in his eyes, the hunger, the need. It made your heart race, made you want to push him further, to see just how far he’d take it. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you wiggled your hips slightly, teasing him, challenging him.

“What’s the matter, Ghostface?” you taunted, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You gonna make me beg for it?”

The tension in the room crackled like electricity, your words hanging in the air, daring him to react. You could feel the heat of his stare through the mask, the way his breathing had grown heavier, more deliberate. You were pushing your luck, and you knew it, but that was half the fun. You wanted to see just how far you could go, how much you could provoke him before he snapped.

Joel’s hand tightened on your waist, fingers digging in harder, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped from your lips. The sting of it, the roughness, only added to the ache between your legs, made you grind against the bed in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure building inside you. You wanted him—wanted him to take you, to claim you, to make you his. But he didn’t move, didn’t give you what you were silently pleading for.

Instead, he leaned in close, the knife gliding along the curve of your ass, cold metal sending chills down your spine. You shivered, the sensation both terrifying and thrilling, the line between fear and desire blurring even further. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—knew this was all part of the game—but that didn’t stop your heart from racing, didn’t stop the pulse of arousal that throbbed between your thighs.

But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t with words. It was with action. His hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack of it echoing through the room. You gasped, the sudden pain mingling with pleasure, leaving you breathless. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, that rough, unyielding touch that reminded you who was in control. Your bratty defiance melted away, replaced by a desperate need to please him, to be good for him.

The weight of the bed shifted beneath you, the mattress dipping slightly as Joel moved. You could feel his presence hovering behind you, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. The anticipation was unbearable, your body thrumming with a desperate need for him. You knew what was coming, could sense the change in the atmosphere, the way the game was evolving into something even more intense.

You closed your eyes, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the sensations coursing through you. The sound of fabric rustling behind you sent a shiver down your spine, the unmistakable sign that Joel was shedding his clothes, leaving only the mask to maintain the illusion. Your heart raced at the thought, your imagination running wild with what he’d do next, how he’d use that control to push you to your limits.

The bed shifted again, and you felt his hands on your hips, rough and demanding as he flipped you over onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto the masked face hovering above you. The sight was both terrifying and exhilarating, that blank, soulless expression sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. The contrast between the mask and the naked body beneath it was a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play, the thrill of surrendering to something dark and unknown.

Before you could react, his hand was on your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your breath catch. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to send a clear message—one of dominance, of control. Your pulse quickened, the thrum of it vibrating against his palm as he leaned in closer, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

His other hand moved to your mouth, a single finger pressing against your lips in a silent command to stay quiet. The shh motion was simple, but the intensity behind it made your stomach twist with excitement. He didn’t need to speak; his actions said everything, and you were more than willing to follow his lead. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought of what he might do next made your body hum with anticipation.

Your thoughts spiraled in a chaotic mix of desire and anticipation, each passing second tightening the knot of tension inside you. Pinned beneath Joel’s weight, you could feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he loomed over you, the room closing in, suffocating you in the intensity of the moment. Each breath felt heavier, every second stretching out, the silence amplifying the raw need that pulsed between you like a live wire. Your mind raced, imagining all the ways he might break you—would he drag it out, tease you until you were trembling and desperate, or would he take what he wanted in that dark, primal way that left you aching for more? The uncertainty was maddening, fueling the fire that burned hotter with every second, leaving you trembling beneath him, craving whatever came next.

His hand lingered on your throat, the pressure a warning, a promise of what was to come. But then it shifted, slipping away only to tangle roughly in your hair, yanking your head back with a sharp tug that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You gasped, the sting of it igniting something deep inside you, a spark that fanned into a wildfire. His grip tightened, possessive, commanding, and it made your blood hum with anticipation. But before you could even think to protest, to utter a single word, his other hand cracked across your cheek with a sharp, stinging slap. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breath, the pain mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly, your body instinctively arching toward him, craving more.

You whimpered, the sound breaking free before you could stop it, a desperate little plea that hung in the air between you. But before you could say more, Joel brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay silent. The power in that small gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you bite down on your lower lip to keep from crying out again. Your mind scrambled, caught between the urge to obey and the desire to push him, to see just how far he’d go to enforce that command.

“Please…,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, the word laced with the need clawing at you from the inside. “Please, I need—”

His hand snapped out, pressing against your mouth in a firm, silencing grip. The warning was clear: no more words. The message sent a rush of heat straight to your core, leaving you trembling beneath him, your breath hitching as the tension wound tighter. The edge of danger, the unknown, had you teetering on the brink, each second a delicious torture.

His grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back further, exposing your neck as his hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around your throat again, squeezing just enough to keep you on edge, to remind you who was in control. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come. When he finally released you, your lips parted on their own, eager and ready, a silent invitation, your body screaming for him, for the release only he could give.

Joel didn’t waste a second. The urgency in his movements was palpable as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. Your eyes widened at the sight of him—thick, veined, and already slick with precum. It stood proud and heavy, the tip flushed a deep, angry red, a testament to how badly he needed this, how badly he needed you. The sight of it made your mouth water, every nerve in your body singing with the anticipation of what was coming next. He didn’t bother with teasing, didn’t ease you into it. No, he was done with patience.

With a rough tug on your hair, he pulled your head down, forcing your mouth open as he guided the head of his cock to your lips. The taste of salt hit your tongue, heady and intoxicating, and you opened wider, welcoming him in. He pushed forward, the thick head sliding past your lips, inch by inch, stretching your mouth in the most delicious way. There was no gentleness, no care in his movements—he took what he wanted, and you let him, relishing the way he filled you, the way his cock slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat with a force that made you gag, your eyes watering.

But you didn’t pull back. You leaned into it, taking him as far as you could, the taste of him filling your senses. His hips rocked forward with a steady rhythm, his grip in your hair unyielding as he held you in place, his breathing ragged, chest heaving. Every thrust sent a jolt through you, the sound of your gagging, the wet, vulgar noises your mouth made as it worked around him echoing in the small room. Your hands found his thighs, nails digging in, desperate for something to hold onto as you tried to keep up with the pace he set. You could feel him trembling, his breath hitching as he fucked your mouth, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you to your limits.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, when the burn in your throat became too much, he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But there was no reprieve. Joel spun you around, flipping you onto your back with a force that left you breathless, your head spinning. The bed creaked beneath you as he grabbed your hips, lifting you up and positioning you exactly how he wanted—bent over the edge of the bed, your ass in the air, your face pressed into the cool sheets. The position was humiliating and degrading, and it only made you want him more. You could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into your skin, the pain a sharp contrast to the pleasure that thrummed through you, making your body tremble with need.

He wasted no time, no gentle caress—just pure, unfiltered need. His cock nudged against your entrance, the wetness there making it easy for him to slide in. The stretch was exquisite, each inch of him filling you in a way that made your toes curl, your back arching as you tried to take more, to feel more. He went slow at first, almost teasing, just enough to drive you crazy, to make you desperate. But the patience didn’t last. Joel wasn’t in the mood for slow.

With a growl, he grabbed your legs, yanking them together at the knees, binding them tightly with the rope he had stashed nearby. The sensation of being bound, completely at his mercy, made your head spin, your thoughts blurring with the intensity of it. You whimpered into the pillow, your voice muffled, but he didn’t care. His hands slid up your sides, his touch firm, and possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You could barely breathe, the weight of him pressing down on you, the way he filled you so completely making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need to be fucked, to be owned.

“Please…” The word slipped out, barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard the desperation, the plea, and it only made him smirk. His fingers found your lips, pressing against them in a silent command for silence, a reminder that you were his to control, to take.

And take he did.

He thrust into you hard, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The angle was different now, deeper, more intense, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You could feel every inch of him, the way he pulsed inside you, the way his cock twitched with every movement. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his body wrapping around you, suffocating in the most delicious way. The weight of him, the sheer power behind each thrust, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think. All you needed was him, and he gave it to you—hard and unrelenting.

His grip on your arms tightened, holding you in place as he started to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, driving you into the mattress with a force that left you breathless. The bed shook with the intensity of it, your body jerking with each movement, your mind going blank as you surrendered to the rhythm he set, the brutal, unforgiving pace that had you on the edge of oblivion. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, your senses overloaded, your thoughts reduced to a single, all-consuming need. More. You needed more.

At some point, he reached up, and grabbed your hair again, yanking your head back so he could take a picture with the camera perched nearby. The flash went off, a quick burst of light that left you momentarily blinded, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way his cock felt inside you, the way his movements became more erratic, more desperate as he neared his release. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap.

And then it did.

With one final, brutal thrust, Joel slammed into you, burying himself deep as he came, the hot rush of his seed flooding you, marking you as his. Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him, milking every last drop as a moan tore from your lips, muffled against the mattress. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and breathless, your mind wiped clean by the sheer intensity of it.

He stayed there for a moment, his breath heavy and labored, his body pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him enveloping you like a suffocating blanket. The world felt distant, the only reality was the sensation of him inside you, the raw, primal connection that had just played out between you. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Joel pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you shudder, your body still quivering from the aftershocks, your mind struggling to piece together what had just transpired.

The weight of Joel’s body finally lifted as he pushed himself up, his chest rising and falling with ragged, labored breaths. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting, the bed creaking softly beneath you both as the raw intensity of what had just happened lingered in the air like a living thing. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the slick sheen of sweat clinging to him, his hands still trembling slightly as he reached up to remove the mask.

Slowly, Joel peeled off the Ghostface mask, revealing his flushed, sweat-slicked face beneath. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead in dark, messy strands, and his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—were still clouded with the remnants of desire. The sight of him, so raw and exposed, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body instinctively responding to the primal energy he exuded. Even after everything, he still looked insatiable—like he could take more, give more, his hunger a tangible force that hung in the air between you, making you ache all over again.

Joel let out a long, satisfied breath, his half-smirk teasing as he shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and deep, the rasp of it crawling down your spine. “We’re done, sweetheart. Scene’s over.”

You laughed, soft and breathless, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just happened. “That was fucking intense,” you managed to say, your voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction, your muscles still quivering in the aftermath.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He leaned against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m telling you, baby,” he said with a smirk, his voice still ragged from exertion. “I’m fifty-six fuckin’ years old. Keep this up, and I might need a vasectomy just to survive.”

You snorted, the sound muffled by the pillow as you turned your head, grinning at him. “Maybe you should consider it,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “But then again, where’s the fun in that? I’d miss all that old man cum you’re so damn good at shooting.”

Joel rolled his eyes, his breath still uneven, but his lips quirked up in amusement. “Right,” he drawled, his voice dry as ever. “That’s definitely what you’d miss most.”

You shrugged, the banter lightening the air between you. But even as the playful words filled the space, your gaze was drawn back to him—the way sweat still glistened on his skin, the flush across his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest. His body was like a furnace, radiating heat that pulled you in, and despite the teasing, you could feel the tension building again, that familiar hunger stirring deep within you.

God, his age did something to you. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he carried himself, the way experience was etched into every line on his rugged face, in every confident movement. Joel knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you past your limits and pull you back just before you fell over the edge. The years had only made him more magnetic, the broad expanse of his chest, the strength in his arms, the silver at his temples—every mark of time made him even more devastatingly irresistible. He wasn’t some boy fumbling his way through; he was all man, and that raw masculinity turned you on in ways you couldn’t even fully explain.

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you took him in, your eyes tracing the rough stubble along his jaw, the beads of sweat clinging to his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he began to recover. The thought of what he was capable of, what he had already done to you, sent a fresh surge of heat flooding your core. Your body was already aching for more, the desire rekindled like an unquenchable fire, burning hotter with every glance.

Without thinking, you shifted closer, your hand trailing down his chest, the hard muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched at the contact, his body tensing beneath your touch. You leaned in, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as your lips hovered near his ear. “You know, Joel,” you purred, your tone dripping with want, “it’s fucking hot that you can still fuck me like this. Fifty-six and still going strong? That’s a serious turn-on.”

His eyes darkened instantly, the playful amusement giving way to something more dangerous, more primal. “You think so?” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You like fucking an old man, huh?”

“Love it,” you whispered, your hand sliding lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. “You’ve got experience, you know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s sexy as hell.”

The tension between you thickened, the air charged with electricity. The teasing words from earlier faded into the background as that insatiable hunger flared up again, demanding attention. Without another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of his sweat lingered on your tongue, mingling with the musk of sex still clinging to his skin. The kiss was intense, a clash of teeth and tongues, the kind that left bruises and made you ache for more.

Joel responded instantly, his mouth claiming yours with a raw hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The heat of him pressed against you, reigniting that fire burning in your belly, a fire that demanded to be fed.

You pulled back just enough to grab the Ghostface mask, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic as you lifted it from his lap. You held it up, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked at him, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “My turn?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face as he leaned back against the bed, clearly amused. “You sure you can handle it, Ghostface?” His voice was thick with anticipation, but there was a challenge there too, something dark and thrilling.

You slipped the mask over your head, adjusting it until it fit snugly, the darkness of it shrouding your vision, heightening every sensation. The thrill of the role reversal sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Through the narrow eyeholes, you could see Joel watching you, his grin widening as he leaned back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head, his gaze trailing over your body.

“Oh, I can handle it,” you purred, your voice muffled and distorted by the mask, but the confidence in your tone was unmistakable. “Question is… can you?”

Joel’s laughter filled the room, a deep, rich sound that made your pulse quicken. “Bring it on, baby,” he challenged, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. With a swift, determined movement, you straddled his hips, the feel of his hard length pressing against your core sending a jolt of desire straight through you. The mask heightened everything—the darkness, the mystery, the anonymity—and it made you feel powerful, dangerous, like you could do anything, take anything.

You ground down against him, teasingly slow, the friction making both of you groan in raw pleasure. “You like this, old man?” you taunted, your voice a low, sultry growl that cut through the room like a blade. “You like it when I’m on top, calling the shots?”

Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, his grip bruising as he tried to take back control, to guide the rhythm, but you weren’t about to let that happen. With a swift motion, you shoved his hands away, reclaiming your dominance with a fierce determination. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, the throbbing of his cock against you making it almost impossible to resist the urge to give in. But you were far from finished.

Straddling him, you felt a surge of power course through you, the mask hiding the wicked smile that curled your lips. “You think just because you’ve got a few years on me, you can control me?” you challenged, your voice muffled by the mask, but the taunting edge in your tone was unmistakable, dripping with dark satisfaction.

Joel's eyes narrowed, the playful gleam in them giving way to something far darker, more intense. His pupils dilated, his gaze locking onto yours with a challenge that made your pulse quicken. “I know I can,” he growled, his voice thick with conviction. In one swift motion, he bucked his hips upward, and the sudden pressure of him—thick and unforgiving—against your core forced a stifled moan from your lips, the sound muffled by the mask. The sensation was electric, the jolt of it spreading through your body, but you were determined not to let him win this round.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your arousal slick and ready, but you held back, savoring the power you had over him in this moment. You leaned forward, your masked face just inches from his, the darkness of the Ghostface mask amplifying the wicked grin spreading across your lips. “You love it when I take charge, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice low and dripping with seductive malice. Your fingers wrapped around his length, feeling the way his cock twitched in your grip, hard and pulsing with need.

He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you rubbed the tip of him against your slick folds. The tease was torturous—for both of you—but it only fueled the fire burning in your belly. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure through you, but you held him just at the edge, denying him the satisfaction of slipping inside.

Joel’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared up at you, his chest heaving with barely controlled desire. “You think you’re tough shit, don’t you?” he spat, the challenge in his voice unmistakable. “Playing games with me? You know damn well who’s really in control here.”

Your heart raced, the thrill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. But you weren’t about to back down. The power you felt in this moment was intoxicating, and you reveled in it, letting it wash over you like a drug. You leaned in even closer, the mask brushing against his face, your breath hot and heavy as you whispered, “I’m the one calling the shots tonight, old man. And you’re going to beg for it.”

His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he stared up at you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could flip on a dime, but that only made it more exhilarating. Without warning, you sank down on him, taking him in inch by agonizing inch, the stretch of him filling you completely. The sensation was almost too much—your body trembling as you tried to accommodate his size—but you reveled in the delicious torment of it, in the way his eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent groan as he felt you envelope him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The fullness was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless. You could feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, stretching you to your limits, but instead of relenting, you pushed back against the sensation, embracing it, letting it consume you.

Joel’s hands shot to your thighs, his grip bruising as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But you weren’t about to let him. You started to move, your pace slow and torturous at first, dragging out every inch of him until he was panting beneath you, his body straining with the effort to hold back. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of control and desire that made your whole body hum with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice strained, his control slipping as you rode him harder, faster. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep up with you, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You’re going to kill me.”

A wicked grin spread across your lips beneath the mask, your own breath coming faster as you leaned in close, your voice dripping with mockery. “Good,” you hissed, your breath hot against his skin, your words cutting like a knife. “I want you to feel every fucking second of this.”

Your pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, but you were relentless, driving him to the edge, pushing him to the brink until he was gasping for breath, his control hanging by a thread.

But Joel wasn’t one to be outdone. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip ironclad as he suddenly flipped you over, pinning you beneath him with a swift, powerful motion. The loss of control sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and excitement that made your heart race. The mask slipped slightly, but you didn’t care—you were too far gone, too caught up in the intensity of it all.

“Can’t hear you too well through that mask, baby,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dripping with a primal need that smoldered between you. It was that shift—how effortlessly he went from serious to sexy, from calm to commanding—that made your heart race. You loved how he could flip the switch so quickly, one moment a stern, unyielding force, the next a devilish tease who knew exactly how to push your buttons. He flashed the safe signal, his eyes locking onto yours, daring you to stop him, but you didn’t even consider it. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and in that instant, he seized control completely.

Joel didn’t hold back. His thrusts were relentless, each one harder and deeper than the last, pushing you to the brink of madness with every stroke. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it danced on the edge of pain, each powerful movement driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The mask you wore muffled your moans, but Joel didn’t need to hear them to know how much you were enjoying this—he could feel it in the way your body clung to his, in the way you tightened around him with every thrust, your nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.

“You forget who you’re fucking with,” Joel snarled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. His words were rough, filled with a dark, commanding energy that sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m not some green kid you can boss around, baby. I’m a grown-ass man, and I know exactly how to make you fucking scream.” The raw authority in his tone was intoxicating, feeding into your desire as he took you to a place where you craved nothing more than to lose control under his relentless dominance.

His words ignited something primal within you, a heady mix of fear and desire that had your heart racing. Before you could respond, he punctuated his declaration with a hard, brutal thrust that tore a cry from your throat, your back arching off the bed as pleasure detonated inside you, leaving you trembling. The power he wielded over you in that moment was absolute, and though part of you wanted to fight back, to reassert your dominance, the larger part of you was helpless under the force of his will.

Joel’s hands were like iron bands around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he took full control, his body a solid, unyielding presence pressing against yours. The heat of his skin, the relentless pace he set—it was all-consuming, overwhelming, leaving you breathless and on the edge of losing yourself completely in the moment. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you who was in charge, who had the power, and the weight of that realization sent a shiver down your spine.

Without missing a beat, Joel lifted the mask just enough to expose your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He needed to hear you, to know that every word, every moan, was uninhibited, unfiltered, and raw. His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a dark, velvety whisper that held a dangerous edge.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear in a way that made your entire body tremble. The command in his voice was undeniable, a rough, primal demand that left no room for hesitation. “Say it, baby. Say my fucking name.”

The sound of his voice, so close, so dominant, sent a surge of desire through you, making it impossible to resist. You could feel the tension building, the pressure of his control wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing out every last ounce of resistance. You knew what he wanted to hear, and as the words formed on your lips, the last remnants of your willpower crumbled.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of words he demanded, but the relentless pressure of his cock, the way he filled you so completely, left you with no choice. The words were ripped from your throat, a desperate, breathless moan. “You,” you gasped, your voice breaking under the strain of it all. “Fuck, Joel, it’s you. All fucking yours.”

The admission seemed to unlock something primal in Joel, an almost feral grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes dark with possessive intensity. “Damn right,” he growled, the words thick with dominance and a promise that sent a shiver straight through you. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising force as he pulled you closer, driving himself deeper inside you. Each thrust became more erratic, more brutal, as he pushed you both to the brink, his body moving with a relentless, desperate rhythm that left you breathless.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he rasped, his voice a low, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire body. “Mark you as mine, so you never forget it. So none of them ever forget it.”

It wasn’t just the physical act—Joel loved reminding your viewers and, more importantly, you, exactly who you belonged to, both on and off the camera. His possessiveness was more than just a game; it was a declaration, a brand that he was intent on leaving imprinted on every inch of you. He reveled in the power, in the knowledge that no matter what you showed the world, in the end, you were his. And he wanted everyone to know it—especially you.

His words were the final push you needed, the tipping point that sent you careening over the edge. The coil of tension in your belly tightened impossibly before snapping, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that ripped through your entire being. Your body trembled violently, every muscle tensing as you cried out his name, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the small space between you.

You felt your walls clench around him, milking him as the pleasure tore through you in relentless waves, each one more powerful than the last. It was overwhelming, an onslaught of sensation so intense it bordered on painful as if every nerve ending had caught fire. Your mind went blank, lost in the haze of ecstasy that consumed you, your vision blurring as your senses overloaded.

But Joel wasn’t done with you. Even as you came, he kept moving, his thrusts relentless, determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from your body. You were oversensitive, every touch, every movement sending shocks of sensation through you, but there was nothing you could do to stop him, no way to slow the onslaught of pleasure-pain that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.

“Look at you,” Joel taunted, his voice a rough whisper as he watched you come undone beneath him. “Thought you were in control, huh? Thought you could make me beg? Well, baby, it’s you who’s begging now.”

He lifted the mask slightly, just enough to hear you more clearly, to see the desperation in your eyes as he continued to drive into you. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for me to cum inside you.”

You could barely form words, your brain fogged by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. But you managed to choke out a reply, your voice shaking with need. “Please, Joel,” you whispered, the desperation in your voice clear. “Fuck, I need you. Please, just… just cum inside me. Fill me up. Please.”

The sound of your pleading pushed Joel over the edge, and with a deep, animalistic growl, he slammed into you one final time. His release was fierce, filling you to the brim, hot and thick, exactly as he promised. It sent you spiraling into another

mind-blowing orgasm, your body locking around him, milking him dry as your walls clenched, squeezing every last drop out of him.

The sound of your pleading seemed to push Joel over the edge. With a low, guttural growl, he thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as his own orgasm hit, his release hot and overwhelming, filling you up just as he promised. The sensation sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure, your body tightening around him, milking him for every last drop as you both rode out the aftershocks together.

It was damn near unbelievable how many times he'd come-his stamina, his relentless drive. Joel was fifty-fucking-six, and still, he had you unraveling over and over, your own body shaking with pleasure more times than you could count. The heat between you was addictive, his age only adding to the intensity of it. Most men his age couldn't keep up after one round, but Joel? He fucked like a man half his age, like he had something to prove. And every time he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up again and again, it reminded you exactly who the fuck you belonged to.

The world around you ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the primal connection between you, the harsh panting of your breath, the erratic pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. Your bodies were trembling, utterly spent and satisfied beyond words. Joel's weight on top of you was grounding his presence a reminder that this- he-was yours

Finally, he rolled off you, collapsing beside you on the bed, both of you struggling to catch your breath. The mask lay discarded somewhere between you, forgotten in the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction. Joel reached out, pulling you into his arms as you trembled with the aftershocks that still rippled through your body, your muscles twitching with the remnants of pleasure

"Still think you're in charge?" Joel's voice was low, teasing, though his eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

You didn't have the energy to argue, not after the way he'd fucked you senseless, so you just smiled, curling into his side. Your fingers lazily traced circles on his chest, his skin still warm and slick with sweat. "Maybe we both are," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, savoring the salty taste of his skin, the feeling of him still lingering deep inside you.

Joel chuckled, a deep, satisfied rumble that reverberated through his chest. His arms tightened around you, his lips brushing over the top of your head. "Yeah, maybe," he murmured softly. "But don't you forget, baby-you're mine. Always.”

You sighed, your heart swelling with a mix of satisfaction and love, a contentment that only he could bring you. The thrill of what you'd just shared lingered, the intensity of it making your body hum as you drifted off in his arms. No matter how many games you played, how much you teased each other, you knew you'd always come back to this-back to him

[inevesgf]

UNDER THE LIGHTS • LANDO NORRIS

catching lando norris' eye at a halloween party isn't the best of attention you could ensnare, especially when you're masking your not-so-innocent personality with white wings and a halo.

content + warnings: 18+ smut with plot, p in v, female!reader, swearing, dirty talking, semi-public sex, no strings attached, mentions of alcohol + drinking, slightly intoxicated sex, clitorial stimulation, teasing!reader, mentions of bruises, unprotected sex. word count 2.5k.

even though lando isn't one of my favorite drivers, damn he is so fun to write for. if you would like to be tagged in upcoming works from this special, click the link here ⋆·˚ ༘ * notes + reblogs are heavily appreciated and don't forget to tell me your thoughts via comment, reblog or ask.

as you entered the party an intoxicating mix of laughter and music filled your ears, the bright lights casting shadows that danced upon the wall. light smoke filtered through the air, adding to create the perfect atmosphere as your friends piled in behind you. 

dressed in a flowing white gown that draped elegantly on your body, you looked like a vision of light — an unexpected twist for someone who usually wore their sarcasm like armor. oversized wings – feathered and slightly askew – fluttered behind you as you glided into the crowd. a halo perched atop your head, glimmering with an almost mocking brilliance.

you were beyond the frame of innocence or elegance, which almost made your costume all the more perfect, masking your true nature. even though you had thrown the outfit together with items from your closet, eyes hungrily fell onto you as you made your way deeper into the party, a certain pair catching your own gaze with a look of mischief.

it wasn’t until you looked forward and saw lando with his jaw slightly slack that you knew that you had picked the right costume. besides his external shock, there was a hint of a smirk that formed on his lips, his eyes hungry for something that made your stomach turn in excitement.

floating through the crowd, you swiped a shot from the tray a wait-staff member held above their shoulders, you pulled the glass to your lips, quickly downing the alcohol inside.with a satisified hum from your lips, you began your advance towards lando, the amber liquid swirling inside you like a tiny storm as you discarded the empty shot glass onto a nearby table.

“an angel at a party full of sinners,” lando’s voice erupted over the pounding sound of the music, “that’s pretty ironic. couldn’t find a better costume?” a roaring laugh fell past his lips, causing you to playfully roll your eyes before scanning his body. “i could say the same for you – you look exactly like how you dress everyday. it’s a little souless.” you teased, sucking your bottom lip under your teeth as a look of mischief decorated your face.

lando grumbled, taking a sip of the murky gin and tonic that he held lazily in this hand, taking a step closer in order to hear your voice better over the loud music. “i’m a vampire, duh!” he jokingly grumbled, looking down at you with a hint of admiration in his eyes, though his words didn’t show it. “it’s a funny act you got going on, yknow – dressed all innocent, but everyone here knows you’re anything but that.”

you forced out a dry laugh at his words, adjusting the halo that sat above your head as if to mock him. the playful banter between you two was barely audible over the blasting music, but then tension in the air was palpable. “next year, i’m going as the devil. much more fitting, don’t you think?” you cocked, the same stupid smirk decorating your face as if to egg him on with your words, itching to get under his skin.

“definitely,” lando snickered, leaning in just a tad more to the point you could feel the heat radiating off his body, “because right now you’re not fooling anyone.” a satisfied hum fell from your lips, knowing his words were mostly correct. your eyes pooled into his hazel ones as if to undress him simply with your gaze. with hungry eyes, you looked over his costume, his slightly unbuttoned white button-up working perfectly as it fit snug upon his triceps.

“do you bite? since you’re a vampire and all..” a teasing tone poisoned your words, a challenging look decorating your visage. lando chucked dryly at your words, a smirk of surprise coming to rest on his face. he took a small step forward, bringing his head down so he could whisper in your ear, “only if you want me to.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, the smitten look that laid upon your face only growing larger.

you brought your finger to your lips, shushing lando as you pulled him by the collar into the bar bathroom, locking the door behind the two of you. almost immediately, lando’s calloused hands were on you, his fingers carefully trailing down your body as his lips met yours. the kiss was sloppy and hungry, your bodies pulled tightly against each other as the alcohol only suited to broaden the moment. 

lando’s hands came down to grip your ass, pulling the hem of your dress up slightly as he squeezed the flesh, eliciting a soft moan from your lips into the kiss. his touch all over you made you feel dirty, and you loved it, your previous sexual tension now finally able to have a place to release itself.

as lando began to pull the hem of your dress up, bunching it around your waist to reveal your lacey thong, you laughed into the kiss, your lips briefly detaching from his. “so eager, huh?” you teased, yet your fingers found themselves delicately coming to unbutton his button-up, your gaze eating him up like a full course meal.

“only for you,” lando growled, his hands lazily resting up your hips as you began to undress him, “especially when you dress like this – all sweet and innocent when i know deep down you’re so dirty.” you laughed sweetly, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders and onto the bathroom floor as you brought your soft lips to his jawline, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“wanna find out?” you breathed against your skin, your manicured nails eagerly finding their way to undo his black dress pants. lando’s breath caught in his throat at your confidence, the usual dominant man melting in your touch. “i’d be sick and twisted to say no,” he smirked, letting your hands dance all over your skin.

as if to regain any bit of dominance he could have had, lando picked you up, his strong arms wrapping around your thighs as he set you onto the sink counter. a small giggle escaped your mouth before you bit your bottom lip, tangling the flesh under your teeth. landos lips immediately landed on your nip, licking and sucking sweetly at your soft skin as he stood between your legs, spreading them with his action.

as he peppered your neck with kisses, his teeth joining in on his movements as he marked your skin, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong, eager to rid you of it. a soft moan escaped your lips as you let your head rest on the mirror behind you, yours eyes closed as your breath became labored. “mhm, yeah, take them off, baby,” you hummed, spreading your legs even more before propping your heels up onto the table you sat upon.

lando didn’t waste any time pulling your thong down your legs, discarding it on the floor with his shirt and the white halo you had lazily pulled off your head. his eyes danced around your body as your cunt was revealed to him, your core glistening with your arousal from lando’s lingering gaze and passionate touches. 

“so fucking wet f’me already,” lando growled, one of his hands coming to rest on your inner thigh as he whispered into your ear, “want me to touch you, huh? make you mine, pretty girl?” his erotic words sent a shiver down your spine, your body finding itself on a euphoric high from his touch.

“yeah, fuck me like i’m all yours,” you moaned back, your voice low and sultry as one of your hands found its way in his curls, twirling them slightly between your fingers. lando groaned at your words, your actions only serving for lando’s boxers to tighten more at his arousal.

his fingers danced up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your cunt that throbbed with need. the tension in the room was palpable, the sweat beading across lando’s forehead only displaying to dire need between the two of you as his fingers continued their travel, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

when his cold fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a satisfied moan before reconnecting your lips with lando’s, kissing him feverishly. lando reciprocated, kissing you as if you were the only source of oxygen left on the planet – like if ge didn’t kiss you, he would die. his fingers worked magic around your clit, rubbing tight circles that had your mouth widening against his lips, impatient moans slipping through.

“you like that, huh?” lando teased, his voice escaping at a low growl as his lips brushed against yours, his fingers starting to pick up the pace. you squirmed under his grasp, whines that lando would call pathetic and needy escaping your mouth as you bucked your hips into his touch.

“fucking love it,” you grunted through heavy pants, small little moans escaping your parted lips, “fuck me.” the melodic noises that escaped from you sounded like music to lando’s ears as he chucked dryly at your whiny plea, the vibration sending a tingle straight through your body. 

lando was incredibly turned on by everything about you. from the way you teased him, to your moans and your beautifully wet cunt: it was all so perfect to him. he quickly finished undressing himself, pulling his boxers to his thighs to reveal his painfully hard cock, the tip flushed a deep red as precum leaked from it.

the sight was beautiful, your eyes scanned his tone abs and his hard-on as it took center stage. your panting picked you, your body desperate for any form of touch as lando neared you, your legs spreading even more to reveal the mess between your legs. “so beautiful,” lando hummed, positioning himself between your thighs as his hazels eyes looked down on you, his gaze dark and hungry.

his tip teased your entrance, rubbing smooth circles around your clit which dragged a small moan from your lips. the loud bumping of the music could be heard outside the stuffy bathroom, but the sound only continued to drown out as lando pressed into you, your head spinning at the contact.

pushing his hard, thick cock into you, lando grunted, starting to thrust at a pace that was slow enough to already have you begging for more. whines and whimpers left your lips as lando grunted, the deep gaze of his eyes never leaving yours despite the fact you struggled to keep yours open.

“i didn’t know you were so sensitive,” lando cocked, a teasing tone dripping from his words as he fucked harder into you, your knuckles turning white as your fingers dug into his shoulders, “so messy already and i’ve barely begun yet.” his words had you reeling, your clouded mind hardly pushing out a reaction, yet your body jerked, your highs pushing up to meet his thrust. 

“you fuck like a mad-man,” you groaned out, hooded eyes staring into his as his dick twitched inside you, your tight cunt holding him snuggly between your walls. lando chuckled dryly once more, your words only suiting to egg him on more as his thrust grew more rapid, sloppy.

lando licked his lips, sweat beading at his forehead as he tried to regain rhymatic thrusts, the tip of his hardened cock never falling to slam into your g-spot as he gripped your thighs. you couldn’t help but let out borderline pornographic moans as you swallowed his cock whole with your cunt, the air in the room stuffy and hot with the aroma of lust.

lando adjusted his angle, his cock only fucking harder into your pussy as erotic words oozed from his mouth, “spread your legs wider, baby.” his tone came out commanding, your fucked out mind too full of bliss as you mindlessly obeyed him, widening your legs to reveal more of your cunt – red and abused from the prior attack of his fingers. “that’s it .. wider,” lando grunted like an animal, his words coming out in huffed sighs as his cock throbbed in your tight pussy.

loud whines and moans fell from your swollen lips, the sound of the music completely drowned out inside the bathroom and replaced with the hums of the ecstasy of pleasure. “look at you,” lando purred, “such a needy girl.” his condescending words pulled you closer to the edge, your cunt sucking him in deeper as the eye contact remained.

“you can do better than that,” the words feeling from your lips between pants, your hooded eyes trying their hardest to not close tightly shut at the pleasure you ensnared, “fuck me harder, lan.” lando grunted at your command, your words sending a shutter of gruff desire through his body that slowly began to grow tired.

another dry chuckle fell from his cracked lips, the action sending a vibration through your body as his thrusts didn’t slow nor quicken. “you’re in no place to tease, baby, look at you,” he mocked, his calloused hands gripping your thighs harder as he now quickened the thrust of his cock into your tight cunt. your head rolled back in pleasure, the grip your hands had on lando’s shoulders only tightening, sure to leave little bruises in their wake. his condescending words did a number on you, your stomach tightening in pleasure as his cock battered harder in your poor cunt, making your body feel weak yet beautifully pleasured. 

“so fucking good–” you moaned out again, little ah-ah-ahs falling so carelessly from your parted lips. lando smirked in satisfaction, your praise only suiting him more as he fucked into you vicariously, giving you his all as he felt his climax rapidly approaching.

your stomach began to spin, your walls clenching around lando’s cock that still pumped into you, the vibrancy of your pleasure radiating off you as your moans sang together like an erotic duet. “yeah, cum for me, baby,” lando grunted, panting and heaving as he egged the two of you closer to your orgasms. your body shook with pleasure, your cunt throbbing as a pleasurable warmth flooded over your body.

before you could come to gather your actions, your climax hit you like a train, smalls moans of lando and little oh fucks falling from your reddened lips. quickly after, as if he was so sweetly waiting for you, lando finished. a guttural grunt fell from his parted lips as he did, thick beads of cum spilling onto the finger-printed skin of your thighs, lando’s fingers having left small bruises upon the flesh.

the two of you slowly came down from your high, the air smelling of whiskey and sex as the two of you gathered your senses and began to catch your breath. lando’s eyes never left yours as he slipped his clothes back on, bending his frame down to the ground to pick up your lazily discarded halo.

a satisfied hum escaped his lips as he placed it back onto your head, a smirk decorating his visage as his cheeks remained flush from the extertion. “see,” lando whispered as if to tease you, “i knew you weren’t all that innocent, angel.”

© inevesgf do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or claim any of my works as your own. notes + reblogs are heavily appreciated! ⋆·˚ ༘ * find my other works here.

[samwinchestersno1fan]

Angel (00:47)- Dean Winchester X Fem!Angel!Reader

cw: fem!angel!reader, fluff, implied smut, guilt, not proof read, also posted on ao3

a/n: sorry i haven't posted in ages, i've been caught up with college. anyway, merry christmas!! and happy holidays to those who don't celebrate christmas. my glasses broke while writing this :(

word count: 582

---

You stared up at the ceiling with only thin bed sheets covering your body. The room was dimly lit, the only lightsource being a lamp next to the bed. Dean lay beside you, on his side, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist. You felt a little ashamed, guilty, and dirty. You felt like you’d betrayed everything you knew, everything that you believed in. You felt like a sinner, it all felt so human. 

But it felt so good. 

No one had ever made you feel like that before. It was a completely new experience and you loved every moment of it. You didn’t feel shame or guilt when it was happening, you only felt pure bliss. No one had made you feel that good before. No one had taken care of you like that before. No one had made you feel that special before. 

No one had made you feel that special before.

But you let a human touch you like that. Taint you. Corrupt you. You really shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have given in. But you did. You gave in because he made you feel things that you had never felt. You didn’t know exactly what you were feeling but you knew that it felt good. Dean made you feel special and cared for and you wanted more of it. 

You felt his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer. You were both warm, your face felt hot. There was a thin layer of sweat covering both of you. You never felt tired, but when you looked at him, you could tell that he was. 

Your eyes wandered over his face, admiring him. You couldn’t help it, you had always done it. You could see that his face was flushed, his eyes looked tired but he didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to look at you, admire you. 

You could only think about the way he praised you last night, telling you how well you were doing and how good you were for him. Thinking about the way he kissed you and marked your neck only made you even more flustered. You moved closer to him, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment. Dean held you tighter, not too tight though. 

He didn’t say anything, neither did you, you didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was too perfect. You just let him hold you. You could hear his heartbeat, you could feel how hot he was. 

What you did wasn’t lustful, there were feelings, feelings that you hadn’t understood before. They were new and weird, you didn’t know how to express them. You never understood why your heart rate would speed up when he was around or why you always wanted to be around him and why you would overthink every little interaction with him. You never thought you’d give into any human desires, you never thought you’d feel like a human. You didn’t even really like them at first but it didn’t take long for you to become fascinated with them. Especially Dean. There was something about him that drew you in. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. You couldn’t stay away from him. 

It was annoying, really, how he took over your thoughts at the beginning. But now you didn’t seem to mind. You loved knowing that he felt the same way about you. But deep, deep down it still felt like you were doing something wrong.

[anundyingfidelity]

PRIVATE LESSONS – Sanji x female reader

Summary: on what is supposed to be another of your private cooking lessons, you and Sanji get closer... in a very intimate way.

Pairing: Sanji x female reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: pure fucking, dirty, obscene fingerfucking smut, some plot, heavy hand kink, eye contact, language (also reader thinks herself as a slut at some point), fingering, cum play(?), semi-public, praising, pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl...).

Notes: this is just full of smut so yeah. Idk, this is my realization that I am a Sanji whore. Enjoy you sinners. And I'm sorry for any errors as English is not my main language. (I'll keep apologizing for this lol).

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Probably will make a part 2 to consumate this shit, but I can't promise I will...

GEN MASTERLIST!

Months ago, you started at the Baratie as a waitress but your biggest wish was cooking. And Sanji was there to help you with that. You had absolutely no idea how to start, lucky for you, the blonde chef of the restaurant was aware of your dreams. So you started lessons after your shift.

"Can't deny the wishes of a pretty thing like you," you remembered Sanji saying when you finally asked him to teach you. He winked and put a playful smirk on his lips.

Yes, Sanji was a flirt - but he was a flirt with everyone. So you never took personally his random comments and hits, until you started your cooking classes.

The Baratie was always closed and there was no one but Sanji and you in the kitchen. He had started with the basic stuff, like chopping vegetables and soft meat, and making easy entries and sidedishes.

There was a problem though. This was almost the fourth week you were receiving his lessons and you found out there was something distracting you a lot recently: his hands.

His beautiful, strong hands, that, in a delicate manner, would slice a fish and would convert it in the most delicious dish you ever tasted ever. You became so immersed in his hands doing little to nothing. Even if Sanji wasn't cooking, just fixing his hair or having a cigarrette, everything you could keep your focus on was his beautiful fingers, sometimes wearing pretty rings and jewels around them. And the way the veins on his big hands would appear... Gods, your mind started to wonder a lot of things and it was becoming difficult keeping your focus on the special salad you were preparing that night.

"You're doing great, love," Sanji whispered, staying right behind you and monitoring carefully your chopping like an inspector.

His sweet words were no help for you at all. With a deep breath, you finished with the last eggplant. Sanji immediately came closer and leaned behind your back, and you controled the loud gasp that was about to burst. You felt his strong body pressed against your own, and he suddenly grabbed your hand still holding the knife to start chopping a small piece of the eggplant you just finished. His arms were now sorrounding your figure as he guided softly on how you were supposed to cut it.

"Just make sure to cut them like this, see?"

All you could give was a nod. Fuck, you felt so embarrassed, hypnotized by his hands working on the must mundane activities in the whole world, grabbing firmly the knife between his fingers.

Those thick fingers you fantasized about late at night; not letting you pay attention to the important things Sanji would say to you about cooking. Those fingers you wished to have inside you right now, to lick them, to suck on them until they were completely dry... You rub your thighs together and try to keep your thoughts locked to continue with the lesson.

"Yeah, I see now. Thanks, Sanji," you were surprised you were actually able to talk.

You heard his chuckle behind you before shifting and come by your side, leaving you free of his grip and the warmth of his hands that you were already missing.

"Lets plate then."

Sanji guided you on how to place each ingredient on the bowl, making it harder for you to follow his pace. It took longer than you expected, but you were trying to keep your shit together; your skirt and shirt suddenly felt too tight on your figure and you tried to not rub your thighs, even if you wished for some friction right now.

Once the bowl was done, Sanji took the small plate with the sauce you prepared earlier and gave it a delicate taste, licking the spoon with his tongue.

Why did he look so hot just by doing anything? Was he aware of the effect he had in you lately? Was he teasing you? Or where you just hot and bothered already? No answer you had for any of those questions.

Sanji wrinkled his brows, savoring the sauce with such delicacy, and after a moment or so of thinking he looked at you.

"I think something is missing," he said.

"What? I put everything that was on the recipe for the sauce." In a swift move, you took the spoon from his hand and had a taste yourself. "Seems okay for me."

The chef tsked. "Darling, you need to taste it differently. Deeper, go further than usual."

Sanji dipped his forefinger on the sauce and brought it to your lips. With hesitation, you opened your mouth and licked the sauce from his finger, not only tasting the sauce but savouring the moment. Was he aware of how you looked at his hands? You were not going to question it. Not when you carefully wrapped your soft lips around him, closing your eyes slowly, arousal building up between your legs. His words were no help either, it was like if he was testing the waters and so were you.

You felt Sanji pulling out his finger from your mouth and you let out a soft moan. You wanted to snap yourself. He smirked, he obviously heard your pretty noise.

"Sorry..." you were ashamed but the burning desire was growing and winning over you. What a fucking slut, you thought to yourself. It didn't matter right now. You just had a taste of his fingers.

"So what'd you say?" Sanji interrupted the voice inside your head.

Your dark eyes looked intensely his charming blue ones. "I still think the taste is good."

Sanji leaned down, almost brushing your lips and looking like if he was forcing himself to not press his lips to yours right there and then. Until he did. He captured your lips in a heated and rough kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and tasting the sauce and the sweetness of your plump lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other pulled you closer, forcing your back to press against the counter. Now, you were trapped between his body and the surface.

A moan escaped your throat and Sanji happily swallowed it on the heated make out session you shared. He lifted you up so you were sitting on the empty side of the counter, taking shallow breaths, as he stood between your parted legs, stroking the skin of your thighs without any rush.

"I've noticed you look at my hands so attentively," he mumbled, biting your lower lip softly. You gasped, but he continued. "Why's that?"

His question left you speechless for a moment. Did he really need to ask?

"Sanji, I already licked your finger..."

His palms traced their way under your skirt, and his fingers teased your inner thighs, finding the fabric covering your wet core.

"Well, darling, doesn't that mean we can go further? Deeper?"

"Go ahead then," you mumbled, full of lust. Your skin was aching already for him and this was all you needed to feel complete. Him.

With that, his fingers rubbed you softly over your panties, pressing on the wet patch you were already making. Sanji smirked and he leaned to pay attention to the delicate skin on your neck. His lips pressed soft kisses, leaving a trail of them, until he found the sweet spot that made you melt into his touch, nibbling and sliding his tongue against your neck until he met your collarbone.

"Sanji..." the soft whimper past your lips and you held your breath, eyes closed as he hiked up your uniform skirt and puts aside the panties covering your core from him.

His name falling off your lips made his cock inside his trousers twitch, restraining himself to not fuck you right there in the counter until the only thing that was on your mind was his name and only him. Right now, he decided he would take care of you first. As you deserved it.

"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart," he groaned, forehead pressing against yours.

His fingers found your pussy, spreading your folds softly, coating them with your already dripping juices. Sanji rubbed your clit and he teased your entrance, going at an agonizing rhythm. All you wanted was for him to fuck you with his fingers. Now. You started to grind your hips, needing some more friction, knowing he would get the hint of your despair.

"Please, Sanji," you whined.

Sanji chuckled, and you felt pathetic for begging. You could tell he was enjoying your squirm. His free hand cupped the nape of your neck forcing your dark eyes to look at his own directly.

"Look at me," Sanji ordered. "Do not dare to close your eyes, darling."

You bit your lip and nodded, gripping tightly the edge of the counter.

"Good girl," he whispered with a raspy voice, and with a lustful smile on his lips. "I want to see you come undone."

And with his statement, he eased one digit inside your velvety walls. You moaned louder this time.

"Fuck, you're so ready for me," Sanji growled, noticing how obvious the ache between your thighs was. "You're perfect, darling," he cooed against your lips. His praising caused your walls to clench around him, gaining another dark smile from the blonde man.

The thrusts of his finger started in a delicate pace. Instantly, your eyes clenched, breath hitching, as he filled you up. Sanji gradually increased his pace, curling his finger to reach your deepest spot, and you felt your juices coating your thighs with his moves.

"You look at me, don't forget," Sanji whispered, his other hand now cupping your cheek. You obeyed, opening your eyes for him.

A second finger made its way inside your cunt and he pumped them harder this time. Your legs were spreading wider, moaning against his lips, dying to kiss him one more time. But you tried your hardest to mantain the deep eye contact, realizing where you were right now. In the empty kitchen of the Baratie, with the blonde chef between your legs, fucking you with his pretty fingers. Those he protected and took care of so attentively.

And now, the only place Sanji wanted to have his fingers on was inside of you. You looked flushed, sweaty and simply gorgeous, cyring and whimpering. All for him. Your pussy was throbbing and you let a rather loud and erotic moan.

"Shit, I'm so close," you cried.

"Just come for me, beautiful..."

His lips catching your swollen ones in a heated kiss. He curled up his fingers, thumb rubbing your clit softly. Your hips trying to meet the thrusts of his hand desperately, your smooth walls clenching around his digits. Sanji realized he enjoyed the control and power he had over you as you reached your heavenly climax. He loved it more than he could ever think of.

Your body trembled, and finally, you felt sweet release hitting you, walls spasming in ecstasy around his fingers. Foreheads still touching, eyes locked as he watched you come undone. Exactly like he wanted it to be.

You moaned his name under your breath over and over, filled with pleassure. Sanji felt your thighs closing and your pussy contracting around his digits. He let you catch your breath for a moment, enjoying the heat of your body. For the first time, Sanji then pulled away his forehead, remaining still between your legs, and slowly removing his fingers from your throbbing cunt, eyes looking directly to your wetness.

Still covered with your juices, Sanji used both his hands to spread your folds obscenely to get a better look at your pussyhole. Fuck, you felt so exposed to him, but you couldn't care less. You had a mindblowing orgasm just moments ago.

"Fuck-" you cried.

"So beautiful," he praised. Again, you whimpered and your hips bucked a little.

Sanji pushed a finger slowly inside you, just to gather more of your sweetness, so he could finally have a taste. He licked both fingers he used on you before, humming like he had found the best meal in days.

"So how is it?" you finally asked, teasing him.

"Sweetheart, you're delicious."

You laughed softly, realising you totally forgot about the dish you were preparing that night. "Is this included on your private lessons, Sanji?"

"Only if you want," he leaned down to share a last kiss, this time more gentle than the others.

He already knew your answer.

[synamartia]

“ 2 a.m. . . . „

“ I got somethin' you can wrap your lips around . . . „

synopsis ┊ ◜ When you discovered the many infidelities of your boyfriend, you unabashedly sought comfort and solace in the arms of your ex-husband, Adam. After sharing one too many drinks with him over the course of a couple hours, your impulse control disintegrates as you find yourself metaphorically crawling back into his bed - something the both of you vowed would never happen again after last time, or the time before that . . . ◞ wc ┊ ◜ 6,346 ◞ warnings ┊ ◜ Adam x Reader ✧ Afab!Reader ✧ No pronouns or Y/N used ✧ Explicit / 18+ Only / MDNI ✧ ExHusband!Adam ✧ Sexual situations ✧ Cursing / Dirty talk ✧ Blow job ✧ Facial ✧ Reverse cowgirl ✧ Vaginal fingering ✧ Sex tape ✧ Rebound sex ✧ Dubcon / Drunken sex (level of inebriation left open for individual interpretation) ✧ Orgasm denial ✧ Unprotected sex ✧ Creampie ◞ notes ┊ ◜ I swore I wasn't going to be late with this one. I had it done on time, but then the formatting took WAY longer than expected, so now... here we are. I am so very sorry! For context purposes, know that I headcanon the color and luminosity of an angel's halo is a physical representation of their mood. Heaven-born angels and Winners that have been around for a while (like Adam and Lute) have learned how to control the way their halos look, but sometimes it slips. Special shout out to Hazel for letting me use the name Kenneth Brady from her WONDERFUL series: A Doe In Fall (characters are not the same). If you haven't yet, go read it! You will NOT be disappointed, I promise! And be sure to swing by our masterlist linked down below for some juicier fics by my beautiful wives! They'll have you sweating like a sinner in church~! ◞ links ┊ ◜ syn's masterlist ✧ coven kinktober 2024 ◞

1:54 A.M.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"What the... who the fuck is banging on my goddamn door...?" Adam grumbled as he yanked his bedroom door open, his hair sticking up in every direction, wings ruffled and frayed. It was two in the fucking morning, he had to be up at eight for a meeting with the High Seraphim, and someone was beating on his front door like a Karen hitting the counter, demanding to speak to a manager. "This shit better be fucking good."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Quit fucking beating on my door, asshole! I'm coming!" Adam shouted as he shuffled toward the front door, scratching at his bare belly as a loud yawn escaped seconds later. He would have just ignored the incessant pounding and opted to roll over instead, but when his unwarranted visitor had gone around to knock on his bedroom window several times, he angrily climbed out of the comforting warmth of his bed to find out who it was and what the hell they could possibly want so late at night.

Whoever was on the other side of that door better have a good fucking reason for waking him up, or he'd make a call to Lute. Adam was usually pissy when he first woke up in the morning, but Lute was just downright scary. There were horror stories passed around the Exorcist barracks of those unfortunate enough to wake her up either as a prank or a hazing ritual for the newer recruits, and as tired as he was, he was fully prepared to deal with the consequences of waking her up later on in the day if it meant he could go back to sleep at that very moment.

Shit, he might do it anyway, regardless of the validity of their reason.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"I swear to fucking god, you hit my door one more goddamn time..." he hastily unlocked the deadbolt and yanked the door open, ready to give the person a piece of his mind. "Listen, twatwaffle, do you have any fucking idea what time-?" Adam started, only to cut himself off when he saw that it was you leaning against the frame of his door with your hair done up, clad in a low-cut black dress and your matching strappy heels hanging from your well-manicured fingers. "Hey," you said softly, raising a hand to wave at him as he eyed your drooping wings and how they seemed to wrap around your lower half as a shield from the harsh bite of the cold air.

"Hey," he mocks your greeting with a sneer, stepping to the side to let you in. "You have any fucking idea what time it is?" Adam finished his earlier question, taking note of the dim light your halo was producing, its color a stormy gray - completely unlike its usual rose gold sheen. He'd only ever seen your halo that color twice in the many decades he'd known you - once after losing a bet to him over something he couldn't remember anymore, and again during the divorce proceedings.

Your split was amicable, but it still hurt you both all the same when you saw it in writing - you when you had to write your maiden name for the first time after it was final, and him when he had to mark "single" on any official documentation or when someone asked why he had three divorces under his belt. Though you both had decided that your marriage was over, you had remained good friends after the fact, and on occasion when you would hit a wall in your endeavors to find a new spouse, you would wind up here.

Something about the familiarity of it all was just... comforting.

"The fuck do you want?" Adam asked after closing the door and pushing past you, making his way over to the sofa and plopping down with a loud thud!

"Nothing, I just... wanted to see what you were doing," you said, avoiding his stare as you looked around the minimalist setup of his living room. When you finally met his gaze, you smiled sheepishly at the annoyance painted across it.

"Sleeping."

"Oh, well... what were you dreaming about?"

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're not here on a social call. What the fuck do you want?" Adam asked again, rubbing a large hand across his face as he tried to fight off sleep long enough to hear what you had to complain about this time.

Biting into your bottom lip, you nervously fidgeted with the straps of your heels before letting out an exasperated sigh and dropping onto the chaise. "We broke up. Kenneth and me."

"... Who?"

"Kenneth Brady. Remember? He's head of security down at the gates with Peter?" you asked as you looked back at him, taking note of his bare chest and the dingy pair of sweats he always wore to bed. Some things never changed, which you were glad for. The familiarity is what you were looking for right now, anyway.

"Oh! Bitchass Brady!" Adam exclaimed upon his realization as he stood up, narrowly dodging the spike of your heel when you threw your shoe at him. "Don't call him that," he heard you grumble as he stretched his muscles, hands reaching up to the ceiling and golden wings spreading out wide behind him before he tucked them beneath his arms once more.

"Why the fuck do you care what I call him? The dude's a fucking loser anyway, only god into Heaven because he was some kinda cop or whatever before he died," he rambled on as he made his way to the kitchen, earning a deep groan from you as you put your head in your hands. You could hear him shuffling around and opening up cabinets, and then the clinking of glass followed by him slamming the door shut once again.

Looking up when Adam finally returned to the living room, you saw that he was carrying two shot glasses and half a bottle of whiskey. "What're you doing?" you inquired when he set the glasses down on the coffee table and twisted the cap off the bottle, quickly pouring out two shots and downing them both before pouring two more.

"Drinking. What's it look like?" Adam snapped back at you as he picked up both glasses and offered one to you, not bothering to wait for you to take it before he threw back his third shot. Rolling your eyes at his response, you took the shot from his fingers and lifted it to your nose, inhaling the musky scent of the alcohol that spilled over the rim. "No shit. I mean why?"

"Bitch, you knock on my door at 2 AM knowing I'm trying to sleep just to complain about some tightass that thinks he's hot shit for guarding the gates of Heaven. We're fucking drinking."

That was all the convincing you needed to slam back the shot of whiskey, grimacing at the burning feeling in your chest as it went down.

3:07 A.M.

"... and then he just fucking stood there while she shoved her tongue down his throat! Didn't try to push her away or... or nothin'," you rambled on as you slunk down to the floor, leaning against the hard frame of the couch and holding your glass out to Adam for a refill. Without hesitation, he reached out and poured you another shot, misjudging the size of the glass and accidentally spilling it on your dress.

"Shit, sorry," he quickly apologized through his incessant giggling, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink as the alcohol had begun to take effect. He'd always been a happy drunk, and a flirty one too, which was why part of you suspected he had done it on purpose - to get you out of that dress. But you didn't think anymore about it, waving your hand in the air to dismiss his apology and drank the shot, slamming it down on the coffee table immediately after.

"I don't even know what the fuck I saw in a guy like that..." you mumbled, closing your eyes in an effort to stop the room from spinning around you. "Couldn't even fucking make me cum..."

Adam was still giggling as he poured out another shot, having made several snide remarks about your taste in men over the course of an hour. But when he heard you say that, he immediately stopped as he eyed you from across the table. "Wait- ... seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, don't get me wrong, he tried. Oh, he fucking tried. But just..." you started, rolling your head and opening your eyes to look back at him, unsure if the light pink dusting across your cheeks was from the whiskey or from your sudden embarrassment at the current topic. "... He wasn't you."

Adam grinned widely at that, wiggling his brows at you as you noticed his halo shift from its standard bright white gold to a pale pink. "Yeah? So what you're saying is, only the Dickmaster can make you cream?" he asked cheekily, falling over onto his side in his efforts to dodge your other shoe when you threw it at him.

"Shut the fuck up, dipshit. I'm not saying that..." you moaned, closing your eyes as your head lolled back again while you tried to stifle your own laughter. God, you missed this. It had been too long since you and Adam had been together like this, just drinking and talking and having a good time - even if it was just you complaining about an ex boyfriend cheating on you.

You could hear Adam shuffling around, but with the way the room was spinning, you decided to keep your eyes shut. You weren't even that drunk, having only done six shots compared to his ten, but that combined with the overall exhaustion of the day's events leading up to you knocking on your ex husband's door at two in the morning was really taking its toll on you. Back when you and Adam were still married, you remembered drinking twice the amount you did now without catching a buzz - your tolerance having skyrocketed when you died and your previously red blood ran gold.

"You sure 'bout that, babe?" Adam asked, suddenly too close to your ear and making you fall over on your side just like he did. "Goddamnit Adam! How many times do I have to tell you not to fucking do that shit?!" you shouted as you glared at him, rolling over until you were laying on your back on the ground. Soon you were laughing along with him at the jumpscare when you realized how silly you must have looked. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized through his giggling, staring down at you from his spot on the edge of the couch.

Adam eyed the black dress you were wearing, specifically the deep v-neck that plunged well below your bust line, and the slit up the side that stopped mid-thigh. It had a halter strap, so your back was left completely bare, which told him one thing and one thing only: no bra. It was a revealing dress, one that accentuated your curves well and had him thinking back on all the times he had you bent over his work desk or pressed up against the shower wall - not that he was complaining, he just couldn't figure out what could have called for such attire in his drunken haze. "Where'd he even take you, lookin' like that?" the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Oh, this..." you mumbled, looking down at the black dress in question before slamming your head back on the floor just a little too hard, grimacing at the pain that followed. "We went to Avery's wedding, and I was a bridesmaid," you told him, not bothering to explain who Avery was. "And so was the chick he was fucking behind my back, the one he tried to say was out of her mind," you rambled on, not noticing the way Adam's grin widened and his eyes narrowed when you carelessly spread your legs apart in the middle of a stretch.

You could feel sleep trying to set in, but the way the tight dress had been twisted around your body was making it difficult for you to get comfortable enough to close your eyes for longer than a minute. "And you know what? Maybe she was fucking crazy. She kept going on about how she blew him under the table at the last wedding they went to during her maid of honor speech. Said she wasn't the only one, either..." Adam heard you speak as he leaned over, trying to get a peek up your dress as you waved your hands in the air during your rant.

When you sat up suddenly, he straightened out and curled his lips inward over his teeth, trying to seem as innocent as possible as you stared at him suspiciously. You watched him for a moment, but didn't think too much about it as you reached across the table for the bottle of whiskey.

"I'm just over it. So fucking over it," you grumbled. Adam hummed in response, your words flying right over his head as he leaned to the side to get a better view of your ass, biting his lip when he saw the arch of your lower back. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you shook the near empty bottle of whiskey to get his attention. "Got anymore? We're just about done with this one," you told him, not bothering with the shot glass as you upended the bottle in your efforts to chug what was left.

Fuck, you had to be doing this on purpose, he thought as he felt his cock twitch to life beneath the thin fabric of his sweats. He let his eyes drift from your backside up the length of your bare back, to the messy updo that was barely being held in place by an elegant claw clip, and further up to the pale pink ring floating above your head that matched his own.

'Well, if that's how this is gonna go...' Adam continued to ogle your backside, not even bothering to hide it anymore as you leaned back on your haunches and reached back to remove the claw clip, shaking your hair out with a sigh of relief.

"Nah, but I got somethin' else you could wrap your lips around," he spoke as he scooted further back onto the couch.

Scoffing lightly at the lame pick-up line, you rolled your eyes as you stared at the empty bottle with disappointment. "Where'd you learn that one? 7th grade?" you asked cheekily as you turned to look back at him, only to have your face flush a bright pink when you noticed the state he was in.

Adam sat there before you, his legs spread wide while he palmed his above-average erection through his sweats, a dark spot forming where his tip was leaking precum against the dingy fabric. You could feel your heart leap into your throat, excited by the idea of being with him again but still nervous - just like you always were right before sex, even during your marriage. You hadn't come here with the intentions of sleeping with him - you never did. But somehow, you knew that was how the night was going to end the moment you knocked on his door.

"No, I learned it in 9th grade. But it's still got you wet, doesn't it?" Adam teased you with a wide, shit-eating grin on his face, eyeing the way you began to rub your thighs together.

"S-shut up, asshole," you mumbled, not even bothering to argue with him as you crawled over to him, situationg yourself between his legs and rubbing your hands along his thighs.

"Make me, bitch."

Rolling your eyes at his derogatory remark, you swatted his hand away and slipped your fingers beneath the elastic waistband, signaling for him to lift himself up so you could pull them down properly. Adam smirked down at you when his cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach as he stretched his arms and wings out across the back of the couch, relishing in the way you licked your lips at the sight of him.

You didn't waste any time, immediately wrapping a hand around his substantial length and giving him a few solid pumps, your thumb brushing over his leaking slit and spreading his precum around to use as a lubricant. "So what was his deal exactly?" Adam asked, groaning softly at your touch as you glanced up with a confused look in your eye, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Did he just not know how to touch you? Needle dick? ... Did he bust too fast?"

You stopped all movement as you deadpanned. "Do you really wanna talk about some other guy's dick all night or do you want me to suck yours?"

Raising his hands in a motion of surrender, Adam let the subject go as you began to stroke his cock again, choosing instead to focus on your slow ministrations and holding back the urge to buck up into your hand. He'd never been the slow and gentle type, always going at it hard right out the gate, only recalling a handful of times where he actually made love to you instead of straight up fucking. Whenever he was alone and deep in his cups, sometimes he would wonder if that was why your marriage ended the way it did.

And maybe it was on the list - where, Adam didn't know - but he wasn't about to stop and ask. That was a whole nother can of worms, and it could wait until after he was done reminding you why he was the only one that could make every atom in your angelic body vibrate with salacious reverence.

"Fine, fine. But don't think you're off the hook-!" he hissed when you cut him off by wrapping your lips around his reddened tip and sucking gently.

Ever the tease, you were, and he had a very serious love-hate relationship with that aspect of your personality.

"Fuck..." Adam rasped, his head lolling back as you moaned around his head. The vibrations made his cock twitch as he raised his hips slightly in an attempt to get you to take more of him into your hot, slick mouth. For someone that was the progenitor of all humans, you'd think he would have learning som epatience over the countless millennia since his creation, but nope. Not this guy.

You loved it all the same, finding his impatience and neediness for your body extremely sexy.

With another hum, you opened your mouth wider to take more of him in, only getting about half of his raging hard-on in before his tip was bumping the back of your throat. You wrapped one hand around his remaining length - pumping and twisting in time with your bobs, smearking your saliva and his pre all along his aching prick for a smoother glide.

You've only just begun to touch him, and yet he was already on the brink - his painfully hard cock twitching in your mouth and the defined abdominal muscles hiding behind a layer of fat flexing each time you went back down. "Yeah, that's it, baby, suck my dick..." he groaned as he gathered your hair into a ponytail, his grip firm, pressuring you to move faster.

Smirking at the breathless sounds that he was producing, you did as he wordlessly obliged. You traced the vein on the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue, curling it around what you were able to swallow shortly after and rubbing it back and forth as you bobbed your head, gaining momentum with each second that ticked by.

"Y'know, I've never had someone that- nngh! -goes down on me as good as you do," Adam admitted as he began to roll his hips, gagging you in the process. Humming in response, you stared up at him from your spot between his legs, your arousal pooling in the gusset of your panties as you continued to suck and slurp, soon hollowing your cheeks out. "Or anyone that can make me cum as fast as you do."

Cupping his heavy balls with your free hand, you began to roll his testes between your slender digits, massaging his scrotum gently. It never took long before Adam was reduced to a whimpering mess when you blew him, submissive and desperate for the pleasure your moist cavern promised him. Pulling back until only his tip remained in your mouth, you pressed back against his hand when he tried to force your head back down or push his hips up, the tip of your tongue running along his slit several times.

"Aah- ahmmm," you tried to say his name before you gave in and let him push you further down on his length than before. Adam sharply sucked in air through gritted teeth, his wings fluttering each time you moaned around him.

"F-fuck, I'm close," he warned you just before his thick vein began to pulse beneath your tongue, raising his head once again to look down at you. "Shit!" with a shout, Adam was pulling your head back by your hair until your mouth released him with a loud pop, replacing your lips with his hand and fisting his cock at a speed much greater than the one you had been moving at.

"G-god-!" A deep groan rumbled through his hairy chest, muscles clenching and hips matching the vigorous stroking of his hand.

With one final pump, Adam was spilling his hot seed across your face, coating your lips with each spurt in ropes of the milky white substance. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" A string of curses and moans of your name poured from his mouth, squeezing the tip and coaxing every last drop from his balls, the viscous fluid dripping down your chin onto your tits and the dress he had been so curious about only minutes ago.

When he finally loosened the grip he had on your hair, you moved to take him in again, sucking harshly to clean him off and coat your tongue in his salty spend. Head falling back against the couch frame, Adam panted heavily as he basked in the afterglow of his climax, his whole body and wings twitching from the overstimulation of you cleaning him up.

Once you were satisfied with the job you had done, you pulled away and rose up until you were sitting straight up on your knees, reaching to undo the clasp of your halter strap. Adam eventually raised his head again, running a single hand through the damp wetness of his chestnut strands. He groaned audibly when he saw your face still covered in his seed and the few drops that had landed on your dress, reaching to pull you up until you were straddling his waist.

"Shit baby, I'm sorry, it got on your dress," Adam apologized, though there was no substance behind it - he quite liked the way it made you look, reminding him of the first time you let him cum on your face and chest.

"It's okay," you reassured him, voice raspy as he reached up to swipe away the few beads on your cheek and brow. "I like it better like this anyway," you said just before taking his fingers into your mouth and sucking them clean.

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

4:36 A.M.

"H-holy shit- ... missed this pretty pussy so fucking much- ... fuuuuck!"

Thrusting up into your quivering hole, Adam breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, his teeth carelessly nipping at the tender flesh as he draws slow, firm circles on your clit. "Goddamn! S-still so fucking tight!" he murmured, his free hand wrapped around the back of your thigh and holding it up as you pressed your back against his broad chest. You'd always been so damn tight whenever he would first pierce you - almost as if he were taking your virginity, your walls easily molding to the shape of his cock like they were made just for him.

"A-Adam- hahhh! I-I can't- ... 'ts too much-!"

"H-hahah- guess I'm not- nngh! -doing it right- hngh! -if you can still talk- oh fuck, yes!" he muttered, slouched against the cushions with his feet planted firmly on the cold marbled floor - allowing him the perfect amount of leverage to pound into you, the head of his cock nudging your cervix with every buck of his hips. "Gonna fuck those words right outta your pretty little head," Adam babbled on, delivering several light slaps to your clit, the resulting jolts of pain accenting the intense pleasure running through your veins beautifully.

Adam grasped for one of your hands, guiding it to your overstimulated clit and urging you to rub it with the same vigor he did. "So, he couldn't get you off, huh? Not once?" he inquired, gripping the back of your other thigh, forcing both your legs up higher and spreading them further apart. "That's why you're here, isn't it? Needed a real man to give you what that boy couldn't?" Unable to make sense of hte words coming out of his mouth, you were too fucked out to think beyond the delicious stretch of his cock spearing your insides - the sound of skin slapping every time his hips met your ass drowning out everything he had been saying.

He could feel the tale-tell flutter of your walls around him and slowed his thrusts down until he was barely moving inside you - edging you for the umpteenth time that night in his desire to drag this out as long as possible. Whining loudly as you tried to wiggle your hips and keep that friction going, Adam slapped your thigh harshly as a warning. "Ah, ah! Don't even think about it, bitch!"

"Adaaaam- fuck, I can't- ... can't take it anymore-!" you cried, tears streaming down your face as you felt your orgasm slipping away again, leaving you aching and desperate and completelyat his mercy. His breathy chuckle echoed in your ears as he pushed your lower half up, holding you tightly and refusing to let you move. "Yes, you can! You're gonna take whatever I give you- ohhh fuck, fuck! Such a good little cocksleeve- hnngh! Always so fucking good, just for me!" Adam praised you as he sunk his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, a mixture of your sweat and his saliva coating your delicate skin.

With a pathetic whimper, you struggled against the grip he had on your thighs, but your efforts were futile against the strength of his hands. Your nails dug harshly into his forearm, leaving crescent shaped marks on his downy covered skin as your fingers drew incessant circles on your clit, trying to recover that lost orgasm on your own. "Oh my god, I'm gonna fucking cream, Adam, please, please just-!" you whined, squirming in his grasp even more when he reached and pulled your hand away. "No, no, no, please- fuuuck! ... -don't make me stop, p-please Adam, I'm so fucking close!"

"Shh, shh, shh, I know, baby!" Adam whispered in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he began to thrust up into you once more, his strokes languid and deliberate. "A-Adaaammm-!" another cry of his name escaped as you panted heavily, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips, allowing you to brace your feet on the frame of the couch. He held you tightly though, preventing you from moving at all as he slid out until only the head of his cock remained in the warm grip of your tight walls.

"Fuuuuckkk-" Adam groaned loudly, fucking his tip into you with stuttering minute thrusts, struggling to hold himself back a few more seconds as the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. Gradually, he pushed further in, walls so pliant as the engulfed his hard shaft, slowly picking up the pace once he was sure your release had ebbed. He didn't want to stop, he wanted to keep going, like you had been begging him to do each time he would deny you that sweet, sweet release. But he didn't know when he'd get another chance like this, so he was trying to make the most of this one night, just as he did every other night you showed up on his doorstep.

"Marry me," he whispered, voice low and husky as he breathed heavily against your ear. "I want you to come home, baby. Be my wife again."

"A-Adam, let me cum, please just let me cum, I need to-!" you sobbed, your hips jerking against his hands in an attempt to gain some more friction.

"Nuh-uh, not until you say you're gonna come back to me."

"Adam!"

"That's not a yes."

Adam wanted to make you see that he was the only one that could please you, that could give you everything you could ever need or want. He was prepared to do this all night if he had to. He'd bring you to the brink of ecstasy, only to deny you that final push until you realized no other choice could hold a candle to him. He was determined to fuck you so well, you wouldn't be able to even look at another person, let alone spend a single night in their bed. They didn't deserve you. No other man deserved you, only him, and he wasn't going to stop until you saw it too.

Another sob tore through your lips as you threw your head back, biting into your bottom lip until blood began to roll down your chin, mixing with your salty tears and the remnants of his cum as he slowed down once more. He always did this whenever you climbed into his bed, always asked you to come back, to be his wife again as if all the problems that ended your marriage in the first place had disintegrated into dust. And just like every other time, you would tell him exactly what he wanted to hear, both of you knowing full well that they were just words said in the heat of the moment.

"Yes, yes, fine, I'll come back!" you whimpered, squirming even more as you felt his lips stretch into a wide grin at your words. "I'll fucking marry you again Adam, j-just please-!" you begged him, reaching up to grab a fistful of his hair, the sting of your grip drawing a low groan from his throat. Satisfied with your answer, Adam, placed several kisses to your neck and jaw, loosening his grip to allow you room to move. "That's fucking right, you will," he mumbled under his breath, pressing his lips to your temple, breathing in the scent of your shampoo mixed with sweat as that familiar smacking sound of skin on skin filled the room once more.

"Shiiit- just listen to you," Adam grunted as he picked up the pace, reaching for his phone lying on the cushion next to him. "So fucking drunk on my cock now, all you can do is moan like a bitch in heat," he prattled on as he opened the camera, pressing record as he angled it to get a good shot of your cunt.

"Look at that, baby," Adam demanded, grabbing a fistful of your hair and directing your gaze to his screen. "F-fucking look at how I'm splitting you open! Been a while sin- nngh! -ce you were stretched out like this, huh?" Doing what he bid you to do, you stared down at the screen with half-lidded eyes, watching as he impaled you on his prick over, and over, and over again, fucking himself impossibly deeper into you with every thrust until your eyes crossed.

"Goooddd-!" another pathetic cry as you began to bounce, tired of waiting for him to reach that pace that had you seeing stars. Adam didn't seem to mind though, excited by the way you mindlessly chased the release he'd denied you so many times. Grabbing hold of your hip and helping you to slam yourself back down, his length twitched within you as his own end was steadfastly approaching. "Fuck, fuck! Keep going, fucking slut, keep bounching on my fucking cock like that!" he urged you on, struggling to hold the camera steady so he could watch how your greedy cunt swallowed him whole, your essence coating his length and leaving a thick white ring at the base of his cock.

"H-hah, hah, fuck- ... bet ol' needle dick would love to hear what you actually sound like when you cum," Adam spoke through gritted teeth, matching your movements as he frantically bucked up into you at a wild pace, the obscene squelching sound made by each thrust being the only thing you could hear now. "Did you fake it with him? To make him feel like more of a man, like he wasn't the biggest fucking cuck?" he asked you, knowing damn well you were too far gone to process anything he said by the way your hips stuttered in their rapid bouncing.

"More, more, more!"

Reaching down once again, Adam pressed the palm of his hand to your puffy clit, slowing his thrusts long enough to slip two fingers into your dripping core alongside his cock. "How's about we show him the right way to make you squirt, hm?" he asked, his words cutting through the white noise momentarily until he curled his fingers to rub against your spongy g-spot, the pleasure clouding your mind once more. "Oh fuck me, right there-!" you gasped, grinding down against his hand and cock.

"Right here, baby?" Adam breathed against your neck, thrusting his fingers into you at the same pace as his cock, the meat of his large hand slapping against the overstimulated pink nub, the wet smacking sound bouncing off the walls and flooding your senses.

"M-mmhmm, mmhmm! Right fucking there! Harder!"

"Yeah? You want it harder?" he babbled as he continued to rail you, your tits bouncing in tandem with each snap of his hips against your ass, his balls tightening as that coil in the pits of his belly wound up almost to a painful degree. Nodding your head in response, you arched your back as your loud cries of pleasure suddenly fell silent - your vision blurring as wave after wave of blissful ecstasy crashed over you and your essence gushes from your throbbing cunt.

A couple moments of silence go by before you're sucking in air greedily, chest heaving and walls spasming around his thick cock and fingers, grip unrelenting. Adam whispered praises in your ear as he ended the video, tossing the phone aside and grabbing both of your hips after pulling his slick covered digits from your pulsing heat.

"So fucking good, sucking me in-! Fuck!" Adam shouted over and over again as he pounded into you from below, your body going limp against his as he used your quivering hole, the relentless pursuit of his pleasure brutal and unyielding. Snapping his hips at a wild pace, his words were nothing more than white noise to you now, much like the sounds of skin slapping against skin punctuated by his grunts of exertion.

"Take it, take my fucking cock! O-oh, fuck-!"

Adam's hips began to stutter, and with a few more thrusts, he was emptying his balls into you, a mixture of your essences creating a white ring around the base of his cock. He fucked you through his high, deaf to your cries for mercy for a few more seconds before he began to slow down.

Eventually his hips came to a full stop, breathless gasps for air as his muscles relaxed and he loosed the bruising grip he had on your hips. Adam pressed several tender kisses to your skin where he had bitten you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly, your wings pressed haphazardly to his skin as you basked in the afterglow.

When he felt a shiver run up your spine, Adam wrapped his golden wings around both your forms to provide you with some warmth, enjoying the silence as sleep began to creep back in for you both.

"... You gotta stop asking me to marry you when we're fucking."

Adam snorted at your remark, rubbing soothing circles to your stomach as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"Sure. I'll stop just as soon as you quit showing up on my doorstep at 2 in the morning bitchin' about having to fake an orgasm to protect Bitchass Brady's fragile little ego."

"I told you not to... oh, what the fuck ever. I don't give a shit anymore," you mumbled, rolling your head to press a kiss to his temple and wrapping your hands around his wrist, a content sigh falling from your lips as your heart rate returned to normal. More silence ensued, and when Adam noticed your breathing slow down, he realized that you had fallen asleep, smirking as his ego soared ever higher from just the idea of fucking you so good that you passed out.

"Get some sleep, babe," Adam whispered to you softly, pulling his cock free from your sloppy cunt and twisting until you both were laying on the couch chest to chest. Wrapping one arm around your sleeping figure, he reached for his phone once again and quickly typed in Brady's number in a new message.

With a few more taps to his screen, Adam yawned heavily once he pressed 'send'. Tossing it to the coffee table and wrapping his other arm around you, he soon joined you in the lad of dreams, smiling triumphantly when he thought about Brady watching the video he just took of you.

7:48 A.M.

DING!

... ... ...

"ADAM!"

"... What? What did I do?"

story ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ header ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ dividers ┊ ◜ kodaswrld ✧ fanguro ◞ summoning ┊ ◜ @hazelfoureyes ✧ @minkdelovely ✧ @sugoi-writes ✧ @fraugwinska ✧ @macabr3-barbi3 ◞

Please do not copy or repost as your own! Thank you!

[gureumz]

grateful sinners

rating: explicit

member: jake

premise: growing up in a religious community (a cult?), you and your friend jake stumble upon "forbidden" media one day. of course, you know about sex but what the elders taught you was never this dirty. overcome with curiosity, you promise each other to never speak of what you're about to do to anyone.

notes: religious themes, implied cult behavior, slight (?) blasphemy, virgin!jake x virgin!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), first time, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, desperate touch-starved, jesus loving virgins tryna fuck

a/n: third of my 1k follower special! can you tell i have deep religious trauma? lmaoooo but this was rlly fun to write, if not a little tedious but i enjoyed it nonetheless! hope you do, too &lt;3

the day was as beautiful as any other.

the early morning sun peeking behind the nearby hill, the smell of wet grass, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair.

you breathe in more of the valley air, letting your eyes close for a moment. everything is so still, hours and hours before the first worship of the day when the whole commune will surely come fully alive. at this moment, you're sure you're closer to God than ever.

a whispered prayer breaks the silence.

"i do not deserve such beauty before me, God," you mumble, eyes still closed. "but you are most merciful and i, a grateful sinner."

a silence, still. nothing or no one responds to your profession of gratitude, but that is to be expected. God works silently, as the elders say.

"i'm deciding if the beauty is on the horizon in front of us or in your face, ________," a voice breaks through, shattering the tranquil veil that envelops you.

you turn and you can't help the jolt in your chest. you grin widely and jake smiles back, hands in his pockets and his pants already soaked with morning dew from the grass.

"don't say that," you warn. "my mom might hear."

jake makes a show of looking around, gazing past you at the squat houses sitting peacefully without movement.

"i don't see her," jake says with a shrug. you laugh.

"you know how she hates it when people make light of God's word. your jokes are definitely her least favorite," you remind him, stepping closer.

jake eyes you. being noticeably taller and broader, it gives him the perfect view of your face as the dawn sun hits your delicate features.

his hair is messy, partly sticking to his forehead with the other half of his raven locks hanging over his eyes. you know his father would berate him for that. children of the pastor are expected to appear presentable in front of the whole commune as a way to honor God and his divine image.

but the commune is nowhere to be seen. it's just you looking.

and jake is used to you looking.

growing up together, with his mom and yours being close friends, your mother's unwavering devotion to the commune, and her undying support to jake's father's cause as pastor, it's no surprise that the two of you have been inseparable.

despite the clear division between the men and women of the commune, you and jake always found your way to each other. sneaking in glances, waving from afar before you start mass, and even despite your own mother's prudish ways, you know she felt at ease when jake was around you.

nothing has been said, but you're sure that when both of you reach the age of matrimony, you'd be wed to each other. you have to be.

"what are you doing out here so early?" you continue with a question, resisting the urge to toy with the wisps of hair on jake's temples.

you're forbidden to touch or be touched by any man that isn't your family. the only exception to this is his father, the pastor, free to lay his healing hands upon anyone he deems in need of it.

jake parts his lips to answer but pauses, as if choosing the appropriate thing to say.

"some of my friends and i wanted to hang out by the river," jake supplies, gesturing toward the general direction of the river just beyond the hill.

"doing what?" you ask. the men are usually tasked with heavy farm work in the morning. in your mind, a leisurely stroll by the river before all that labor seemed hardly reasonable.

jake hesitates again, now toying with his bottom lip, the plump, rosy skin growing even redder with every pinch jake delivers to it.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say, flashing jake a reassuring smile.

"i'm not lying," jake replies almost instantly, a nervous spark in his eyes. "we really were by the river. we were...looking at something."

you cock your head to the side. jake comes even closer and the hairs on your arm stand on end, the faint scent of jake's sweat and soap reaching your nose. if you reach out now, you could easily wrap both arms around him, pull him close, and never let go.

"jay's dad brings our harvest to the nearby city market, right? well, jay went with him yesterday and he nicked this...book or something from the gas station," jake rambles, fidgeting with his fingers.

your eyes widen.

"it was glossy and the pages smelled nice. we don't have those kinds of books here, don't we?" jake continues, but your ears have started ringing in alarm.

"jay stole? jake, you know he needs to confess and repent," you whisper, taken aback.

jake gives you a look and you nearly tremble at the intensity in his irises. without warning, jake lets his fingertips graze your arm, instantly pulling away right after. you flinch, cradling your arm against your chest as if you've been burned.

"it's wrong, i know, but...haven't you thought of breaking the rules, even once? some of the people here talk about all the exciting things they've seen or done before, all because they broke one small rule. do you ever stop to think that it could be...fun?" jake questions, voice low. his eyes are wide and shaking, darting to and fro as if committing your whole face to memory.

"i—," you begin, unsure of what to say. you have thought of asking, even begging your mom to let you out into the city for one day. to see all the outsiders and their strange clothes and loud music.

but you could never go through with it. your mom would tell the pastor of your sinful curiosity the minute the words would leave your mouth.

"stealing is not breaking one small rule," you protest.

jake huffs out a breath. "aren't you tired of all of this? all of this forbidden stuff?"

you shake your head, trying to wrap your head around the words coming out of jake's mouth.

"your father's the pastor, jake," you say, voice trembling. "how could you..."

"the book had these pictures," jake cuts in, voice picking up as if it excited him to recount what he saw.

"the women in the book...they were naked."

you take a step back, clamping a hand down on your mouth.

"jake, what's gotten into you?" you question, heart beating wildly.

"i just want to know about the outside world, ________," jake reasons, running a hand through his hair.

"it's not as bad as the elders make it out to be," jake continues. "i haven't burst into flames, have i?"

you merely stare, uneasy at how blatant jake is about his sinful acts.

"do you want to see? i could borrow it from jay," jake offers, voice dropping to an even quieter whisper.

you stand there, a million different thoughts running through you. in all honesty, you wanted to take a look, never having seen any naked body other than your own. but even now, knowing that she was nowhere near, you could feel your mother's burning gaze on you. disappointed, intimidating, warning you to be a good child of God or face the wrath of hell.

you know this is wrong, or so you've been told. jake is treading a dangerous path and he seems adamant on roping you along. and yet...

"yes," you answer before you could stop yourself.

"b-but wait! how are you going to show me? we have to be careful," you hurriedly add, glancing around in case anyone was near enough to hear the atrocities you and jake are talking about.

"there's a secret back room in one of the barns. i go there to rest during breaks or after work and no one else ever goes there," jake hurriedly says, crowding back into your personal space. you notice the slight shake in his hands and the way his ears redden.

"o-okay," you say with a nod. "when?"

"later tonight," jake offers.

"during supper, we can sneak out while everyone else eats," jake continues. you feel his fingers on your arm again and this time, jake lets his whole hand flatten against the sleeve of your dress, his warmth seeping down to your skin.

you gasp, but stay frozen. jake's other hand lays on your waist and you shake uncontrollably, both terrified and excited at the prospect of jake touching you.

jake pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. he's breathing just as hard as you.

"you know, i thought about...if you would look the same as the women in the book," jake murmurs, eyes closed.

you shiver. you should be appalled, disgusted by how jake is acting now, but all you feel is a warm, bubbling feeling in your abdomen and an insatiable itch to clutch at jake's clothes.

"jake, we can't—," you begin, but the deep toll of the church bell interrupts you, signaling the start of the day.

you and jake spring apart, knowing that the whole commune would be outside in a matter of minutes, heading off to their designated duties for the day.

before you could get another word in, jake rushes forward, kissing you. you gasp, but as if on instinct, your hands grasp at his face. a second later, you thread your fingers through his hair, the strands offering little resistance as you gently tug, just as you've always dreamed of doing. but as quickly as it started, jake pulls away, pushing you back at the same time.

"tonight," jake breathes out, walking backward. "at dinner. the last barn to the left."

you nod once, pausing for a moment as you watch jake tread further away from you. you wave before sprinting toward your house.

your mother would be in the kitchen. you would be assigned with peeling the oranges. or cooking the eggs. or buttering the toast.

to you, at this moment, it didn't really matter.

all your eyes could see, all your heart could feel is jake.

---

dinner was a tense affair.

your mom questioned your uncharacteristic early start this morning, and all you could do was supply a pathetic lie about wanting to see the rose garden started by some of the older women in the commune.

she made a point to warn you to be on time for dinner. you felt an uneasiness settle in your stomach at this, thinking of all the ways your and jake's plan could go wrong.

but rushing out of the mess hall now, legs pumping as you dash through the field toward the barns, all of your worries melt away.

you remember the kiss, jake's fingers digging into your side, his smooth hair in between your fingers.

having separate dining halls for the men and women, you weren't sure when jake would be there, but you decided you had to leave as soon as you can. you feigned a stomachache to your mother, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

you knew this was yet another lame excuse, but you went the rest of the day without seeing jake. you were subjected to teach the younger ones about scripture today at the school, but all you wanted was to feel jake again. to see him. to touch him.

you slow down as you approach the barns, jogging over to the last one to the left. your breathing is heavy, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. another shiver of excitement goes through you as you push the barn door open.

the barn is one of the unused ones, a single light turned on at the very back. you walk toward the dim bulb, the glass-encased fluorescent hanging precariously by a thin wire.

you realize quite belatedly that jake never gave any specifics on how to find the secret room. but just then, you hear a faint shuffle to your left. despite the darkness, you can make out the faint outline of a head peeking out from behind a stack of hay.

"jake," you whisper, crossing the space between you in long strides.

jake emerges from the shadows, an easy smile on his face.

"it's back here," jake ushers you behind the tower of hay, his hand easily finding yours. "hurry, before anyone sees us."

you tighten your grip on jake's hand, the same feeling of exhilaration building up within you. you watch as jake approaches the section of the wall that's hidden behind the hay, pulling open a flimsy door that's half your height, cleverly disguised as part of the wall. inside, you can barely make out the soft flickering of candlelight.

jake nudges you forward. "it's a tight squeeze but it's comfortable enough inside."

you crouch, laying your hands on the dirt floor to steady yourself. you scurry forward through the door and emerge on the other side.

the space inside the room is enough for two, tall enough for you to stand in. you straighten up, dusting yourself off. jake follows inside, shutting the door behind him.

you look around and spot a metal box in one corner next to the single candle burning. a blanket is spread out on the ground.

"here," jake says, pulling you gently towards the blanket. you sit down, perching yourself right across jake.

jake takes hold of the metal box, unlatching the lid. inside, you can see a number of trinkets and other objects.

"are those...cigarettes?" you ask in disbelief. jake chuckles, brandishing the red and white box.

"found them in dad's safe," jake replies nonchalantly. "this one, too."

jake holds up a glossy rectangle, flipping it so it faces you. you let out an audible gasp.

"a phone? but we're not allowed phones," you say, letting jake place the device on your palm.

"i know. but that's my dad's. you know how the elders are the only ones allowed phones. so, i took his." jake is grinning now, the candlelight casting sharp shadows across his handsome face.

"but, how? doesn't he notice? what's in it?" you rattle off, turning the phone over in your hands.

"i bring it back every night once i'm done exploring what's inside," jake explains. he reaches over, pressing a button on its side. a moment later, it lights up, momentarily blinding you with how close you're holding it to your face.

you stare in awe as the screen comes alive. it dims after it fully turns on, displaying in big, blocky letters the time of night.

6:51

supper would be over soon.

jake takes the phone from you, setting it down on the blanket between you two.

"we can look at that later," jake reassures. "i got the book from jay at lunch today."

you swallow as jake pulls out the book from the very bottom of the box. jake moves the candle closer and your eyes instantly go wide.

the front of the book is glossy, indeed, just like jake said it would be. but the woman pictured on it seemed too lifelike, as if she wasn't merely printed on paper. her tan skin is on full display, with nothing covering her body but a bathing suit, one you've seen outsiders wear the few times you've seen pictures of them.

the bathing suit is black, the neckline going down almost to her stomach. you see the side of her breasts peek out from the garment holding it in place, and from what you can see, her whole back seems to be bare.

your eyes drift down to her crotch, covered by a thin strip of fabric. she stands, legs apart, her hands on her waist, baring her entire naked body to the world.

the longer you stare, the hotter you feel. an ache between your legs starts to make itself known.

"there's even more inside," jake whispers, sidling up to you. he presses his shoulder against yours as he reaches over to flip the book open.

your eyes scan the text on the next page, coming across a word you don't hear or see often.

"magazine," you mumble. a memory pings in your head.

"mom told me about magazines. this is a magazine," you say in mild amazement. "she says they're full of lies and are forbidden in the commune."

"magazine," jake repeats, drawing out the word slowly. he flips through more pages, stopping at one with a woman pushing her naked chest out.

your heartbeat quickens. you trace your finger over the picture, passing over the image of her plump breast, perky with a pinkish hue around the nipple.

you recall the science classes at the school. the teacher had recited the parts of the woman's body in a flat, monotonous voice. nipple. areola. vagina. cervix. she drilled it in everyone's head that these parts are not to be said aloud outside of the classroom.

"mine doesn't look like that," you comment absentmindedly. "they're not as...round."

you look up to see jake staring intently at you. his eyes drift down to your chest and you feel a new wave of heat wash over you.

jake licks his lips as he shifts closer, and as if compelled by his own actions, you do the same, facing jake fully.

you touch the buttons on the front of your dress.

you know what you're about to say and do next is beyond sinful. but you've already crossed the line the second you laid your eyes upon the magazine. a strange desire bubbles up inside you.

"do you want to see?" you ask quietly, watching jake's expression carefully.

"can i?" jake asks back, peering into your eyes. you can smell him again, faint lavender adding to the mix of his scent. you imagine jake in the bath, naked, water and bubbles washing over his skin.

you shudder involuntarily.

"yes," you breathe out.

you start to undo your dress, hands shaking. you've never done this before. you're forbidden to. you know God watches you now with disdainful eyes, but you can hardly find it in you to care.

you undo the last button, pulling the sleeves of your dress down and off your arms. the night is chilly and you shiver as the air meets your skin.

unmarried women in the commune are advised not to wear bras as they are still considered pure and innocent and in no need of such womanly garments.

so you sit, barechested in front of jake, shaking in the cold, in anticipation, in mild fear.

jake's jaw goes slack, taking in the image in front of him. he glances back at the magazine before returning his gaze to your own breasts. you resist the urge to cross your arms.

instead, you reach over, delicate fingers wrapping around jake's wrists. you guide them up, stopping right above your waiting chest.

"here," you whisper, but your voice sounds strangely loud in the silence of the night. "touch me, jake,"

you place his hands over your mounds and you gasp at the abrupt warmth. jake chews on his lip, fingers softly kneading your skin.

"do you touch yourself like this?" jake asks, eyes still wide in amazement and curiosity. he gives a light squeeze and you whimper, covering your mouth to stop yourself from crying out.

"sometimes," you say, voice slightly muffled behind your palm. "in the bath. when no one's looking."

jake exhales, pulling his hands back momentarily. he lines his pointer finger with your nipples, flicking up experimentally. you groan, throwing your head back.

"it feels good," you breathe out. "jake, it feels good all over."

jake pinches your nipples and you yelp, falling forward against jake. he catches you, cradling you to his chest. you breathe onto his neck, a warm stickiness pooling under your skirt.

"touch me, too," jake says right in your ear. he guides your hand on his crotch and your fingers curl around something stiff.

"please," jake implores, voice high and almost whining.

you watch in fascination as jake strains against his trousers. you caress up and down, feeling him harden even more under your touch. jake squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"sit over me," jake commands, pulling you onto his lap. there's a loud roaring in your ears as something overtakes your body completely.

"keep touching me and i'll do the same," jake instructs, returning his hands to your chest. he curls his fingers into your flesh and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

you take ahold of jake through his pants, squeezing and rubbing. jake is bucking into your hand, small breaths escaping his lips.

your head is spinning, your cheeks are flushed, and a faint guilt tugs at your chest. but you've thrown all care out the window, the only thing on your mind being jake's rough fingers tugging and pinching and grabbing at your breasts.

the bubble of heat in this little room breaks when you hear the dark notes of the church bell ringing, marking the end of supper.

you gasp, pulling away from jake as he does the same. you hurriedly button up your dress, trying to calm your breathing. jake gathers the things strewn on the floor, tossing them back into his box.

you stand, smoothing down your dress and tucking your hair back behind your ear. no words are spoken as jake blows the candle out, pushing the door open to free both of you.

you scramble out of the small space, heart still pumping wildly against your chest. you feel jake's hand rest on one side of your face, urging you to look at him.

"meet me by the river early tomorrow," jake says, now holding your face with both hands.

you blink, unsure of what to say. the rush of blood is still loud in your ears and all you want is for jake to touch you again. to keep touching you.

to touch you forever.

"please," jake adds, running his thumb over your bottom lip. you quiver at the action, stilling only when you feel him press his lips against yours.

your lips part and so does his, and as if guided by something else, your tongues move into each other's mouths, licking and sucking and breathing into and from each other.

you feel dirty, sinful even. but you start to wonder why you cared so much in the first place.

"tomorrow," jake repeats, pulling away.

the bells toll even louder. you run out of the barn without a second thought, eyes dancing with excitement, lips tender, and one single button of your dress undone.

---

you toss and turn all night.

flashes of jake invade your mind, pulling you out of sleep just as you feel yourself drifting. the way he breathed against your face. the stiffness in your hand. the pleading in his voice.

you prayed, too. prayed to God for forgiveness, for mercy. but you prayed for jake, too. to feel his lips again, to have his hands on other parts of your body.

you cry, quietly and pathetically, ashamed in the face of God. ashamed because the arousal hasn't left you. it burns almost painfully and you wish and you pray and you beg for morning to come.

you glance at the clock next to your bed and see that it's half past five a.m. you ran into jake at six yesterday, so he should be at the river by now if you're to go off of that.

you quickly dress yourself, careful to keep your movements precise and quick so as to not wake anyone in your house.

you practically float down the stairs on your toes, nimbly avoiding all the loose floorboards you know would make a sound.

you steal one glance back inside your house before taking off. you walk at first, trying to calm your nerves, but you build up to a run once you pass through the fence's gate, feeling the morning air whipping at your face.

the climb up the hill, usually a strenuous effort on your end, seems like nothing on this day, your legs taking you over it in no time.

you can see the river now, and you see the faraway figure of someone hunched over, sitting on the riverbank. excitement rips through you and you're running, running faster than you've ever had.

jake hears you before he sees you, your breathing loud and labored and your boots stomping against the wet grass. he turns to see you slowing down to a jog as you approach him.

he stands, wordlessly meeting you as you sink into his arms.

you kiss and the roar of desire is back, a single flame flickering in the blue-hued, early-morning world that surrounds you.

jake pulls you towards an area behind a large tree, and you see that the same blanket from last night is laid out on the grass. without parting your lips, jake pulls you down with him on the spread-out cloth, laying you down.

"i watched things on dad's phone last night," jake admits, kissing your jaw. you squirm underneath him, his lips sending a ticklish sensation over you.

"i watched people do it," jake murmurs against your skin, lips dragging down your neck.

"i watched them make love."

you pull jake away from where he's kissing you behind your ear, a questioning look on your face.

"you can...watch people make love? on the phone?" you ask meekly, trying to understand how some people can let such a sacred act be seen by anyone other than themselves and God.

jake nods, hands smoothing up your sides. "yes. and they do it so loudly, so roughly, so vulgarly. not like how we're taught."

you stare, wide-eyed. "what?"

"they curse a lot," jake adds. "and they call on God's name so much. we're told to never do that unless in praise."

your breath hitches when you feel jake smooth his hands over your clothed chest. you feel your nipples stiffen under his touch.

"what if it felt so good to them, they needed to call on God?" you whisper. jake ponders on this for a moment, eyes scanning over your face.

"i want to feel as good as them," jake finally says. he starts to undo your dress, the same way you did last night.

"we're going to...to make love?" you ask as jake slots himself between your legs. you feel the same stiffness from last night press up against your thigh.

"please," jake responds, pulling your dress open. your nipples are taut, begging to be touched.

jake dips his head down, latching his mouth onto one of your nubs, sending your whole body spasming. you moan, a new kind of pleasure coursing through your veins. jake presses his hips onto yours, right between your legs and you nearly cry at how good the pressure feels.

you push your core against jake's own crotch, swiveling your hips around trying to find the delicious friction you felt.

"i want to, please. i want to, so bad," jake pleads against your chest.

jake bunches your skirt around your torso, exposing your lower half and the thin, white, commune-approved underwear you have.

"please," you whine, not even sure of what you're saying.

"me, too. make love to me, jake."

jake groans, sitting upright, hands already tugging at his belt. he undoes the buckle, unzipping his pants before pulling the garments down to his thighs.

you stare half in awe and half in curiosity as jake strokes himself a few times. a clear liquid spills from the tip and you feel your mouth involuntarily water.

"can i take this off?" jake asks, hooking a finger under the hem of your underwear. you nod, cringing slightly as you feel the sticky fabric pull away from your skin as jake discards of it.

"it's so wet," jake observes, reaching down to run a finger between your folds.

"ngh!" you cry out, twitching at the sudden contact. no one has ever touched you down there. you've never touched yourself down there other than to wash.

jake presses the pads of his fingers against your core, rubbing lightly. you throw your head back, thighs already shaking.

"does this feel good?" jake asks, pressing down harder. you nod again, unable to form any coherent thoughts or sentences.

"i saw that they did this," jake says before plunging a finger into your hole.

stars burst right before your eyes when you feel jake push his thick digit into you. the feeling is foreign, a weird pressure but pleasurable nonetheless.

jake pumps it in and out of you, observing your face as he does so. you open your eyes to meet his and you see jake's pupils blown wide, his whole face a light tint of pink.

"still good?" jake asks.

"yes," you gasp, your hips pushing off the ground as you try to chase more of this feeling.

"some of them...," jake begins, pausing his movements. you start to protest but your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel jake push in another finger.

"...use two."

a slight burn at the added stretch makes you wince, your hand coming down to grab jake's wrist.

"s-slowly," you supply, opening your legs wider. jake nods in understanding, moving his fingers at a gentler pace.

you mewl, feeling the drag of his knuckles against your inner walls. you're dizzy with pleasure, overwhelmed with the thought that something could feel this good.

"it keeps coming out of you," jake says in awe. "you're getting even wetter."

"it feels so good," you gasp. "jake, please."

"what should i do?" jake asks, leaning over you. you look up, jake's face right in front of yours. not knowing what else to do, you pull him down to you in a kiss.

jake moans against your lips, speeding up his movements in and out of you. you cry into the kiss, never wanting this feeling to end.

"i-i'll put it in," jake whispers into your mouth.

jake pulls his fingers out of you and you fight the instinct to whine. jake sits back on his heels, watching as you clench around nothing.

you see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of your dripping core, his hand coming down to pump at his shaft.

"it might hurt," jake warns. "that's what they told us."

you smile weakly. "us, too."

jake grins back at you, scooting forward to line himself up with you. jake presses the tip against your hole, watching for your reaction. he slides a little more in, and you let out a squeak.

"it's much bigger than your fingers," you say, with slight panic in your voice.

"i'm here," jake says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "you'll be okay."

you feel jake push in some more and your whole body jerks in surprise. tears prickle your eyes but you focus on evening out your breathing. underneath the evident sting, a steady throb of pleasure beats down in your core.

"it feels so warm," jake gasps out. "God help me."

jake sinks all the way in, unable to contain himself, and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling jake deep in you. you're afraid to move in case it starts to hurt more.

"f-fuck," jake curses, hips pulling back before sinking all the way in again. you cover your mouth with both hands, unsure of all the feelings you're having at the moment.

"i'm sorry," jake whispers, kissing your cheek, then your nose, then both of your eyes. "i-it feels too good."

"it's okay," you reply, trying to contain the tremor in your voice. "keep going. it feels better now."

and it does. the more jake moves, the more you could relax. jake hits a spot inside you that completely overrides the nearly unbearable stretch and it takes everything in you not to double over in surprise.

"again," you say. "just like that."

jake stops for a moment before repeating the angle in which he thrusted in you.

there it is again. a jolt of electricity goes through your abdomen and you shudder in delight.

"yes!" you cry out. "m-more."

jake picks up his speed, careful to keep it the same way you like it. it's as if the gates of heaven themselves have opened, showing you a world of pleasure you've never seen or experienced before.

the stretch has dulled now, and the fullness you feel adds to the coil in your stomach, tighter and tighter with each thrust.

you wrap your legs around jake's waist, wanting him, needing him closer.

jake lays himself over you, his chest pressed to yours, his hips moving nonstop. you've started to meet his movements, chasing something you're not quite sure exactly what.

"it does feel good," you manage to say between moans. "so good."

jake pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you.

"have you ever finished before?" jake questions. your eyebrows pinch together and you shake your head. jake slows down, grinding into you shallowly.

"finished?" you repeat.

"yeah, when you pleasure yourself, you finish," jake recounts. you shake your head again.

"we're not allowed to, remember? i've never touched myself that way," you admit bashfully.

"it's okay," jake reassures, kissing you softly. "you'll feel it here."

jake lays a hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down. you inhale, fingernails digging into jake's shoulder.

"move faster," you request. "but keep pressing there."

jake looks at you in bewilderment but follows nonetheless. he picks up his pace again, still keeping his hand on your stomach. you feel a pressure build up where jake is pressing and you feel your whole body shake.

"you're getting tighter," jake says through gritted teeth, trying to maintain his movements.

"s-sorry, feels too good," you apologize.

"i think i feel it," you add. "keep going, please."

this sends jake into a frenzy, hips snapping at a speed you can't keep up with. you let out a sob as you feel your entire being ignite with every push of jake's shaft in you.

"i can feel myself," jake points out. "i can feel myself through your belly, God."

the words confuse you but you look down to see jake protruding through your lower abdomen with every thrust. the sight sends your brain into overdrive and you moan your loudest as a white-hot current rips through you.

you vaguely hear jake groan as he roughly grabs your hips, keeping you in place. he pumps in and out of you a few more times before stopping. you continue to swivel your hips, squirming at the strange sensation that's taking over your body.

eventually, you relax, feeling strangely peaceful. you feel lightheaded but in the best way, as if you're floating on clouds.

jake grunts, pulling himself out of you. the sensation makes you cringe and you feel something drip out between your legs.

"is that—is that your seed?" you ask in mild disbelief, though still too out of it to care much.

"yeah," jake says, nodding, collecting the drops of himself that spilled out before poking his finger back in you.

"jake!" you protest, still much too sesitive.

jake pulls his finger out and grins at you. he settles beside you, pulling you onto his chest.

---

the church bell tolls not long after.

the early morning sun rises above the tree line, and if you were to stand on the other side of the hill, you would have watched the orange glow with amazement and bated breath.

there's a breeze that blows through your messy hair and the smell of morning dew on the grass is mixed with jake's lavender soap.

breathing in the valley air, another prayer falls quietly from your lips.

"we do not deserve your forgiveness," you say . "but you are most merciful and we, are merely grateful sinners."

[shalomsexual]

SPECIAL CALL

Prompt: In which Reader is at work but receives a 'special' call from her girlfriend.

Warnings: Phone sex, f!ingering, dirty talk

Game: Path to nowhere

A/n: This is my first time writing phone sex so please excuse the brain of my last two brain cells 🙏

Working for the Quinn company wasn't an easy task; and your position at the prestigious company certainly wasn't one to be taken lightly. As the head of the finance department, you were tasked with several tedious jobs that required your attention at all times. CEO Eirene has always expected good results to come from the financial aspect of her company because she knew you were capable and determined and a mindset like that could get you far places.

However, what you didn't expect was the receive a phone call from your girlfriend- Eleven. Eleven and you had been dating for a year and a half now. Your relationship was progressing slowly but surely, you were aware that she was a sinner but did you care? Hell to the fuck no. You practically work for a sinner so you didn't mind. You are aware of her job as a radio host and you absolutely love her program. Eleven was a daring one to say the least. She constantly makes flirtatious comments which you didn't take to heart and she was quite suggestive too. Despite dating for a while now, you both have never done the deed. Though she didn't mind, sometimes she wish you were intimate. That didn't stop the girl from fantasing about your long slender fingers, the ones she would drool over as she watched it work on a keyboard.

"Darling~" Eleven's sultry voice resounded through the ear worn microphones that was connected to your phones.

"H-hi Eleven. How are you?" As you checked the watch, you saw it was quite late and you still had some work to do so you took a short break, and talked to your girlfriend.

"You've been so busy haven't you? Hardly had the time to chat with your girlfriend but don't worry darling, I have a gift for you. Oh darling just for you~"

You nervously gulped at the so damn seductive voice, knowing its going to be more than a five minute break.

"What is the gift?"

"Oh its a special call. For my favourite listener~" the air in the room became increasingly hot so you turned on the nearby fan.

"R-really? A-are you going to sing me a song? O-or read me a story?" To say you were nervous was an understatement. Eleven let out a soft chuckle.

"Not quite. It's even better..." Silence engulfed the line before the sound of something wet was heard. It was more like a squelching sound.

"Ele-Shh... do you hear that? How wet I am for you?" She moaned softly, her velvety voice going through the phone and into your ears, tickling your brain. Your eyes widened as you immediately understood what was going on.

"Y-yeah... yeah I hear it. Oh god Eleven not now please.." Your pleas went deaf in her ears as she inserted a finger into her cunt, the soft walls enveloping her fingers.

"I wish it was your fingers. Your long slender fingers ahh~" she softly moaned, imaging it was your fingers instead of hers. "Oh y/n... I want you so bad nghhh~"

You face palmed in embarrassment, red coating your face. You felt your own arousal beginning to form. "Oh darling don't be shy... tell me what you want me to do~"

Your breaths came out in an uneven pattern. Okay maybe you enjoyed it a little right now but that doesn't mean she should continue. It's such an inappropriate- ah fuck it.

"Fuck Eleven why do you do this to me huh? You're like a needy slut. Always horny." Eleven gasped at your words, the unexpected switch in your personality made her wetter. "Add another finger love."

Without hesitation, Eleven placed the phone at an angle that would capture the elicit sounds escaping from both of her lips. She inserted another finger before slowly thrusting them in and out, slick coating her digits. "Ahh d-darling~"

"That's it. Good girl. Keep fingering yourself like that.." your praises spurred her on even more. Praising was one of her kinks. She just had to be a good girl for you; always trying her best to satisfy your needs. "Add another one baby."

"A-another one?"

"Yeah you can take it right?" Your voice had a little hesitation due to never having done phone sex with someone before. As if Eleven could sense your uneasiness, she smiled.

"I can take it darling... Just for you." She added another finger, the three digits stretching her pussy open. She felt her high slowly approaching, coming like a force. "D-darling-ahh I'm close... so close.."

"Mm you wanna come baby?"

"Yes-nghh... yes I wanna... come... p-please."

Who were you to deny your sweetheart such pleasure? "Alright love you can come."

Eleven continued thrusting her fingers, bringing her other hand to pinch her nipples. Her legs shook with zeal as she came, her juices coating the sheets and some falling onto her phone. You heard the loud erotic moans and the sound of water splashing. "O-oh darling... I have to wash your sheets." She giggled melodically.

"Yeah y...wait! Are you in my house?!" She giggled even more, falling into your pillow as she took a sniff, a breathy moan escaping her lips.

"Yes I am.. did you forget you gave me a key?" Now that she mentioned it, you did give her a key to go to your apartment whenever she wanted. With a sigh, you chuckled.

"I did forget."

"Oh my~ is your memory getting foggy from thinking about me too much, hmm?"

"N-no!"

You heard shuffling coming from the other end of the line when suddenly your phone received a message. As you picked it up, your jaw dropped. Eleven had sent you a two pictures. One where she took her fingers and spread open her pussy and the other is where she sat on your pillow, her pussy pressed flush against the softness.

"Don't expect a dry pillow when you come home, darling~"

[libby-for-life]

The Lust Potion

For 200 subscribers. A special thanks to @breedtheseed who did some wonderful art for this story. Check out their work! This is Adamsapple.

Adam was bored. Clubs in Hell, while great in theory, were so crowded and filled with sinners all trying to cop a feel of him and Angel Dust. He growled when he felt someone pull his sensitive tail. He had thought he had hidden that. Angel Dust seemed to like the attention but Adam wasn't in the mood.

He tried moving away for some fresh air, but a hand grabbed him and he was face-to-face with some wolf-looking demon. His smarmy grin made Adam shiver in disgust.

"Hey there lamby~." Ugh. Gag. Adam wrenched his hand free and glared at the wolf. "Leave me alone, asshat."

The wolf just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, slut." Adam bristled but stalked off. He just wanted to leave.

Angel Dust would be fine on his own. Stomping out of the club, a bit drunk but he was still capable of walking and speaking, he made his way to the limousine they borrowed from Charlie.

Getting inside, he sighed. God, this was a nightmare! This was supposed to be his reward for participating in Charlie’s dumb activities and 'working hard on self-improvement.' This didn't feel like a reward. He felt smothered and dirty from all the groping.

Sighing again, he decided to sleep until Angel Dust came back. He was about to close his eyes when something purple caught his eye. It was small and hidden under the seats, its glass reflecting off the pale red light of Hell. Adam smiled. Was this Angel Dust's secret stash of liquor? Nice.

Getting on his hands and knees, he pulled it out. The bottle was decorated with little black hearts, the inside glowing slightly pink. No label. No name. Oooh. The good stuff.

Adam decided to wait until he got home before drinking it.

Adam helped the spider inside and onto the couch. God, how much did he drink? "Why is he so drunk?!" Vaggie demanded, glaring up at Adam. "I'm not his babysitter, Vagina. He's a grown man in charge of his own choices. Why don't you ask him when he wakes up?" He left a fuming Vaggie as he climbed the stairs. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her sandy pussy.

His bedroom was cozy and he flopped onto his bed. Finally. Back for some peace and quiet.

Then he remembered the bottle of alcohol he had in his pocket. Damn, the stuff must be strong to only fill a small bottle. Sitting up, he took the bottle out and looked at the glowing pink liquid.

Licking his lips, he uncorked the bottle and sniffed. Sweet. Very sweet. Not really his style but considering Angel Dust preferred his sugary drinks, Adam wasn't surprised.

He took a gulp and winced at the sweetness of the pink drink. Ugh. Whatever. He was about to take another drink when he felt a warmth begin in his belly. Whoa. This stuff was strong!

He tried standing up, but his legs felt shaky for some reason. He fell to the ground, the alcoholic beverage falling to the floor. Why did everything feel so hot? He struggled to sit up but only managed that. Adam's cheeks flushed as the 'alcohol' took effect.

Everything was so warm and tingly. His body felt so sensitive. The clothes he was wearing felt itchy and Adam wanted them off.

He tried to paw at his shirt, but his hands were too warm and tingly to do anything but paw at them pathetically. He whined, the warmth in his belly spreading to his crotch. Adam was so hot and everything felt so sensitive. Why weren't his clothes coming off?!

"Adam? Charlie wanted me to—"

The lamb demon turned, looking at Lucifer who just entered his bedroom.

Lucifer just stared at the demon on the floor. He tried ignoring the position he was in and asked, "What are you doing down there?" Adam didn't say anything coherent. A whimper left his plump lips. The devil tilted his head, confused by that response. Did Adan hurt himself?

That's when he noticed it. The flush in his cheeks, the shaking posture, the drool escaping Adam's mouth, and his glazed eyes glowing pink told Lucifer there was something wrong with the lamb demon.

"Adam?"

He walked over and was about to call his name again when he kicked something. Looking down, he noticed the purple bottle on the floor, pink liquid spilling all over the wooden planks and its sweet scent filling the air. Picking it up, he examined it. Lucifer recognized it immediately. A Lust potion. Shit. Shit! How did Adam even get something like this?!

Lucifer was brought out of his thoughts by another whimper. The devil turned in time to see Adam nuzzle his crotch. He gasped in shock at the boldness. "Wait! Adam, you're—" He was cut off by another whine, a tear-filled glance up at him made Lucifer blush hard, and a part of his brain shut off. A more primal and lust-filled Lucifer took hold of his body.

His demon features poked through and he smirked at Adam’s pathetic attempt at rutting on the floor.

His poor lamb...did he have an accident? The poor thing. Did he need Daddy to help him? Kneeling, he gripped Adam's jaw and brought him close. The demon moaned at the contact.

"Oh, my little lamb. So cute and desperate like this. Want Daddy to take care of my needy little boy?" Adam whimpered and tried to get closer, his body shaking from the potion.

Lucifer chuckled and picked him up easily. Placing him on the bed, the devil ripped through his clothes, desperate to get to that supple flesh. Adam moaned as the cold air nipped at his exposed body.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Lucifer said, kissing his jaw. The lamb demon squirmed as he was peppered with small nips and bites. "So beautiful for me." Letting his snake tongue out, he slurped Adam in for a kiss. They both groaned, tasting each other as they hugged each other close.

Lucifer was quick to take charge. He gripped Adam's hair and yanked, pulling more delicious noise from him. "That's it, my little lamb. So good for me." The devil muttered as he bit along Adam's neck before looking at the demon's chest.

His lamb's chest was so big and perky. Some of it was because he was chubby but Lucifer wondered how much of it was because Adam used to objectify those particular assets and that made his demon form more feminine-like as Hell's punishment.

Lucifer didn't care. He loved them. Taking a chosen mound, he bit its nipple and watched as Adam shook in pleasure, more drool escaping his gaping mouth.

"Aw, does my lamb like that?" Lucifer teased before sucking on it. He looped his tongue around the nub and pulled before biting again.

He let go with a pop before he licked the twin on the other side. Adam was crying, writhing under the devil's touch.

A hand snaked down and caressed his lamb's dick and the lamb almost came on the spot. "Sh. Don't go cuming right now, little lamb. Just lie there and take what Daddy gives you." With a wave of the hand, Lucifer placed some magic around Adam's hard-on. He wouldn't be cuming unless Lucifer allowed him to.

Smirking at the sight of Adam whining out pleases and tears, Lucifer shuffled down and licked the shaft of the pulsing meat before him. Just like everything about Adam, it was huge.

He licked and deep-throated the appendage while he felt Adam's hole, the ring fluttering at his gentle touches. When Lucifer felt hands in his hair, he snapped his fingers. Magic pinned Adam's wrist to the bed, making him whine in protest. The devil simply spanked his thigh to reprimand the naughty lamb.

"I said to lie there and take it, little lamb. Don't make me leave you here." An empty threat. Adam needed this lust potion out of the system or it would literally burn him from the inside. But, Adam didn't know that. The whimpers and cries were brought to a sniffle making Lucifer smirk. "Good boy~."

Kissing his thigh, he went back to deep-throating Adam's cock. His lamb took it well, shaking and crying but not fighting out of the magical restraints.

Letting go of the shaking dick, he blew it a kiss before slowly taking off his own clothes. Soon, he was naked as well. The devil's cock stood proudly and he preened when his little lamb drooled even more at the sight of it.

"You see this, little lamb? It's going inside you~." Lucifer teased before lifting Adam's thighs to the headboard. He slipped the head in. His lamb was so tight! Adam moaned high, the needy lamb shaking and thighs trembling as he took the large appendage.

"That's it! Take it! You were made for taking cock!" Lucifer yelled, pounding into Adam.

The bed rocked under their combined weight and the lamb let out squeaks and little bleats as he saw stars.

He let go of the magic surrounding Adam's dick so they could both cum together, Adam's eyes were losing that pink sheen to it.

One last thrust was all it took as Lucifer came deep inside his lamb. Adam screamed as he was finally allowed to cum. "Aaaahhh~!" The Devil looked at his little lamb who gazed back up at him.

He smirked and crawled back up to put one last mark on him. Biting his neck hard enough to draw blood, he licked at the wound while Adam groaned in pleasure and overstimulation.

"Good little lamb. Now everyone will know it was you was getting fucked tonight."

"Mmm." Was all Adam could say before passing out. Lucifer just chuckled before releasing his wrists from the magical restraints. He settled his head between Adam's chest and snuggled close. Sure, he needed to know how Adam even got that Lust potion but for now, he wanted a nap.

Hope you guys enjoyed it! When I hit 400 subs, I'll do another special!

[bunnylove1]

.•Vox HC•.

•.~vox x bimbo!reader/vox x fem!reader

•.~warnings! Smut! Fluff! And some sensitive words! NOT PROOFED 

•.~how have I not done a vox x reader on my account yet he’s literally my husband ANYWAYS enjoying baby’s!

•Vox loves when you give him your big doe eyes he finds them to be your sweetest feature

•If your talking to someone who’s way to touchy but your little brain cant realise it he’ll grab your hips and pull you close to him and he’ll introduce himself to the person that was grabby “hi I’m Vox the owner of Vox tech see you’ve meet my girlfriend”

•When he’s working he lets you and Velvette to hang out knowing you and her both like fashion he thinks it’s good for you to be around someone who likes the same things you do “baby you can go help vel with her new line she doesn’t mind, don’t go out of her sight got it” he most definitely tells Velvette to not let you wonder without her there 

•He knows your not stupid (maybe a little)  just a little (A-LOT)  oblivious so he keeps you close weather it’s around others or around the towns of hell

•He calls you: “Bambi”, “Sweetheart”, “Sweetie”, “Sugar”, “My little girl”, “sweet cake” “baby cakes”, My whore”,   “Baby”, “Slut”, sometimes “Dirty girl”

•He LOVES when it’s night and you both can’t sleep so y’all are in the kitchen getting glass of water and your sitting on the counter babbling your little head off and he just goes “Baby, why don’t you drink this and rest your pretty little head huh?” MAKES ME CRUMBLE 

•Vox never EVER lets you near Val, he knows you and Val to well. “No baby you can’t talk to him” “but vox whyyyyy” “because I said so”

•If you have to be in a room with Val, Vox has you stuck to his hip no matter what “No little girl you stay near me okay”

•He loves when your babbling whatever you heard today while helping vel or whatever you watched on tv and Vox just simply kisses you to shut you up

•He loves walking around hell with you, it feeds his ego knowing that the sinners around hell would kill to have a taste of you but your Voxs and everyone knows that and he loves that he feeds off of it

•Now if you say something bratty or start having an attitude he will not hesitate to put your pretty mouth to work “Aww look all that big talks gone now that you have daddy’s cock huh?” 

•MASSIVE DADDY KINK can’t tell me other wise

•He loves when you wear your short skirts but he will not let you wear them out unless your expecting a hell of a night from him

•He likes when you wear a choker with his initials on it 

•everyone knows when yall had a intimate night because you have dark purple spots big and small everywhere on you and big teeth marks everywhere as well

•I have this head cannon that Vox doesn’t let you leave things on him one he’s a big owner and needs to look professional and two he likes being the only one to do that 

•he’ll let you leave small bits but nothing to much but that’s only on good days 

•Vox likes to dress you up, mostly like him but still in your bimbo look he liked matching he finds it endearing 

•when Voxs comes home stressed from one of vals temper tantrums he likes to use you like a big fluffy pillow and just cuddle you 

•never lets you drink while your out unless it’s a special celebration but even then you have to be supervised, can’t let his sweet girl get spiked can we?

•he has a huge turn on for public sex idk why but I think he likes the feeling of being caught/ being watched letting everyone now you are owned by him and him only

•He’ll carry your heels if your feet hurt and even carry you princess style 

•I feel like he knows how to do hair there’s no way vel hasn’t taught him, so he likes doing your hair in the mornings 

•he likes to pat your head for no reason just likes how your shorter than him so he just kinda does it 

•vox definitely likes to fuck you silly, likes seeing you drool and become a mess in front of him 

•he likes giving you baths, cause he can’t himself so he likes to wash your hair and wash your body take a load off of you 

•he’ll let you dress him up time to time 

•has a special seat for you while he’s doing a commercial or anything on tv. It’s always next to him 

•he has a good memory unlike you so he tells you what you need to grab or what you forgot you were doing and what time it is and what your doing today, basically a human calendar

•.~I DID IT OMG, I know some of them went just for bimbo reader so it’s like bimbo reader and just box head cannons, I love you darlings thank you for reading!

[wantondoe]

Birthday Sinner

Hello you dirty sinner~ (<- Did you like that, you mommy's little who-) Today's my birthday so I wanted to write something to celebrate that! I thought this would be wholesome!

Plot: You celebrate your birthday with the Hazbin Hotel characters :D (comedy) / Warnings: cursing and sexual themes, but still SWF imo (naturally) / gender neutral reader / CONTAINS SPOILERS

!! By now I've mostly written comedic stories, let me know down in the comments (or somewhere) if you have any requests. Also, I'm still pretty new to the app so please excuse my clumsiness. Anyway, enjoy! (Or don't, if you're a masochist) !!

The day before your birthday

You were casually spending an evening in the living area with the rest of the staff. You were passively scrolling through Voxtagram, when Charlie asked something.

"So, someone's birthday is coming up, huh?" Charlie spoke with a slightly hesitant voice. You raised a brow.

"Very subtle", Angel commented sarcastically.

"Aaand-", Charlie continued, "we, we were all wondering..." she awkwardly paused, seeing if anyone else would try to ask about your birthday plans. "WE WERE ALL THNKING-"

"We were thinking about throwing you a birthday party", Vaggie finished Charlie's sentence.

"Guys, that's so sweet, but... I'm much too old to celebrate my birthday... I was just planning on having a laid-back day in my room", you answer, putting down your phone.

"That sounds sad", Angel pointed out. "Come on, it'll be your birthday, toots! Loosen up a bit!"

"Angel's right", Husk agreed. "You should do something special for your big day, kiddo."

"Honestly, I've just gotten too lazy to think about throwing a party. My birthday isn't a big deal anyway..."

Nifty jumped on the sofa with you, her singular eye glowing. "Birthdays are the best! How old are you going to be?"

Alastor emerged from the shadows, his lean figure appearing behind you. "Nifty dear you should never ask someone about their age!"

"Dammit Alastor, don't sneak up on me like that!" you jolted. "Guys, I really appreciate your offers, but I don't need a huge party... Good night everyone!" That being said, you made your way upstairs towards the bedroom.

After you were gone, Charlie spoke again: "Guys, I think we should throw her the biggest, craziest birthday ever!

Birthday morning:

Today you'd spoil yourself. You'd sleep in, take a hot bath, eat a luxurious breakfast, and perhaps go on a refreshing walk in Cannibal Town.

Sitting up on the bed, you stretched your arms before walking to the bathtub. You carefully placed a fluffy towel on a stool next to the tub before sinking into the hot water. You closed your eyes, feeling the water around relaxing every muscle of yours. Finally, some relaxing alone time-

A slight frown formed between your brows as you heard Angel and Vaggie yell something in the aisle. You tried to brush it off, but it sounded like chaos emerging. Vaggie yelled something at Angel, and then there was a sound of silverware hitting the floor, followed by Angel's high pitched scream.

Alright, so that was odd. But you wouldn't let their antics ruin your peaceful morning! After you were done with the bath, you got up and carefully dried yourself. After slipping on your favorite clothes, you made your way downstairs.

Apparently, Nifty had been feeling extra productive, as she had made breakfast for everyone. There were pancakes, eggs, fruits, drinks... Everything you could imagine. They had even gotten a chocolate fountain!

"Happy birthday", the all said in unison.

"Wow, guys this is... This is amazing", you walked further into the dining area. "Is this for me...?"

"We wanted to make something special for your birthday!" Charlie clapped her hands.

"This certainly is", you take a seat between Angel and Alastor. "Thank you."

"Of course! Anything for a lovely sinner like you!" Alastor smiled, making you blush slightly.

Charlie looked smitten. "Now to sing happy birthday-"

"Don't you fucking dare", you cut in.

"I wasn't going to sing anyway", Husk admitted.

"Husk, you are a true friend", you smile at the grumpy cat demon.

"Oh, well", Charlie shrugged, "enjoy!"

Birthday, 11 am

You were craving a glass of ice water, so you made your way downstairs to the kitchen. For your surprise, you found Alastor casually standing in front of the door, efficiently blocking the way.

"Hello-!"

"Alastor, why are you blocking the door?" you stand close to him. He frowned a bit, but his wide grin remaining.

"Well, I'm afraid you can't use the kitchen right now my dear!" he explained with his usual cheerful tone.

"What? Why? The kitchen was fine in the morning!"

"My dear there's a plumbing issue!" Alastor lied effortlessly. However, the noises coming behind the door were rather unconvincing.

Vaggie behind the door: Dammit Angel I told you to use the timer!

Angel behind the door: It might still be edible, we just need to take off the burnt parts-

Vaggie behind the door: It's all burnt!

Alastor sighed at the noises coming behind the door. Soon, an intense smell of burnt food made its way through the door.

"Alastor, you lying piece of wendigo", you call him out. "I'll just grab some water-" you say, your hand reaching the doorknob.

"THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE AT THE MOMENT", Alastor rushed to say, gently smacking your hand away using his radio staff.

"For the love of all that is unholy, why won't you let me in!"

"I, uh", Alastor's charismatic persona dropped for a bit.

"You're being so weird!" you groan in frustration, marching away.

After your form was nowhere to be seen anymore, Alastor peeked his head through the door. "WHAT IS GOING ON IN THERE? Can't you two make a cake without being overly suspicious about it?"

Vaggie huffed at Alastor. "Well, you'd be welcome to make this cake, but you'd probably spoil it by using human blood anyway!"

Angel cried, holding an utterly burnt chocolate cake in his spider arms. "I did follow the recipe!"

Vaggie: "Angel, you waste of a jawline!"

Birthday afternoon

Charlie was talking on her phone in the lobby, as she spotted you. Her eyes widened and she instinctively moved to block the door.

"Not this shit again", you mutter. "Charlie, not you too! Why are you all trying to block my way everywhere?!"

"Where do you think you're going?" Charlie asked awkwardly.

"Outside, for a walk. I'm a free sinner-"

"That just won't do!" she blocked the doorway with her body.

"Dammit Charlie!" you curse, marching back in the hotel.

Charlie watched you disappear in the hotel before lifting the phone on her ear again. "Yes, dad. We need 100 balloons and a Vox-shaped pinata. Yes that was Alastor's idea..."

Birthday evening

Frustrated, you had spend your whole birthday chilling on your bed. Your eyes were already drying up from staring at your phone all day. You didn't even notice someone sneaking behind you. The last thing you remembered was something blunt hitting the back of your head before a total blackout.

You had no idea how much time had passed. You woke up, only to realize you were blindfolded. Then you panicked as you realized you were tied up on a chair. However, your panic melted away as soon as you heard the familiar voices.

Charlie: Nifty! I told you to bring them here, not to... assault them!

Nifty: Those are the same thing!

Angel: Ooh you tied them up! How kinky!

Cherry Bomb: Very sexy indeed. Am I the only one imagining them naked?

Angel: Nope.

Husk: Dammit Nifty! What if they wake up with brain damage?

Vaggie: Do we have the balloons? Also, where's Lucifer?

Charlie: Ah, dad couldn't join us, he's still recovering from the hemorrhoid surgery (if you know you know, if you don't, go read my post "Drop Dead Gorgeous"). He even had to get one of those hemorrhoid pillows!

Angel: No anal for Lucifer for a while...

Alastor: Now now, Angel, don't be lewd.

Angel: I'm bored just standing here! When is the bitch going to wake up?!

You smirk. "I am awake, Angel."

A long silence followed your statement.

Charlie: Uh, ha ha, that's great. Uh, Nifty, will you undo your... The blindfold and the ropes?

"Surprise!"

"Surprise motherfucker", Angel grinned.

You were freed from your restrains in mere seconds. You saw all your friends gathered around you. They were smiling awkwardly, wishing you happy birthday in unison. You noticed the ridiculous amount of balloons behind them and a pinata that really did look like Vox.

"You guys really went out of your ways to make this happen huh?" You couldn't deny it, it was impressive. Knowing the hazbins and their quirks, you were surprised that they had been able to put up everything so nicely.

"We just thought you should have a proper birthday, my dear", Alastor chuckled.

"You guys really won't give up huh. Thank you", you giggled. "Alright, you win. Let's party."

"Okay, so first, we got some presents!" Charlie motioned towards the pile of presents in the living room.

You kept opening the gifts, your heart fluttering as they had gifted things you had actually asked for. Then came Angel's turn.

"Happy birthday toots", Angel wished, smirking widely.

"Angel, this present is clearly the shape of a dildo", you state.

"Hey! Don't ruin the surprise!" Angel pouted. "It's not just any dildo, it has 13 different vibrating modes-"

You ripped the wrapping, revealing a huge dildo. You read the text on the package: "Hellpounder 3000, size XL." Your eyes widened as it started vibrating violently. "Angel for the love of Satan!"

Charlie coughed awkwardly while Alastor's aura got exponentially darker.

"Pretty sweet huh?" Angel winked an eye. "I promise you, it gives multiples, every time-"

"Alright!" you blush. "Thank you Angel, I can tell you really care about my, uh, well being", you wrap the dildo back in the paper.

Surprise guest

"We have one final surprise for you!" Charlie's smile widened, if that was even possible by now. "We have someone very special who's come all the way from heaven!"

A familiar serpent figure stepped from the shadows.

"Oh my Hell... Do my eyes deceive me?" You stepped closer. "Sir Pentious! It really is you!" You jumped to hug your old friend. "Look at you all dressed up in white! It does suit you! Ah, it's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too my old friend!" Sir Pentious smiled. "I'm glad they let me visit Hell every now and then!"

"How's Heaven treating you?" you ask curiously.

"It's pretty nice, though sometimes I find myself missing Hell, especially you people", Sir Pentious responded with a longing expression.

"You're the best birthday present ever!" you hum happily, giving him one more hug.

"I resent that", Angel crossed his arms.

"Come on Sir Pentious! Let's cut the cake!" you lead the snake to the kitchen followed by the others.

Cutting the cake

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, dirty sinner, happy birthday to you", they sangs happily as you laughed softly, cutting the ridiculously large cake.

"This is my favorite cake guys!" you exclaim.

"I know my cake", Angel smirked. "Yeah, you like eating cake don't you-"

"Ahem", Alastor furrowed his brows.

Even Lucifer had joined them through a video call.

"Happy birthday kid!" Lucifer smiled through the screen. "I'm sorry I couldn't join today..."

"It's okay Lulu, how's the recovery?" you ask while the others cut the cake.

"Well, the hemorrhoid surgery was a success, but this recovery bullshit sure is painful. Like, everything I do reminds me of my ass. Trying to walk, sitting down, taking a dump-"

"That's cool, just keep talking about your ass while we eat cake", Husk muttered.

"I see it as very fitting", Angel chuckled. "You know, eating cake and talking about ass-"

"AHEM", Alastor raised his voice again.

"Damn, no Hellpounder 3000 for Lucifer anytime soon", Angel mumbled while moving to the side to grab some drinks.

"Well, I see you have your hemorrhoid pillow", you giggle. "It's gonna be fine, Lulu. Maybe next week Charlie can pick you up and bring you here to spend time with us!"

"Oh that would be just lovely. I'd be so pleased to get a visit from out hemorrhoid-ridden king", Alastor said, his cheery voice dripping with sarcasm.

You smiled at Lucifer and Alastor started bickering on the phone. You walk over to Vaggie. "Vaggie, I know none of this party would've succeeded if it wasn't for you. You truly are the backbone of this hotel and our little group of misfits. Thank you", you hug the fallen angel.

"T-thank you", Vaggie smiled shyly, feeling good that her effort was recognized. "That means a lot."

...

The party was going well. Everyone found their ways to keep themselves entertained. Vaggie and Charlie were eating snacks and talking with Lucifer on the phone, Alastor was enjoying a whiskey at Husk's bar. Nifty ran around the hotel with balloons, her manic laughter echoing in the hallways.

Even Fat Nuggets, Angel's adorable pet piglet had joined then. The pink piglet sniffed on the empty plates. Noticing the piglet's hunger, Charlie cut a piece of cake and placed the plate on the floor. "There you go, piggy."

You sat on the sofa with Angel as Alastor passionately beat up the Vox-shaped pinata.

"Oh my, he's really beating the shit out of that pinata", Angel raised an eyebrow.

"Even blindfolded, he manages to hit the right spots", you take a sip of your drink.

"That sounded hot", Angel said casually as you choked on your drink.

"Angel for fuck's sake!" you curse.

Alastor hit the pinata one final time before the candy fell out. Nifty was blissfully jumping around, catching the candy.

"Oh, aren't those two cute?"

You and Angel watch Alastor and Nifty interact. There was almost something daughter and father -like about the way the two interacted.

You noticed Sir Pentious in the opposite corner of the room, trying to flirt with Cherry Bomb.

Sir Pentious: So, if you were in Heaven... Would you open your heavenly gates for me?

You giggled with Angel at Sir Pentious' adorable attempts to flirt.

"Well, I must say this party turned out well. I feel like we've all been busy with the Hotel lately, so much so that we haven't gotten together like this for a while", you speak lazily.

"Yeah toots, your birthday was the perfect excuse to spend some quality time or whatever shit", Angel mumbled back, clearly intoxicated from the alcohol. "And I mean, look, we got Sir Pentious to visit too..."

"Man we are getting sentimental as fuck", you mumble, watching your friends enjoy the party. "It's like... We are having a deep conversation."

"So deep", Angel nodded with a suggestive tone. "You know toots, you should really give that Hellpounder 3000 a chance."

"Alright, I will", you rolled your eyes. "Man, this has been one of the best birthdays I've ever had."

Extra

It had been two weeks since your birthday. Charlie had decided to throw a casual family dinner at the Hotel, mainly because Lucifer seemed lonely. After all, Lucifer had been unable to join your birthday, which had left his pride wounded.

You were setting the table with Angel and Nifty as you saw Lucifer's car driven by Charlie enter the Hotel's front.

You walked closer to the window with Angel and watched the father and daughter struggle.

Charlie, trying to Help Lucifer out of the car: Dad, just take my hand!

Lucifer: It hurts too much! I can't do this...

Charlie: Come on dad, we made your favorite food! Here, let me carry your apple cane-

Lucifer, holding his butt: Charlie! CHARLIE! I think I popped the stitches! My hemorrhoids never leave me!

Charlie: Dad come on, walk along with me-

Lucifer with genuine panic in his voice: No! NO! We forgot my hemorrhoid pillow! I can't go anywhere without it! Please we have to get it-

Charlie: Okay, relax dad! I got the pillow, see? Now let's go!

Angel turned to look at you. "Well, this will be an interesting dinner."

"Poor Lulu tho", you chuckle as you glance through the window, seeing Lucifer being carried by his daughter. "We love our short king."

[jajanvm-imbi]

You know there's actually something I really appreciate with how Lucifer is depicted in Hazbin.

Everyone thought he was gonna be this intimidating king who crushes Charlie's dreams. We all thought he was gonna be a sadistic rebel or something.

Instead, Lucifer is just a brokenhearted dreamer who's heart is too big for his own good. Just like Charlie

He wasnt a "rebel", he wasn't "evil", he didn't want to harm anyone. He just wanted to share the beauty of being truly alive with mankind, and he was cast out. He was cast away because the angels feared what they couldn't understand.

When Charlie tried explaining to her father her dream, he said everything he could to discourage her not because he didn't believe in her but he really just wanted to protect her from the soul crushing rejection he experienced. He was afraid for her

And there's something so painfully realistic about that fear.

As someone who's grown up in the church, and who's parents eventually became the pastors of the church they grew up in, I cannot tell you how terrifying the idea of being rejected by those you love is.

All of the most important people in my life are at this church. They paid for my Sweet 16. They were there when my grandparents died and my parents had to go on emergency trips to Costa Rica. They were there when our house got flooded and my family was homeless for 3 months. They threw my parents their 50th birthday parties. They went to my brothers highschool graduation. They went to mine. I'm grateful they're in my life.

But being the type of person I am, someone who isn't afraid of interacting and being friends with those the church deems as "dirty sinners", someone who would charge headfirst into spaces most "good Christians" would be too afraid of touching with a stick, I'm terrified of what I think is the inevitable future.

I've always know I wasn't meant for ministry like everyone expects I should be. I'm not meant to work in exclusively "Christian" spaces, and I have no desire to. My parents keep trying to tell me to use my career for Christian specific projects and I know that's not my purpose in life. They would never say it but I can see it on their faces that they fear I'm gonna "stray from the path of God" for pursing the career I've dreamed of since I was a kid.

How do I begin to explain to them that this is God's path for me? I know it is with all my heart. One day I'm gonna move out and fulfill my purpose in life and ultimately be rejected by the people who I consider my family?

I know there will be people in my life who will never understand who I'm meant to be, and my heart breaks thinking about it because I don't want them to be afraid of me. I haven't "changed", I'm just finally who I was always meant to become. I know there are gonna be people who think I've sold myself to "the world" or something, how do I make them understand?

Luficer says: "Heaven never listens. They didnt listen to me..." and my heart clenches

Charlie says he cant know that and Luficer says with tears in eyes: "I DO" and my own eyes fill with tears

Lucifer sings: "My dreams were too hard to defend" and I feel that deep in my own soul.

Some of us were meant to be rejected for what we're meant to do, and rejection is the biggest fear of every kid who's grown up in the church.

Hazbin isn't perfect, I will never claim it is, but GOD is this depiction of Lucifer something special. What other character can perfectly show what kids who grew up in the church feel?

[an-idyllic-novelist]

stolas goetia with gender neutral!sinner!reader scenario

warnings: spoilers for s2, angst, slight Stoliz, one-sided love, and possibly OOC for some of the characters.

The Goetian prince met you through Bltizy’s little assassination agency. You were an employee, specializing in reconnaissance within the human world and possessing knowledge of the mortal plane, amongst other jobs that required a more….delicate touch. Is that why you were good with knives and acrobatics? Probably. Either way, you were pleasant enough for a sinner and an easy conversationalist, much more so than his dear little imp. 

In all honesty, he did not pay much attention to you until after…the incident with Striker. It had been a close call, and he had almost died if Blitzø nor you hadn’t come to his rescue. He did check his phone for messages, and only got one text from the imp. After that…nothing. He never heard from him for the rest of the day. At least he thought he thought it was for the rest of the day. The drugs that were pumped into his body made Solas drowsy. When he woke up, there was someone in the chair.

But it wasn’t Blitzø. It was you. And still dressed in those dirty, bloodstained clothes you had worn the last time he saw you before he blacked out. As soon he moved in the bed, trying to readjust himself, you immediately bolted up from your seat, bleary-eyed yet you still had the energy to help him get comfortable before setting back down.

“Welcome back.” You said in a monotone voice, releasing a low groan. He winced slightly at hearing the bones in your neck being popped back into place as you moved your head from left to right.

“How do you feel? You need me to get the nurse? Bitch hasn’t been around since the shift change…’bout three hours ago? Christ on a stick it’s hard to keep track of time. Oh yeah, before I forget,” You stood from the chair again, rummaging in your pockets before pulling out a slip of paper, holding it out to him. “Your daughter called my cell. Dunno how she got it, maybe Loona gave it to her,  but she sounded pretty damned scared. Can’t blame the poor girl.” You narrowed your eyes, mouth curling into a contemplative frown. “It’s weird that she didn’t call you first. Maybe….she was worried your…spouse would change her mind and have Striker finish the job.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and very confused at your attentiveness. “Why?” He whispered.

“Hm?”

“Why….are you here?” He asked. “Blitzy couldn’t make time to see me, so he sent you instead.” He felt tears building up in the back of the eyes, much to his embarrassment and frustration. “Why is it that he can send an employee yet he can never face me without making up an excuse that he’s working or it’s too soon to fulfill our arrangement!?” He snapped, feathery chest heaving up and down before he quickly wiped away his face with the back of his hand. 

You said nothing. Instead…you took a few steps toward him and sat on the edge of his bed. “No one sent me to check on you, Your Highness. I am here….because I was worried about you. No strings attached, no last minute requests from the boss. And I am honestly glad you are all right. You’re a Goetia, you’re stronger than tens of thousands of sinners like myself combined. But today was a close call. You could have died….and I should’ve been there sooner. No…Blitzø should have been on top of everything. I know he’s a father too, but Christ I don’t know what goes through that guy’s head sometimes.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “He’s a hot mess. He’s toxic.  He’s got issues….and he’s trying. That means a lot more than you think. But…if you feel like this…arrangement is going nowhere…cut yourself loose before you get too deep that you can’t pull out.” 

Stolas narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” He asked. You didn’t answer him immediately; instead, you stood up from the bed and fluffed up his pillows, placed the piece of paper in his open palm  and strode over to the chair to collected the jacket you used as a blanket, heading towards the door but stopping with your hand hovering over the knob. You looked back at him. 

“I’ve said my piece, Your Highness. Visiting hours will be over soon, but I’ll make sure the nurse stops by here before the lights go out. I wish I could help you more, believe me…it’s just….you’ve got to sort out how you feel about my boss on your own. And seriously, give your daughter a call before she starts blowing up my phone in a panic-induced frenzy.”

You then left, closing the door softly behind you, leaving Stolas to ponder on your words and…his current situation. Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing his Hellphone off the side table and dialing the number. 

What he did not realize at the time is that you did care about him, more than an assassin should care about their employer. All you wanted is Stolas to be happy, even if he might never find happiness with you.

Why else would you be leaning against the door outside of his room for almost ten minutes trying to calm your racing heart before going to find someone to check in on him?

Taglist:

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@thatstonedwriter

@myafterlifeisbetterthenyours

@angelltheninth

@vikkirosko

@nixie-writes

@nunezs-stuff

@mitra555

@lbcreations-blog

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@atttwoood

@crystalrose36

@aurora-rose-miller

[thrashkink-coven]

my autistic special interest in all things theology mythology and archeology has lead me to baffle so many christians and it’s actually so hilarious

someone: DID YOU KNOW JESUS LOVES YOU???! THERES SO MUCH SCIENTIFIC PROOF OF GOD!!! YOU SHOULD BELIEVE IN HIM

Me: oh word? That’s so cool

someone: YES THERES ARCHEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE THAT THE FLOOD ACTUALLY HAPPENED AND THEY FOUND PIECES OF NOAHS BOAT!!! CHRIST IS KING!!!

me: damn that’s super interesting Id love to learn more

someone: … 😐?? JESUS IS THE WAY AND THE TRUTH

me: that’s a really interesting philosophy to live by I think that’s pretty neat and opens up a lot of room for some great discussions

someone: … aren’t you??? a devil worshipper? you’re a dirty pagan sinner and you’re going to hell

me: oh… ok cool but tell me more about the archeological evidence I love archeological evidence