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immortaljai · 4 months ago

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Good Talk.

1.5k Words, Smut, dirty talk, 3some, asshole behavior, porn w plot.

It was a weird family but it was your family. The amount of times the X-men tried to recruit you was sickening, Wade always in your ear about unicorns and his “Golden babys” all that you were used to. You never expected Wade to come home after his disappearance let alone with someone who seems to hate everyone. Logan was snarky, a drunk, and overall an asshole from the moment you met him.

He had this “lone wolf” batman shit going on with him, it confused you seeing Wade and him interact let along him living with you guys. You tried to avoid him as best as you could getting cursed at less then Wade but it irritated you how he hated you when you did nothing primarily to Logan other than have your tomfoolery jokes with Wade.

You really should have noticed the heated gazes, the close proximity and the borderline degrading words, Logan wanted nothing to do with you for a reason. With Wade it was different he was always..touchy always close especially when he was hurt one smaller cut off healing arm waving at Logan and one hand on your waist a bit close to your bottom as you faced him cleaning the blood off his face. If only you looked behind you to see the irritated flustered mess Logan was, truly explains why Wade laughed louder.

You’re a clueless thing indeed, how could you not have noticed Logans brushing up against you as you argue about how onions should be cut “You know what fork hands maybe if you pulled weight around here and cooked your own fucking meals you wouldnt have so much to complain about” the chopping board making loud noises as you slides irritatedly Wade was long gone getting the “Powdered donuts” for Blind Al so he really had no idea what was going down Al decided long before to leave the apartment.

“You have knifes for hands use them” you snarkily said with an eyeroll “You got a fuckin’ smart mouth you better watch it” he growled in your ear still hovering, he snatched the knife out of your hand standing behind you cutting the onions himself “Ya’ see? Maybe if you didnt run your fuckin’ mouth so much you’d learn something” that made your anger flare quickly exhaling through your nose “Maybe if you didnt fuck up what you had, you wouldnt be here and id be asshole babysitting free” the kitchen went silent as the slicing ceased you could hear him breathing lightly behind you. The knife clatted on the cutting board as he leaned down his nose touching your shoulder, his breathing on your lower back “Ya wanna repeat that?”

You nearly shat yourself as you stuttered out or tried to stutter out an apology, however that was cut short due to Wade coming through the door “MARVEL JESUS IS BACK” you never thought you'd be so happy to hear that name quickly and swiftly moving from Logans trapped arms and running to the door “Heeeey red” you said side smile on your face as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding “Hi sweet face, where is Whiskey dick” a grunt came from behind you knowing it was logan you paid no mind to him, as Wades eyes widen “Theses my muscle man oh you look angry i think my bone is rising” you rolled your eyes a smirk on your face as you turned to look at logan “M’ not pissed, not in the slightest” he said gruffly a beer in his hands leaning on the doorway his heated gaze on you.

Wade's eyes widened as he raised his non-existent eyebrows “Ohhh what happened while i was gone- clothes are still on” that made you scoff lightly folding your arms as you walked away from the kitchen “Dinners nearly ready” Logan said staring at Wade as you disappeared. Wade smirked walking up to Logan quite closely “So..what happened between you and sweet cheeks” Logan looked at Wade with slight uninterest “She’s got a mouth” “That can be used properly” Wade replied quickly with a smirk “Your disgusting” Logan said pinching his nose “And yet here you are a boner cause of an attitude- you pervert”

Dinner was as usual loud, friends over as if it was a celebration, Logan in the corner watching keeping a close eye on his self proclaimed daughter a drink in hand as usual, he manspread slightly catching your gaze landing on his lap before away again, his eyes however were already on you, maybe it was the buzz, maybe it was his hormones but you looked..nice..better then nice even. Throughout the night he moved closer to you, from the chair, then next to Laura, then in the end you were in the middle of him and Wade.

Wade's arm around your waist from the moment he closed in, his eyes moving from the cleavage your shirt gave as he talked to you, his eyes taking in you completely licking his lower lip, he noticed Logan moving in and he smirked to himself. “Go get my board game for me sweet cheeks” Wade whispered to you winking to Logan, he gave Wade a blank face before taking a long swig of his drink.

You entered his room, it was cluttered as you huffed looking through his things, tossing things behind you “Where the fu-'' your sentence was cut short as you were pushed and pinned agaist the bed a heavyweight pushed against your back before a hand came to cover your mouth “Smart mouth..” Logan whispered in your ear you blushed deeply at the bulge pressed against you and the husky voice behind you “M’ gonna need you to listen to me, there's about 6 people in the house..i'm gonna need you to be quiet” you didn't need to be told twice nodding your head slowly.

That was all he needed his hands moving up your pants pulling them down slightly his fingers reading you through your underwear “L-at that, soaked been thinking bout this?” you were pre occupied your face pressed into the sheets whimpers coming from you, that made him chuckle his pants swiftly being pulled down as his tip nudged between your core and your underwear making him sigh deeply before pulling back your slick being pulled with each drag of his hips “This- jus’ gonna have to do for now” he said fucking your thighs, his hand moving to grab your throat to lift your head, the door opened making your eyes widen as you looked back seeing Wade.

“Fuckin knew it- you guys left me out” he frowned as he started removing his pants quickly “Dumbass- you gave me the hint” Logan groaned into your ear his pace not slowing, his tip brushing your clit perfectly with each drag of his hips, your ass jiggling each time. Wade smirked as he sat in front of you his legs opening “Hi sweet cheeks- im sorry to ask this..given your state but-” he grabbed your hair using your open mouth as a fleshlight as he sighed in content “Yeah..thats better” Wade was bigger then any male you sucked off and it didnt help thst Logan wasnt letting up, you quickly found a rhythm from sucking Wade using your hand to stroke what couldnt fit sucking his tip harshly making his eyes roll back “F-fuck yea- like a lolipop sweet face” his head thrown back as he softly rocked his hips in your mouth, Logan hand reaching up to grab his balls “There you go smart mouth, make the idiot cum” he said whispering in your ear speeding up his precum coating your cunt. Your eyes rolling back as you tried your best to deep throat Wade while stroking his cock “Ohh-Ohhh yea im about to paint the entire room white like marble-” Wades eyes squeezed shut as he held your head down moving it once, twice, three times before blowing his load down your throat and falling back his chest heaving as you swallowed it all licking his tip clean.

Behind you, you heard a snicker as your face was pushed down into the pillow and a dick was inserted into you Logans pace started off uncaring as he used you as if you were a doll slamming you up and down as his hand rapidly rubbed at your bud “Yea- I don't see you talking now do I?” he chuckled at your muffled moans crudely his chest making contact with your back as he groaned “Fuck..cmon cum doll, cum for your asshole” he whispered in your ear making your mouth fall open as you screamed in the pillow your vision going white as you painted his cock white, triggering his own orgasm as he stuffed you full thrusting a few more times before pulling out pulling your underwear up making sure it all stayed in. Wade’s eyes crinkled into a smile seeing your fucked out face “We gotta get up doll- they gonna start speculating” however you could barely hear let along talk so you nodded dumbly

That made them chuckle lightly as they stood up Logan stuffing his cock into his pants as Wade put back on his pants “Guess we tell them she fell asleep?” Wade asked “I don’t give a shit” Logan said walking out with a smirk leaving you in your slutted out state

“Good night sweet cheeks”

Still feral thanks for cumming.

#deadpool x reader #deadpool x wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x deadpool #xmen x reader #marvel x reader #wade wilson x reader

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melzula · 8 months ago

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hii i was wondering could you write a oneshot of how zuko's self cautious of his scar and reader just kisses his scar and reassures him and tells him that hes perfect and that she loves everything abt him. This is in a very like intimate and loving way ykyk

a/n: ah this plot is so sweet! had to rewrite this piece a few times before landing on something i liked so i hope you enjoy!

summary: zuko asks you to remove his bandages

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I can fetch Iroh instead.”

“No,” comes Zuko’s soft reply, his sullen features bathed in candle light. “I want it to be you.”

Sighing softly, you give him an understanding nod and press a careful kiss to his check. The Prince remains stoic in spite of your show of affection, simply signaling for you to proceed.

It’s been a week since the Agni Kai, and the healer has given Zuko the okay to remove his bandages. The wound should be healed by now, nothing but a painless scar with a painful memory attached to it. It’s not only your first time seeing Zuko’s new face but his as well, and neither of you are sure what to expect.

You were honestly surprised when the Prince had asked for you to be the one to remove his bandages. He’d been cold and standoffish with you since your departure from the Fire Nation, something you couldn’t blame him for considering all he’d been through, but you didn’t expect him to trust you with something so important so soon. It made you nervous, but it also made you relieved to know he still felt he could trust you with such things.

Your fingers work carefully as you unravel the white cloth around his head, doing your best not to cause too much discomfort for your Prince. He says nothing as you move and only watches you through the reflection of the mirror before him.

“Are you ready?” You ask him softly, hesitating as you reach the final layer of wrapping.

“Hesitation is a sign of weakness,” Zuko replies gruffly, and that’s all you need to hear before finally pulling away the last of the bandages.

The room is silent and tense as Zuko stares at his own reflection. The skin around his eye is angry and red, permanently damaged and forever serving as a reminder of his failure. He can hardly see out of his left eye, but he’s still able to make out your figure watching on silently as he assesses the damage.

“Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what, Zuko?” You murmur softly, carefully resting a hand upon his back.

“Say you’re disgusted by me. Say you’re repulsed,” he snarls bitterly. “Say that you’re too embarrassed to be seen with such a failure!”

“Is that really what you think?” You utter sadly, a pained smile on your lips as you carefully reach out to touch his face. His hand immediately flies up to catch your wrist in a firm grip before you can get any closer, and despite the discomfort it brings you make no attempt to move.

“It’s what I know.”

“Then you must not know me at all,” you counter with a small shake of your head.

Reality sets in and Zuko guiltily removes his ironclad grip on your wrist. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but there’s an amalgamation of emotions festering within him at the sight of his deformity. He was a Prince, he wasn’t meant to look like this, he wasn’t meant to be out at sea fruitlessly trying to find the Avatar so he could end his banishment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“You’re perfect, Zuko,” you console with a careful brush of your fingertips against the freshly healed skin. His eyes flutter shut at the comforting sensation, and you take it as a sign to continue. “I love you the way you are, and this scar doesn’t change that.”

He can’t help but gasp when he feels the softness of your lips pressing against his temple. How could you not feel sickened by him? How could you still love him after everything?

“Your scar is nothing but a sign of your strength, I hope you know that,” you tell him before pressing another kiss to his cheek just below his eye.

He says nothing in response, but you know that he understands you. With you, he doesn’t have to feel shame or guilt. Your love for him knows no bounds, and there’s nothing he could do that would ever make you turn away from him.

He sits in silence as you begin to apply a soothing balm to his skin. His eyes close in contentment and for the first time since leaving home he finally feels at peace.

He knows then that he made the right choice in having you be the one to remove his bandages. No one sees him like you do, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

#melzula writes #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender #request

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konigsblog · 9 months ago

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i'm so tired wtf (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

thots™️ about best friend-könig taking what he wants so badly...

cw: somnophillia, non-con.

thinking about perverted könig who relaxes his beloved best friend, watching you begin to doze off in his arms as you relax further into his burly chest, sprawled out across his big lap whilst he runs his blunt fingernails up and down your bare, soft thighs soothingly. your snores quickly become audible, yet silent and interrupted by the sounds of your breathless, choked moans and whimpers, nuzzling against his chest whilst he slides his calloused fingers into your cotton panties.

watching the fabric dampen, become wetter the more he pumps his digits into your slicken hole. your sleeping body shakes and twitches in his strong arms, eyes closed tightly and your lips parted as whines and mewls flow from your soft lips. könig adores the sight of you like this; wet and sticky, coating his fingers in your sweet juices, your thighs trembling.

you poor thing, you're mortified when you wake up to your best friend acting on his depraved fantasies, eyes wide and glistening, flickering between his silver eyes and his wide fingers stuffed deep into your swollen folds. a cruel smile curls the sides of his mouth as he rubs your clit, watching you grind down against him desperately, yet utterly humiliated as you weren't expecting to be awoken to something so vulgar and perverse...

your attempts at protesting and pushing his large hands away are fruitless - he takes what he wants, and that's to feel the inside of your gummy cunt, to feel what he'll be fucking soon. your poor face, looking bashful and ashamed as you come down from your sudden and unexpected orgasm, slick and transparent droplets of your arousal running down his hands, your hips bucking and jerking as he pulls them away, light-headed and confused, unable to string a coherent sentence together as he cooes at you teasingly.

your body longs for his sickening touch, whilst you lower your head in shame as you gaze down at the sight of yourself; swollen cunny, wet and warm, covered in sticky fluids that only leave you disgusted with yourself.

#orla speaks #somnophillia #tw: noncon #könig x you #könig x reader #könig x y/n #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig headcanons #konig mw2

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yandere-sins · 2 months ago

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Love so toxic, it burns.

In where Diluc (my beloved) realizes he cannot endure one more day apart from you.

[Continuation of this]

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairings: Yandere!Diluc x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con turning into Dub-Con, Nipple teasing, Fondling, Bareback Sex, Creampie, Being dominated, Light dirty talk), Forced Relationship, Obsessive Love, Kidnapping, Long Post Prompt: @sintember I love you - I do I do I do I do I do.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Your back hit the mattress, the most luxurious softness money could buy enveloping you while the grip of the most deranged, unstable mind you knew around your wrists tightened, drawing you back to reality. It felt like a fever dream, a nightmare. Finding your captor, the bane of your existence, in your room—your closet of all places—was bad enough. Cock strutting from his loosely opened pants, squirting hot semen all over your freshly washed body, was nothing short of the most horrifying experience you could have ever imagined.

And it didn't stop there.

Awfully aware of the bareness of your skin, shame in the form of heat pooled inside your head, making you burn from the inside out. You'd underestimated Diluc, thought him to be prim and proper, when really, you should have realized a long time ago what kind of beast he was. A force to be reckoned with, an animal waiting to pounce. All this time, you deemed him mad but harmless. You, on the other hand, had always been vulnerable, helpless, and exposed to his desires. You had chosen to be ignorant.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

"Let me go!" you demanded, and although ashamed, you looked Diluc straight into his eyes. There wasn't much besides a fiery glow, the red resembling rubies, smothered in flames and fueled by a sickening affection. Even when you strained your wrists in his grasp, his fingers tightening every time you freed an inch from his hold, he didn't seem to hear you, perhaps ignoring you deliberately.

You watched him swallow hard, the most recognition you had received until now, yet he didn't move. Didn't say a word. His tongue appeared between his lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you, so you reflexively turned your head away. But instead, his head lowered to your chest, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth.

Jolting, you arched your back, your body pressing upwards. Your breast molded against Diluc's face, and he moaned into it, your whole ribcage shuddering from the sound. He slipped one hand off your wrists and captured the mound from below, sucking on your nipple with even better access. And you hit back, your now free palm slamming into his shoulder repeatedly, trying to pry him off.

When his teeth found hold, you stilled in shock, gasping.

The slamming of your hand turned into nails digging into Diluc's exposed neck, clawing red marks into his skin to the point it broke. Diluc moaned, using his tongue to tease you. You hated it, you hated every one of his caresses. So why. Why, when he let go of your other hand, too, driving his own down your body, over your stomach, your hips, and between your legs, did he find wetness stuck to your skin? Allowing him to easily slip through your folds, pry at your clit that throbbed impatiently?

Had it been so long since you've been touched with something other than the dutiful skill of the personnel that dwelled in this house, that your body craved the intimacy? Did you perhaps find yourself fond of the teasing and the desire of your captor? You had avoided him so much, ignored and scorned him; you didn't even remember parts of his features, but new ones were burned into your mind now. Like the awkwardness of his tongue as it tried to taste and play with your breast at the same time, greedily lapping, or the slight shiver from his hand between your legs as it found purchase where you didn't want it.

Diluc tried to push past your entrance, and you bit your lip in a mix of disgust and desire, hard enough to taste iron on your tongue. But he hesitated, retreating and allowing you to snap your legs shut, the spreading wetness only mildly reminding you of your failure to protect yourself from him.

Tearing away from your breast, you watched as he stretched his back, standing tall before you and staring at your juices coating most of his hand. Said hand tentatively raised to his face, and with a shuddering breath, he seemed to lose all composure, licking square over his palm like a thirsty dog. You watched in horrifying awe as he groaned, head falling to the side, a distant look on his face as he cast his gaze downwards.

Yours followed, unable to look away.

Spreading his hand wide open, you saw the strings of juices and drool netting in the gaps between his fingers, yet he enveloped his cock in it without hesitation, mixing your juices on top of the bopping, eager monstrosity impatiently waiting for its turn. It seemed like a rough jerk as he pumped his hand up and down, but you soon heard the squelching of wet skin, involuntarily making you clasp your legs together even tighter, your core filling with warmth.

You had to get away.

Fear filled you, unfiltered, pure panic rising. There was a slowly rising sense of desire clawing its way out of the depths you put it in, but no matter how much you pushed back, it grew bigger and stronger with every stroke of Diluc's hand on his cock. Adrenaline flooded your blood, and you could feel every muscle tense to the point of almost snapping apart. You had to do something—kick, punch, scream! Anything to make him stop.

Diluc had said nothing and didn't make his intention clear verbally. But as you watched him vigorously stroke his cock while looking at the triangle formed by your pussy and legs, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Your body was already maltreated, bitten, licked, and touched in ways you didn't want to be. Diluc had already made you miserable with his passion, flooded your senses with jolts of joy that weren't his to induce. You owed this man nothing. He was a pitiful piece of shit. He didn't deserve to see or give you pleasure—much less join you in it. And you couldn't continue to let him treat you this way.

Treat you as if you belonged to him.

But instead of kicking, only your eyes widened as he sunk to his knees, cock still tightly gripped in his hand, and for the first time since this assault started, he looked up at you, saw you. Recognized the fear, anger, and anxiety raging inside of you. But instead of regret and sorrow like usually—the reluctance he showed even though he wanted to be with you—all you saw in his expression was the unwavering determination of a man that was sure of what he was doing. Someone who had made up his mind. The most dangerous beast of them all.

"Open your legs," he demanded, placing a threatening hand on one of your knees. "Show me how wet you are. That you are ready for me."

He'd never spoken to you like this in all the time you've been with him. You'd never heard him order you for his own pleasure—or perhaps he always had, and you simply ignored it. But this time, it made you shiver. Shiver like only someone expecting to have sex would. A pang of betrayal of your own body went through you, forcing a shuddering breath from your lips that was met with a sigh from Diluc's. And then, for just a moment, Diluc broke the mesmerizing spell as he added a miserable, "Please."

Please tell me you're ready. Please let me fuck you. Please end my suffering.

One word, so many meanings, and you wondered why you'd even considered for a moment doing it. To avoid the fight? Get your own needs met? Feel something for a change instead of the daily, monotonous boredom you had long made peace with?

"Why would I?" you returned the question, and you saw his determination falter, the moment ruined as was the mood. Usually, that would be enough to break his spirit, put Diluc back in his place, and remind him of what kind of person he was.

But not this time.

"Because otherwise, I will pry them open, bruise your beautiful skin if I must to get what I want. I will own you tonight. Will make you mine, so every time I come into this room from today onwards, you'll be reminded of what I did to you tonight. So that you'll be wet forever more, desperate to feel me inside again."

He gulped, his own words registering in his mind. "I'll make you love me tonight, so you know what it's like to crave someone to the point it makes you mad. And you will enjoy it, so don't make me repeat it again. Open your legs."

A battle ensued inside of you, a war so ferocious and unkind between your need to stay in control and the want to let go of it. Here was someone devoted, obsessed with you, ready to fulfill your every need despite the horrors he made you endure daily. You could use him, enjoy it, and perhaps gain some will to live afterward if the longing for human touch and love was finally soothed. But could you live with the shame? Remembering his hands, his mouth, his cock? Could your mental health withstand the presence of your captor burned into your mind?

Did it make a difference which one you chose?

You'd be miserable either way. He'd not stop even if you didn't obey. He'd not vanish, whether it meant taking you willingly or unwillingly. His presence would still be burned inside your mind, still eat at your table, still try to make small talk even if you didn't answer him. You'd not be better off just because you kept your dignity. Pride meant nothing in this house where no one recognized you as a free, self-owned person.

You'd long been defeated, you simply didn't want to recognize it.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you slowly unfurled your clasped legs, Diluc's shameless gaze falling to his place of desire. You caught him sniffing the air before he groaned, the pumping of his hand below your line of sight getting even more vicious. You fell back into the mattress, sobbing behind your hand, muffling the sound. Still, the misery that threatened to overtake you was cut down violently by the pleasure your compliance brought.

Diluc surged forward, burying his head between your legs. You felt all of his face nestled against the hot, sensitive skin of your pussy, lips trembling against yours while his breath burned away your own heat. His nose was stuck at the top of your folds, clashing with your clit ever so often as he let his jaw slack, tongue starting roaming from the very bottom to the top, slurping up all the leakage he could reach.

You were torn from your defeat when Diluc's mouth found the pleasure of wrapping around your clit, sucking it in. He didn't need teeth nor tongue to make your fingers grasp for his hair; didn't need support as you arched your back. Yet he grabbed your waist with the devotion of a lover and pleasured you once he found the holy grail of sensitivity between your legs.

By the time your feet curled and breathless moans and shrieks escaped you, those legs were wrapped around his head, his breath now matching the heat from your pussy, and his worshipping forcing an explosion. It was a high you were reluctant to come down from. But thanks to Diluc, the crash wasn't a crash at all. It was a slowly drawn-out symphony that got quieter the longer he directed it until it faded with a pleasant tingle left behind.

Your eyes met as he rose above you, staring down at your undone form. Your chests were heaving with the severity of what had just happened, the chemistry you'd denied so long having served its purpose. Sometimes, you feared, it was true that fucking your enemy was the one unforgivable sin that gave more than it took. There was only one thing left now. One eager, lonely thing.

When Diluc hoisted your legs back over his shoulders, grabbing your midriff to move you further up the bed, you didn't move an inch, didn't help him. What he wanted, he needed to earn. If he wanted to have you so badly, he had to do the work for it. And he did. Never grumbling, never complaining while he left trails of kisses behind as he hovered above you, positioning the tip of his cock to your entrance.

The moment you did move, did struggle was as he pressed forward, burying himself inside of you in a long, dragging motion. You'd just come, your sensitivity tightening everything, and his cock, on the other hand, was an underestimated mass invading you. A feeling of fullness, paired with the moans from both of your mouths, was something you'd never again forget. The way he was bulging you out from inside, the throb as his cock threatened to explode right then and there, and the desperate wrapping of your walls to keep yourself sane and safe from the overstimulation.

It was all etched inside of you now, whether you wanted it.

This would be the only dick you could ever have. A burning hot rod of love. Dragging his hips back caused you to cry out and Diluc to groan, but all sounds vanished as he snapped it back in place, sinking every inch into you. You may have hated this man, but you had been wrong not to believe him when he said he'd make you remember this every time you'd see him.

How could you possibly forget?

"I love you!" he grunted, slamming his shaft back inside. "I love you! I love you!"

With every confession, his pace quickened, words of adoration raining down on you while his cock forged its shape into your pussy. The heat was unbearable, desire stoking flames and sending them straight to your core that buzzed with delight. Your orgasm was so close, but so was his. The man you hated more than anything ever in your life had now burned his place inside you and made sure to keep all his promises.

You were his now, for however long this moment was to last.

He came to own your body and, with the second orgasm, also your mind.

Making you forever remember the feeling of his hot seed spurting inside you as he held you tightly against him, your spasms only driving his cock further inside.

You screamed and rejoiced, laughed and choked on your own sobs at the same time. It was sad. The joy, the pleasure, and the sounds of ecstasy were sad reminders of how Diluc had won. How his disgusting, abusive love had spread like venom through you. He didn't move from you for a long time, but when he did, the feeling of his jizz running down your legs felt like poison—like pure toxin—against your skin.

Toxin that had befuddled your mind by making you crave pleasure—crave the feeling of being loved. Diluc was kissing you over and over, even as his cock slipped out of you while he tried to cover more of your body with his own, pressing you against himself with a sort of desperation. As if he had to feel as much as possible, or else he might regret not getting his fill of you.

But everywhere your skin touched his, it burned. The heat of his body, the tongue working inside your mouth, his cock rubbing over your tender, exposed pussy. You were increasingly convinced he was secreting some kind of toxin, perhaps his pheromones or simply his love for you.

Because you let him.

That night, you let him do as he pleased, kiss what he wanted, fuck you as much as he desired. As if you had lost your mind.

Because just this once, you craved it. Craved his attention, his devotion, the way he allowed you to let go and forget the awful situation you were in just for one night. You had allowed him to show you how to crave him in the same way he longed for you. And although you'd regret it in the morning, you didn't let him leave your bed that night—leave you.

Even though you knew his flames—his love—would burn you alive one day as you stoked the fire again and again.

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murdrdocs · 8 months ago

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she’s driving me crazy

description. STILES STILINSKI finally gets another chance with you, and he won’t take it for granted

includes. SMUT 18+, riding, car sex, fem!reader, protective p n v, lots of making out, loser!stiles, awkward stiles, bi!stiles, exes getting back together, slightly manipulative reader, reader has easily malleable hair, reader wears makeup, drinking (but no drunk intercourse), bickering, scott guest appearance

wc. 6k+

a/n: long awaited stiles fic. bestie boo this one's for u. title from confidence by ocean alley. art credits unknown.

Stiles knows he fucked up.

He had you, after almost a full year of tortuous pining, and he let you slip through his hands. All of it, your relationship with Stiles, really didn’t last more than two months. Two months where date nights were rain checked and eventually canceled. Sleepovers were lackluster, and nothing more than a movie playing in the back while Stiles worked over something that wouldn’t rest in his brain, leaving you alone in the center of his unmade bed. Promises were made, and never kept. It was a mess, a horrible, murky mess of Stiles’ own creation.

He knows this. But he still allows himself to mourn what could have been. He grieves what was. All while nursing a warm beer that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, mostly because of the sight he has been doomed to acknowledge—also his own doing as he could definitely turn his gaze elsewhere.

You’re tucked under the arm of some guy who looks nothing like Stiles, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. Is that your dream guy? Or are you forcing yourself to branch out and try something that wasn’t him? He tries to resist the spiral that sends him on, and is only able to start crawling out of the self-deprecating and insecurity tunnel through Scott’s voice beside him.

“What’re you staring at?”

Scott reeks of alcohol and fruit-flavored syrup. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles knows his best friend would be unable to stand straight by now. But Scott stands like his usual self next to Stiles, a big grin on his face probably from the attention he’s been getting from Kira. (It was sickening for Stiles to watch but he forced himself to be happy for the strong relationship his best friend has.)

Stiles’ immediate instinct is to lie. “Nothing.” He says it a little too fast. He tries to cover his slip up by taking a sip of his beer, but the flavor is unappealing to the point where the face of disgust he presents makes him look more guilty than he really is.

Scott stares at Stiles, waiting. Stiles knows he won’t lie to Scott, not about something this small anyway, and it is only a matter of a few seconds before Stiles sighs.

“Look,” he points at you and your suitor. “Don’t you think he’s making her uncomfortable? Look at that. He’s all over her. Probably reeks of Axe body spray.”

It’s then that the guy cracks another joke, your head throwing back in laughter just before you rest your ear against his chest. It’s so affectionate. As if you’ve known this guy for years, and not just mere minutes.

Stiles flicks his eyes over to Scott, expecting to see his best friend analyzing the situation with at least a small amount of attention that Stiles is. Instead, Scott is looking over at Stiles, wearing what Stiles can only describe as a knowing smirk on his lips.

Stiles steps back, a little bewildered. “What?”

Scott, annoyingly, shrugs. He sips his drink, one he has solely for taste as Stiles knows, and only responds once he’s taken a long, slow swallow.

“She seems fine to me. I thought you guys were broken up anyway.”

“We are!”

“Then why do you care so much?”

Stiles can’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. He turns to face you and your human shaped bag of bricks once again, gesturing for Scott to do the same. His mouth opens, lips parted and tongue ready to spew out the analytics he’d been gathering this entire time in lieu of an excuse.

Then Scott interrupts.

“Do you want me to see what’s going on?” Scott throws a finger up towards his ear, one eyebrow lifted as he waits for Stiles to gather the implications and then make a decision.

It takes Stiles longer to complete the latter than the former.

He waits, thinks, looks at you and the guy. And then remembers the strict ‘no listening’ rule you all have set in place, the one he most definitely won’t betray in the name of jealousy, even if you aren’t particularly aware of all of the intricacies.

When he sighs, it’s defeated and with his entire body. He knows he’s pouting, he assumes he resembles his teenage self—mopey and brooding. He doesn’t mean to speak through gritted teeth, but he ends up doing it anyway.

“No. She’s probably … fine. I guess.” It hurts to admit, deep in Stiles' jealousy-filled gut. Scott’s way of comforting him is by clapping a hand on his shoulder, and telling him that you’re a grown adult who is allowed to make her own decisions, the same as him.

Scott’s intentions aren’t understood until he points at someone in the opposite direction of you. A guy who, from the looks of it, has been eyeing Stiles for a while. He’s Stiles’ type. Exactly his type, actually, and Scott knows this.

“Instead of sulking around …” Scott doesn’t need to finish his sentence in order for Stiles to understand. He only lingers for a few seconds, and then is pulled back towards the larger group by Kira’s eyes and grin.

The guy on the other side of the bar is still watching Stiles. He’s smiling a small but confident smile, like he knows Stiles wants him as much as he wants Stiles. He tilts his head in a beckon, and Stiles is close to letting the guy pull him over there. Until he sees you step away from the man, smile dismissively up to him, and start towards Stiles instead.

Instantly, it’s like a flip has been switched.

He starts to feel the effects of the alcohol, even though he’d been nursing the same bottle the entire night. Still, he chooses to attribute the buzz flowing throughout his body to the overpriced beer and not excitement of finally having your attention.

He watches your path, trying not to feel too disappointed as he takes notice of the way you’re struggling to walk in a straight line.

You fall into his arms in a fit of giggles. Your head resting on his chest, your hands circling around his back.

“Stiles,” you sing, long and drawn out and definitely drunk.

He repeats your name in the same tune, placing his drink onto a tabletop next to him and abandoning it for good. Keeping you away from self destruction is his new main priority.

You slump against him even more, turning yourself around and leaning back against his body. Your position leaves Stiles with nothing else to do other than stand stiffly. He knows that if you were sober, you wouldn’t be nearly as affectionate as you are now. He ignores the way your ass brushes against his crotch. He ignores the smell of your perfume wafting up to him, a scent he had the privilege of seeing you apply a few times before when you were dating. (The image of you getting ready for the day, lathering yourself in the oils and lotions and scents that worked to create your unique scent will never leave his brain, for better or for worse.)

He does his best to remain unaffected, but then you tilt your head up, the crown of your hair rubbing against Stiles’ shirt as you look at him. As soon as he glances down, he sees you pouting, clearly over exaggerated but it’s a look he, pathetically, will never be able to resist.

“Why won’t you touch me?” You manage to sound pitiful, as if you had lost every single thing you hold dear to your heart in the last couple of minutes.

In his response, he tries to remain neutral. Drunk or not, you know the game you’re playing, and Stiles foolishly believes that his knowledge of the ploy makes him insusceptible.

“Because you’re drunk,” he platonically rests his hands on your shoulders and encourages you off of him. “And we aren’t together anymore.”

You turn around to face him, grinning up at him like the cat with the canary as you tell him, “it didn’t stop us last time, right?”

That, and the way you almost throw yourself at some guy walking past, is enough reason for Stiles to link his hand in yours and pull you towards the others. Scott stares down at your interlinked palms for only a moment before Stiles explains his plan, which entails getting you back to your apartment before you do something you could regret.

This isn’t an excuse for Stiles to continue hanging out with you. He makes sure he clarifies that to himself and his best friend before he’s pulling you out of the bar and towards his Jeep.

You’re both less than ten steps away from the entrance to the bar when you suddenly have your lips pressed to Stiles’.

There is a moment where Stiles fails to resist. Where he reciprocates quicker than his brain can realize, acting on pure instinct and muscle memory instead of logic. He is unable to stop himself from getting comfortable, from linking this kiss to the last one he’d received from you. Hotter and messier than this one. (Lost in his appreciation to finally be kissing you again, Stiles fails to notice how you don’t taste like alcohol at all)

Only a few more seconds pass before Stiles reminds himself that you’re drunk, and that this is wrong. When he pulls away from your lips—regretfully, that is—he’s tempted into staying by the slight stickiness of your lipgloss and the almost-disgusting string of saliva that briefly keeps you two sewn together.

You try to lean back in, but Stiles stops you with his hands on your shoulders.

“You’re drunk,” he reminds you.

You’re fixing him with a look, one that feels strong and weirdly sober. His suspicions have more proof to back them up when you say his name with the same matter-of-fact tone he had just used on you.

“I’m not drunk.”

He scrunches his eyebrows together, the muscles in his face mimicking the movement as well. His lips part as he nonverbally exclaims his confusion. He lifts one of his hands from your shoulder to hook his thumb towards the bar entrance. He looks around, for nothing or no one in particular, but as if the night will have an explanation that you would surely be willing to provide if he asks.

He didn’t even need to ask before you provide an explanation. It’s cut and dry, matter-of-fact, spoken like it is the most casual thing in the world.

“I faked being drunk so you could take me home.”

Stiles knows what you mean. He’s not dumb. But he surely does feel it when he says, “If you didn’t feel well you could’ve just told Lydia. She would’ve taken you back to yours.”

You roll your eyes. “If you don’t wanna sleep with me, that’s fine. Just let me know before I waste my time.”

Stiles should stand up for himself. He should reprimand your attitude, and exclaim how unnecessary it was. Instead, he flounders and almost falls to your feet with the speed he clarifies himself.

“No. I do wanna sleep with you. Like, really bad. But … um … well,” you lift your eyebrows and Stiles clears his throat. “How many fingers am I holding up.”

“Jesus, fuck, Stiles.” He continues holding up his first three fingers on his right hand until you answer. “Three.”

You lean in but Stiles takes a step back. And then another. And then another, until he’s standing against the wall of the bar and you’re standing at the edge of the sidewalk.

“Walk in a straight line towards me.”

You don’t seem happy about it, but you place one foot in front of the other over and over again until you’re in front of Stiles. Nothing more has to be said before Stiles places his hands on your hips, pulls you flush to him, and finally allows himself to kiss you.

It’s been a while since Stiles had the privilege of kissing you. The last time, just a month ago, didn’t count in his mind. Sure, he remembered nearly every detail, but your shared inebriated state at the time overruled any legitimacy the encounter could have held. Now, it only acts as a reminder and motivator for Stiles to enjoy every moment of this that he can.

Eventually, it would be smart, and preferable, to leave the outside of the bar and actually take you home where you two could be alone. But for now, Stiles presses his hands into the middle of your back as a way to pull you as close to him as possible. He has his legs spread, creating space for your limbs to stagger. Your hands rest on his shoulders, then at the back of his neck, then in his hair. Both of you are attempting to get as close to the other as possible, all while engaging in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. You both kissed cleaner when you were drunk.

Now, outside this bar with your closest friends inside, and with nothing but the night (and the bouncer) as witness, you submit to the other. There is a level of appreciation in the way your lips slide together. There is a level of gratitude in the presses of your tongues against each other. There is an exorbitant amount of longing that is solved each time you jerk your hips into Stiles and each time he reciprocates.

You thread your hands through Stiles’ hair the same time that he slides his hands down to your ass and squeezes, pulling you as close to him as possible and rubbing his thigh against the center seam of your jeans. You both groan into each other's mouths—Stiles from the way you tug just right on his hair, and you from the feeling of his leg between yours.

Sensing—knowing that he did something right, something good, Stiles does it again. And again. And again. The steady slide of his thigh between your legs does the job. You let your head fall, leaning the top of it against Stiles’ chest just right under his sternum.

The sound of you moaning Stiles’ name goes straight to his dick, with a few remnants traveling to his head, leaving him dizzy and with a steady growing semi. His actions make you grip his hair stronger. His actions indirectly cause pleasure for him, too.

It all disappears when the sound of spitting—loud and boisterous, almost cartoonish—breaks up the moment. Stiles stops his movements. He lays his hands flat on the back pockets of your jeans as he turns his head to the side.

The eyes of the bouncer meet Stiles and Stiles’ ears burn.

While the bouncer doesn’t say anything to him, Stiles knows the message he’s trying to communicate.

Get the fuck out of here.

Stiles is forced to push you back by hooking his fingers in your belt loops. He’s still touching you, at least an extension of you, but then your hands drop to your sides and Stiles can feel his body crying out for you. The same way his body calls out for vital needs—food, water, sleep, entertainment. He squashes his emotions for a second, plasters on a—truthfully sympathetic—face, one that comes off more as a tight lipped smile than anything else.

“Sorry, man. You — uh. You have a goodnight.” He throws a hand up to the bouncer, hoping it is received as friendly. When the bouncer returns the gesture, still with that same look in his eyes, Stiles heads down the street and pulls you with him.

The walk to the car is tortuous. His boner keeps rubbing against his jeans, leaving him to stop every few paces, face away from the street, and try to adjust himself. After the third time, you were voicing your frustration, claiming that it was taking forever to reach the car because of Stiles’ worry about who could see his erection. He tries things your way, ignoring the way his dick calls for his attention and instead focusing all of his attention on you.

The way your hips sway in your tight jeans. The way the wind blows your perfume to him and lifts the edge of your shirt in one, giving Stiles a peek of your skin. It’s such a small look, nothing more than a glimpse, and Stiles feels like a Victorian man the way he’s having to bite his fist at the next crosswalk to avoid groaning. The street lights illuminate your face in just the right ways, highlighting your makeup in an unnaturally ethereal way. Everything about you is driving Stiles crazy. There’s no way he’s going to make it to your house. If he doesn’t get to his car soon, he might pull you into the next bar bathroom that he could find just for a semblance of privacy.

If he could just get to his Jeep.

It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s been walking for far too long. He stops in the center of the sidewalk. You stop right beside him.

Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns around and leads you three blocks down the street, one street over, and then into the parking garage elevator.

The way you’re grinning at him alerts Stiles of the words soon to come out of your mouth, definitely words that would be at his expense. He stops you while you’re ahead.

It’s nice to have the position switched. Your back against the wall instead of his. His hands are still on your hips, but he uses them to push you into the metal instead of pulling you into him. You have that part covered, your arms once more thrown over his shoulders, pressed into the back of his neck and head, drawing him in until the pressure of his lips against yours is a little painful.

In the rush neither of you have pushed the button, leaving the elevator stagnant on the ground floor. Stiles notices at the same time that you scratch his scalp. He moans, he really can’t help it. His mouth opens as you purse your lips again, and he feels a little bad but you aren’t deterred. In fact, you do it again, your nails scratching in just the right spot and Stiles feels like an animal the way he shudders and keens.

He’s more human when he admits, “Missed this.” He presses his lips to yours again, pulling back with a smack. “Missed you.”

Your lips slide against his with what Stiles can only describe as desperation. Pure, unadulterated desperation and desire. You’re breathing a little heavy, deep exhales through your nose and inhales in the in between moments, and it doesn’t turn Stiles off at all. He wants more of you. He takes more of you.

He doesn’t know how long you two are in there, but it is eventually you who pulls back first, your lips visibly swollen and lacking any of the makeup that was previously on it.

“Has the elevator been moving at all?” You could check for yourself. Just one look over Stiles’ shoulder and you could see that the small screen still displayed a digital ‘1’. Yet, you’re looking up at him instead. Like Stiles is the most important thing in the elevator. Like he’s the most important thing in the world to you. (Maybe it’s Stiles’ delusion talking, but he chooses to believe it either way)

Still, Stiles looks over his shoulder, confirms that he hadn’t hit the button at all, and leans back to correct his mistakes.

The elevator beeps twice, bringing you both to the third floor, and as much as Stiles’ wants to continue standing there and just admire you, he can hear the door daring to slide close. Again, he pulls you out behind him.

As soon as he turns the corner, Stiles is immediately made aware of the lack of other cars on the level. It’s a little eerie, and if he wasn’t about to get his dick wet he would possibly be on the lookout for potential threats that could turn one of the best moments of his life into another inconvenience.

Your hands are on his shoulders, his back, his arms, as you hold onto him.

“Why did you park all alone? Did you plan this? Were you trying to get in my pants all night?”

Stiles digs into the front pocket of his jeans and searches for his keys. “No. There were other people parked here earlier. They’re just all gone now.”

You hum unconvincingly. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Stiles.”

As soon as Stiles has the passenger door unlocked, he holds the door open for you and stares, hoping the annoyance is overpowering every other feeling he’s currently having towards you.

“In the back,” he tells you. You smile up at him, big and entertained, and then do as he says.

He climbs in right behind you. At this point in the night, there was no point in attempting to get back to your apartment or his. Stiles couldn’t wait much longer, and you two are no stranger to the back of his Jeep. You’ve been in this situation before.

It’s all completely effortless. You’re already in the process of slipping your jeans off whenever Stiles has the door closed. He mourns for just a second, pouting to himself over not being the one to take those sinful jeans off of you. But then you climb over his lap, situating yourself to hover just a bit above him.

Stiles plants his hands on your hips, just like he did before, and pulls you to sit right over him, just like you have before. He knows that the status of your relationship has changed since the last time he had the privilege of being in this space with you like this, but that doesn’t mean the way you do things has to change, too.

You were never shy before. You would always be quick to attach yourself to Stiles in whatever ways you could, just like you had been doing just a little earlier into the night. But that’s gone now. Now, you’re staring at him, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip.

Before you were together for a short time, Stiles had spent months pining. Months analyzing whatever he could about you. Months mentally cataloging your tells. And now, he calls on that information to declare that you’re hesitant. You’re nervous. No, not just nervous. You’re worried. Almost regretful.

He tilts his head. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug but Stiles knows you’re aware of what has you like this. He just gives you the time to voice it.

Eventually, you say: “Will this change anything between us?”

It’s his turn to shrug. “I dunno. Do you want anything to change?”

You shrug again.

“Well … do you want to keep going? And we decide that afterwards?” Stiles really wants to fuck you, but deep down he knows that if you stopped and got up off of him in this moment, he would be okay with it. Well, he would be okay with it after a few days. Maybe a week or two.

A little part in him swells, jumps, and clicks its heels when you nod.

“Yeah. That sounds good.” You press your lips to his once.

“You just tell me when you decide, okay? I’m cool with whatever you’re cool with.” And Stiles means that. If he gets just one more time with you, if this is his final time with you, he would cut his losses and be grateful for the time that he was allowed. What else was he supposed to do? He would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize his spot in your life.

Stiles can feel the warmth of your center is his hand when he trails his touch down. He cups your mound and his eyes flutter shut. He feels like a pervert for only a second before you start to work your lips down his neck and rock your hips into his hand. The way your mouth suctions around his favorite spot almost has him distracted enough to not notice your hands working on his pants. Almost.

He can’t really tell in the dark, but he can slightly feel your once confident movements start to falter. You stop on his neck, keeping your lips as nothing but a pucker against his skin before you pull away completely to look down between the two of you.

“When the fuck did you start wearing a belt?”

Stiles doesn’t want to tell you the truth, he feels like it would be too embarrassing. Really, he knows it wouldn’t, but something about having to tell you that he decided to wear a belt because you always said he should makes him feel a little meek. So instead of filling the silence with the truth, he fills the silence with the clinks of his belt buckle as he undos it himself.

“Recently,” is all he tells you when you’re still staring at him for a response. Somehow, it’s enough for you and your hands are back on his waistband.

In record speed, your hands are down the elastic of his boxers and wrapping around Stiles’ cock. He doesn’t hiss, but he does shudder. He tries to hide it by pretending that the car is cold, which it was beforehand, but now it’s warm. It becomes warmer when you spit in your hand, wrap it around Stiles’ cock and pump him a few times, and then push your underwear to the side and hover above him.

It really pains Stiles to stop you, but he does. He asks if you have a condom, then he asks if you want to use a condom, and the entire time he’s kicking himself. Because he can feel the warmth radiating. He has his tip already nudged between your folds, and just this small touch is already making him lose it. His nails are digging into your hips, he’s breathing harder than he was before, and he has to blink a few times to really focus on you.

It feels like Stiles blinks and suddenly you’re tearing the foil packet open and slipping the condom over him. He watches it go down as best as he can, and the light doesn’t reveal much. Just the bottom of you and the tip of him is visible, the rest Stiles is forced to make out through squints and memorization.

He’s just briefly dejected about the lack of visuals, but then your hands rest on his shoulders and he hears you take a breath and he knows it’s time.

Stiles rests his hands on your side and looks up at you.

You go down slowly. Softly. It allows Stiles to feel each delicious inch as they go by, revealing more and more of the inside of you as time passes. He battles between watching your face and simply basking in it. Eventually, he settles on the former.

Your eyebrows are tightened just enough to show your discomfort. You have your lips parted, long breaths leaving them every so often, usually right before you sink down again. And Stiles has seen you take him before. He knows that you have been able to take him faster than this before. And then he wonders: is this your first time doing this, with anyone, in a while? Have you been as lost without him as he has been without you? Have you even attempted to fill that hole, and was your stunt earlier tonight just that: a stunt?

There isn’t time for him to ponder over his questions like he would have wanted to whenever you bottom out. It’s with a sigh, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his just briefly.

You rest your forehead against his, and you both breathe together. Or, it’s more so you breathing and Stiles matching the pattern.

You lean up, you move your hair out of your face, and you tell him, “Don’t remember it being this hard.”

Slightly cocky, Stiles tilts his head. At first he doesn’t say anything. He smiles, his eyes are heavy when they look you up and down, and then he rubs your back. “Take your time.”

You take the time you need and then you start moving. Up and down. Up and down. Agonizingly slowly at first, and then faster when you get more comfortable.

This is what Stiles has needed. This is what he has been missing in his life. You’re like a drug for him, and one hit seems like enough at the time, but by the time this is all over he knows he’s going to be searching for more. He’ll do anything he has to, so long as it gets him in a spot similar to this again.

He searches for your hand, refusing to look away from the way your body moves atop of him for even a second. You help him out, bringing your hand to his, pressing the fingertips together, leaving Stiles to interlock them. He lifts your hands, looking at them in the white light that enters the foggy window. Somehow, this image is even more captivating. There is a more pornographic way the two of you are connected, one that demands Stiles’ attention. There is something about the innocence of this. He’s doing nothing but holding your hand, and Stiles feels like he might either lose his mind, or cum too quickly.

He might do both. One after the other.

You sink down on him again, a little awkwardly this time, but it does it for you. You hit a spot that makes your mouth widen and your eyes flutter shut. You search for it, and find it miraculously. Your head throws back as you hit that spot over and over again, pleasing yourself on Stiles’ dick. The image is heavenly for him. It’s euphoric.

He lets his eyes wander down your neck, along your clavicle, and your shirt reveals just a bit of your bust but it’s not enough. With his free hand, he pulls the rest of the fabric down, and when he sees that you’re not wearing a bra, he almost cums into the condom then and there. He doesn’t wonder how he hadn’t noticed, he doesn't consider how he hadn’t taken into account the natural shape of your breasts pushing through the fabric, almost reaching out to him. Instead, he leans forward, presses his hand into the curve of your back, and attaches his mouth to the untouched skin.

Your free hand sinks into Stiles’ hair. Your fingers weave through the back of his hair first, and then you make your way up to the front, pushing back his bangs blindly.

Stiles peers up at you from his spot around your nipples. You’re still in ecstasy—your head now level once more, but your mouth still open and your eyes still closed.

He detaches from your nipple to tell you: “Look at me.”

It fuels Stiles’ ego when you do as told quickly.

You’re looking at him on his command yet Stiles feels like he’s the one entranced. Because of your eyes. Fuck, your eyes. Watery, lazy, but your pupils are dilated. Your mascara has transferred to under your eyes by now, and it’s smudged a bit, making you look completely fucked out. Stiles thinks some of your makeup along your face has disappeared too, but it allows for a fresh skinned appearance instead.

Really, there is nothing else for him to do except kiss you. It’s so messy but so good. You flatter in your movements on his cock, but Stiles feels absolutely no remorse when he takes over.

He unlocks your hands and plants them both on your hips again. This time, he uses the leverage to pull you down on him again and again. He lets you lead the kiss, while he leads this.

Your hands land on the leather of the seat behind Stiles' back and the foggy glass pane of the window. He hears your fingertips glide down the surface as he starts to fuck you harder, and then the sound is combined with your moans when your lips separate from Stiles’.

You call his name, low and breathy.

He hums.

“‘m so close. Keep going. Just like that.” He nods. Then you add, “Little faster.” And he does as told.

Your forehead pressed against his, the sweat on both of your skin making your heads glide more than anticipated. It doesn’t deter either of you. When your nose bumps against Stiles’, he kisses you again. When your head becomes too heavy for you to hold it up, he presses his thumb under your jaw, rests his fingers on the side of your neck, and holds the weight for you.

“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, adding your name at the end to seal the deal. “Baby,” he says, and his heart swells when you hum in response. So he says it again. “Baby, you feel so good. Feel so good, babe.”

He doesn’t know what more he says. He can vaguely recognize his lips forming the words and his own voice in his ears calling you the prettiest girl ever, telling you that he could never get this anywhere else, telling you he never wanted to get this from anywhere else.

“Needed this so bad. I needed you so bad. I’ve missed you.” And just as his words finish, yours begin.

“Stiles, Stiles. Right there. ‘m … I’m…!”

He singles two fingers out, slips them between your thighs, and rubs along your clit until you’re shaking above him and holding onto his wrist between your bodies. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away, but watching you cum is too gorgeous for him to ever dream of making it stop.

So he doesn’t.

Not even when your eyes start to leak and your lips start to plead and you contract around him.

“One more,” he asks. “I just need to see it one more time. Please.”

The sound of him moving in and out of you is loud. He drifts his eyes down to watch it happen, groaning when he just barely sees a broken ring of white glinting in the fluorescents from the parking garage.

It feels a little romantic when you cum and then Stiles follows right after.

The Jeep is warm, the windows are foggy, and there’s an ache in Stiles’ thighs. He knows for every one of his aches, you have three. The condom has been removed, tied, and disposed of in an old paper bag Stiles had sitting on the floor of his car. His pants are pulled back up, but his belt is still undone. His shirt sticks to his skin and he really needs greasy food and a shower.

But if that means leaving this moment, and never returning to it, he could put off his needs and wants for an eternity.

You’re sitting next to him, redressed with the button of your jeans still undone. You’re staring straight ahead, trying to catch your breath as you rub the muscles in your thighs.

Stiles doesn’t know what to say, so he licks his lips and he says, “Uh … do you … um. Would you like some … ice or something? For your legs?”

You smile ahead, turn to face him, and shake your head. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a shower and good sleep won’t fix.” You pause. “And maybe some food.”

Which is how Stiles ends up sitting in your bed, sipping the remnants of his Dr. Pepper as he watches you lather lotion on your legs with your towel still hanging off of your body.

“Your food’s cold,” he tells you. He doesn’t tell you about the handful of fries he stole earlier, but he knows you’ll notice it and hold the grudge for later.

Later. Will there be a ‘later’?

“Be there in a second.” You start to walk back to the bathroom. “Should we go to that place in the morning? Or …” you look at your clock and wince at the time. “Later. The one with the really good pancakes?”

Stiles is quick to agree. He would love to do something with you later.

#stilesworld!#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski smut #celeste writes misc

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ace-turned-confused · 2 months ago

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sickening desire

joel masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader summary: you and your stepdad don't have much in common, but you always try to keep things friendly. back home for college break, he's not making it very easy. word count: 2,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a skirt, big ol' age gap (reader is nineteen), food mention, joel is big & beefy, stepcest, cheating, fucked morals all round, pet names, joel's a disgusting dirty perv (i'm so serious), smut, grinding, mentions of m & f masturbation, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, 1 spank, creampie, dirty talk, sprinkle of daddy kink, praise kink, panty kink a/n: written for @beefrobeefcal's MARRIED JOEL SITS ON YOU prompt - i got to witness the birth of this on discord, and thought how can i make this cute idea deranged instead, so here we are. idk how all this happened. this is stepcest, you have been warned. if it's not your thing then pls scroll on, no hard feelings in here <3 not beta'd

After weeks of phone calls, texts and endless hounding from your mother, you caved and decided to come home for your college break. She was missing you like crazy, and apparently you had aunts and cousins who were just dying to see you after so long, no doubt ready to bombard you with questions about the life of a college girl as if you were the first of the kind.

So, you came home to your mom and her new-ish husband, Joel Miller. You can count the number of times you’ve met him on one hand, one of those occasions being their wedding. You’re not sure how they make it work, but then opposites do attract…

Marriage has been good to Joel, his mental health and financial stability have improved, and overall he seems a happier person — not that you could tell from looking at him, with a permanent scowl etched on his face. The only ‘drawback’ seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline — his jeans now too tight around his thighs, the seams visibly strained, and his tummy poking out past his belt. They no doubt add to his eternal pissed-off facade, but he’s far too stubborn to admit he needs to buy new ones.

Your mom reminds him, often, how much he’s filled out in recent times, and judging by the bitterness in her voice, she clearly doesn’t approve. You’re not sure why she disapproves, but you’d never admit that.

From what you know, he’s neither an overly good nor a bad guy, he’s just… Joel, and the two of you have nothing to talk about, so you keep your distance out of courtesy. At least, you try to.

Since you’ve been home, you’ve caught him staring a few times but pin it down to aged eyesight. Most days he greets you in the kitchen with a husky ‘mornin’ sweetpea’, and makes a point of brushing up against you, half hard and warm in his threadbare sweatpants. He’ll place a hand on the small of your back when he stands beside you, pinky wandering down to toy with your waistband.

You cover up the way your breath catches and stop yourself from clenching your legs together every time — either he doesn’t have a grasp on personal space, or he’s doing this on purpose. The way he watches you move around once he’s sat down says all you need to know. You try not to think about it.

You’re flicking between channels one night when the front door clicks open, the heavy stomp of workboots echoing down the passage and into the room. Joel waltzes in, dumping his keys and without a word, sits directly onto you.

“What the fuck?”

“This is my chair, sweetpea. Not my fault you’re in it.”

You try pushing him off you, a losing battle with the extra kilos he’s put on since tying the knot with your mom. He mumbles something to you, his words lost underneath the TV and your strained grunting.

“What?” You huff at him, growing more and more agitated.

“I asked, you gettin’ off on this like you did sittin’ on my lap?”

Your mind swirls as you try to pinpoint what he means. It’s just when you’re about to give him lip and ask him what the fuck he’s on about, that you remember — and suddenly you wish the world would just swallow you whole.

During Sunday’s roast lunch, you were surrounded by extended family, filling in the blanks and avoiding the painfully personal questions; Joel spent the day with his standard disgruntled look and your mom was overzealous in her storytelling — everything and everyone just how you remembered.

Everyone broke off into smaller bubbles after lunch, and you stared at Joel as he unbuckled his belt and slumped back on your aunt’s couch — he stared right back at you, head cocked to one side as he weaselled his way into your mind with just a slight smirk and a wink, large hand resting teasingly over his crotch. You left the room, intentionally distancing yourself from him the rest of the day.

It was late afternoon by the time you begrudgingly hugged each family member goodbye and settled in the backseat next to Joel, some extras tagging along for the free ride back to your neighbourhood. With your headphones in and all other passengers occupied, you tried to nap the rest of the way home and regenerate the energy siphoned from you throughout the day. You had no complaints, up until now.

You sat up when your mom stopped off at a different house with just over half the trip still to go. Her heart of gold meant she’d offered a lift home to too many people for her one car, so being the youngest, she suggested you just squash up or sit on someone's lap… Which is fine when you’re nine, not nineteen.

And not just anyone offered up a place, no, Joel lifted his hand in the air and said you could sit on him — with no other way to get home, you pinched your eyes and cringed, but did it anyway. You were fine for the first 15 or so minutes until the road became uneven, and you realised just how fucked this whole thing was — when you first sat down on Joel, he wasn’t hard. You took a breath to try to steady yourself without drawing extra attention.

It was just a… natural response? God, that doesn’t make it any better.

You shifted forward, tried to reposition your weight over his legs and knees and told him you were just getting stiff — wrong fucking choice of words as you became even warmer than before.

Your mom stopped off to refuel along the way, everyone climbing out of the car to stretch, and you made a beeline for the bathroom, splashing yourself with water to cool down.

Joel watched as you came back to the car and you tried not to stare when you saw he was fully hard in his jeans; you felt mortified when you saw the damp patch you’d left on the fabric.

Back on Joel’s lap for the rest of the trip, everyone else was asleep with your mom still driving, radio turned up and blissfully unaware. You’d be able to forget about this, lock the memory away and move on if you hadn’t been so fucking turned on.

What’s worse, you making your stepdad hard, or him making you wet?

Joel snuck his hands onto your hips and you tensed, caught off guard by his touch.

“Keep ya steady,” he muttered, fingers digging into your skin.

Holding onto the seat in front for balance, he felt you were trying to lift your weight off him. He tightened his grip on you, slowly pulling you down onto him completely. There was no going back — he was fully hard by now, so he may as well get the most from this.

He pulled you to lean into his chest, his voice quiet in your ear, “S’alright sweetpea, almost there.”

Your head was turned to watch your mom the whole time, and Joel should have cared, but he just couldn’t, not when you were all warm and sweet on top of him. You stayed taut the entire trip home, Joel’s hands on your hips and bulge pressed deliciously against your core. He shifted you atop him every so often, and you desperately wanted to hate how good it felt.

When you finally arrived home, you clambered out of the car and left everyone to fend for themselves, darting for your room. You were about to close the door when you caught Joel staring again, the front of his jeans damp and darkened from where you were perched. You unpacked your clothes, sorted out your washing, and even took a shower but the incessant ache was still there. You finally gave in and shoved your hand between your legs.

A loud advert plays on the TV and brings you back into reality, Joel still firmly on top of you.

“Don’t act all fuckin’ innocent on me now, I know those panties of yours were gettin’ all wet with you grindin’ down on me like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were real quick to run off to your room that night, you had to stick your fingers up in that cunt of yours to get yourself off?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to. I know you dream of gettin’ fucked real good by your daddy, huh?” He twists to look at you, the motion pushing more of his weight onto you. “No point in arguin’ with me, I heard you that night… I’ve heard you on a lot of nights since you been home, always callin’ out for me.”

You don’t talk back as you keep pushing to get him off of you — he has enough leverage just from hearing you at night, he doesn’t also need to know that you are enjoying having his weight on you like this, unable to fight back or do anything about it.

“Now you got nothin’ to say?” He lifts himself slightly and gestures for you to get up, grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “Did I say I was done talkin’?”

He faces you towards the TV, standing you between his now spread legs. Skating his hands up the back of your legs, goosebumps rise on your skin as he moves higher and higher, lifting the hem of your skirt as he goes. He kneads the swell of your ass, sliding his thumbs under the edge of your panties.

“These the ones you had on that day?”

“Huh?”

“Barely touched you and you already can’t think straight. Are these the panties you had on when you sat on my lap?”

“Uh, no? I don’t know, Joel.”

He pulls your panties up to expose more of your skin, smacking a hand down on the side of your ass. You jolt forward at the impact, a fresh wave of arousal seeping out between your folds.

“‘S a real shame, I bet they were soaked right through, huh? Soakin’ ‘em right now, the way you’re droolin’ for me. You wanna know somethin’, sweetpea?” You don’t bother answering, lost in the feeling of finally having his hands on you. “Never used to enjoy doin’ laundry before you came to visit, but now… Well, now I get to see all the pretty panties you have. And I always know when you’ve been thinkin’ of me, they get extra dirty.”

He reaches up to grip your hip, his other hand twisting to push in between your legs. Your hips jerk as he traces his fingers along your damp panties, pushing up into you against the fabric.

“Seems like you actually were gettin’ off on havin’ me on top of you…” You crane your neck at the clink of his belt buckle and watch as he drags his zipper down. He stares up at you the whole time. “But now you’re gonna sit on me again.”

Pulling you backwards by your waist, he keeps your skirt lifted and hooks a finger into the gusset of your panties, tugging them aside. He runs his fingers through your folds, already sticky with need. You clench your legs when he pulls away again, and he sighs, frantic and satisfied; turning around again you see he’s taken his cock in his hand, thick and hard, coating himself in your slick.

He guides you down onto him and a gasp slips from you as he drags the head of his cock through you to line himself up. Your gasps turn to a strangled moan as he pulls you to sit, sheathing himself completely — it’s a delicious stretch without any prep, and again you find yourself wishing you could hate this, hate him for doing this.

He lets your skirt drop down again as you settle on his lap, and picks up the TV remote with one hand, the other a vice grip on your waist. He flips through the channels, ignoring the fact you’re sitting firmly on him.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? We’re watchin’ TV, sweetpea. And you’re gonna be a good girl for me and sit still. With all the starin’ and whinin’ you do, this was only a matter of time.”

“And all the staring you do?”

“As if you don’t fuckin’ love it.” You clench around him at his words and he sniggers at you. “You’re real tight, sweetheart. Now sit still.”

You’re not sure how long you sit like this — Joel staring deadpan at the TV with his hands wrapped around your waist, and you aching for relief as you hold back from squirming on top of him. The initial sting has subsided, replaced now with a steady and simmering burn as you leak around him.

Your breathing deepens as you fight with yourself — do stay composed and try to win, or give in and let Joel make you feel good?

“Won’t lie, sweetpea, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had it in you.” His low voice draws you from your inner conflict. “‘Specially now that you got me in you.”

You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, and he punctuates himself with a lift of his hips, rolling you on him. Fuck it, just give in. Whimpering as he repeats the motion over and over, it’s the most he’s done the entire night.

“You wanna know somethin’ else?” He keeps grinding your hips against him, the stretch of his cock and the strain of your panties against your clit bringing you closer and closer. “Dunno if you’ve ever noticed your panties go missing? S’cause I took ‘em, sweetpea. I take your pretty panties and I use ‘em to jerk off, dirty or clean, doesn’t matter to me, s’long as they’re yours. I smell ‘em, I wrap ‘em around my cock, I picture you wearin’ ‘em when I come all over ‘em.”

At some point in his rambling, he’d snaked a hand around to your front and under your skirt, and shoved his fingers in your panties to circle your clit. Just like a lot of things lately, you’re trying to hate how much you love it.

“That’s it sweetpea, come all over your daddy.”

Your legs tense, trapping his hand as he works you through your high, murmuring praises in your ear as you writhe on top of him — unfortunately for you, it’s the hardest you’ve ever come. He doesn’t give you time to think, wrapping his arms around you to lift you up and bundling your arms behind your back.

“Stay there, ‘m not done with you.”

Steadying yourself by leaning on his jean-covered thighs, he starts pistoning up into you, over and over as he uses you for his own high. Squeezing your hips, he pulls you down to match his thrusts, the room filled with his grunting and your whining and the obscene squelch from between your legs each time he fills you. It’s not long before he starts shuddering underneath you, pulling you down hard as he spills into you with a groan.

He holds you, almost affectionately in his arms as he relaxes, warm breath being puffed into your neck as he nuzzles against you and his hands smoothing over your clothes. Turning to look at him, his lips are just parted and his pupils are blown wide. You try to discern the emotion behind his eyes, surging forward to press your lips to his instead, afraid of what the truth might be.

It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s almost pure, the way he kisses you back, the hairs of his beard and moustache prickling your skin as a hand comes up to cradle your face, the other still held around your waist. You pull back from him, and he has that usual deviant glint in his eyes when he opens them again.

He stands you in front of him, just like you were before this, and he pulls your panties back over your core. He waits and watches as his spend starts oozing out of you and gets absorbed into the already damp cotton.

“Definitely gonna make good use of these ones, sweetpea.” He winks as he stands up, tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, still sticky from both you and himself. “Next time you can wear ‘em, just like I told you.”

tagging some friendos from the wip wednesday snippets, Imk if you'd like to be taken off <3

@luxurychristmaspudding @whocaresstillthelouvre @milla-frenchy @clawdee @burntheedges

@greenwitchfromthewoods @yopossum @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @bubble-pop-eclectic

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel sat on me 2024 #TUMBLR STOP BEING FUCKING COWARDS DAMNIT

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lolahauri · 2 months ago

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's Your Sex I Can Smell, P2

Ship: Ticci Toby/Reader

Type: Explicit Smut, F/M, Part 2/3. (MDNI)

Contains: Dom Reader, Sub Toby, Missionary Position, Handjob, Female Masturbation, Vibrators, Edging, Orgasm Control, Crying, A LOT of Teasing & Begging, Creampie, Praise, Dirty Talk, Lots of "Good Boy", Love Confession, Post-Sex Cuddling.

Words: 3k

M/M Ver: Coming Soon...

A/N: Hope this doesn't disappoint! So sorry for the wait. <3 Part 1 <-

Much to your dismay, nearly all of the shops in town were closed today. Meaning your only options for grabbing household essentials were a couple gas stations that decided to stay open on a national holiday. You weren’t happy about it at all, but you tried to look on the bright side. At least you could get home to Toby sooner, right? Now that you don’t have to browse a large grocery store.

You moved the small bags of food to one hand and opened the door to the cabin. “Tobes! I’m home early!” you yelled out into the living room, not checking to see if he was actually still there first. “I guess it’s some kind of… holiday…?” Your voice lowered and your sentence was interrupted when you heard strange sounds coming from the opposite end of the house.

“The fuck is that?” You thought to yourself as you set the bags on the table. It sounded like some kind of crying almost? Was Toby hurt? What could have even happened in the hour you were gone? He was literally the only one home. It couldn’t have been a cooking accident, he was eating when you left. Plus, he was clearly not in the kitchen.

Worried someone, or something, had broken in, you moved cautiously down the hall, pocket knife in hand. You weren’t sure at first, but you knew now the sound was definitely coming from your room. But why would he be in your…

....

Oh!

You covered your mouth to hush the loud gasp threatening to escape. Peeking past the doorway to your room once again, you almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Toby, your best friend, in your bed, masturbating, and smelling your… used underwear... Jesus Christ.

It wasn’t often you were left speechless, but this was one of the rare times you were. What had you most confused though were your own feelings. You wanted to believe it was just something between pity and disgust, but the heat spreading between your thighs told you that wasn’t all you felt.

It was embarrassing, really. On one hand you wanted to yell at him, slap him across the face for being so fucking disgusting. But on the other, you wanted to keep watching, maybe even join him. There’s something so grossly erotic about watching him please himself with your belongings, thinking he’s alone, that he’ll get away with it and you’ll never know.

You didn’t even realize how hard you were spaced out until you were snapped out of it by Toby’s orgasm. Your cunt throbbed suddenly, your eyes widening again. He was whimpering and crying out your name while his cum soaked your underwear. You cringed at the sight, it was both sickening and insanely arousing. As he went to remove the article from his lap, you figured now would be as good a time as any to make your presence known. You didn’t want him to get too tired before you could play with him a little.

Walking into the room quietly, you leaned against the door frame, putting your knife back in your pocket. “Having fun, Toby? God, you’re so fucking pathetic.” You bit your lip and smiled to hold back a laugh, watching as he immediately jumped at the sound of your voice and locked eyes with you. Did he really not know you were there at all? Guess he’s not only a pervert, but fucking oblivious too.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as you stepped further into your room. He began sputtering out apologies and stuffing his cock back into his pants, tripping and stuttering over his words to the point you could barely understand him. He seemed so caught up in his panic he didn’t even notice that you’d turned to lock the door, now carefully stepping towards him.

“Relax, Tobes. I’m not gonna hurt you. Jesus...” You couldn't help but giggle a little, he's kind of adorable when he's scared.

Wait, what? That shut him up right away.

"U-uhm, you-you're not?" He looked and sounded both confused and cautious. Is this some kind of trick? Are you about to kill him? His heart raced as you stepped right in front of him.

"No, of course not." You took off your jacket and carefully climbed into the bed with him, straddling one of this thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I wanted to join you actually. Is that okay, Toby?

Toby looks up at you in disbelief, wondering if he actually died and went to heaven. He figures this has to be a trap, there's no god damn way you're trying to fuck him right now.

But on the other hand, you definitely could've killed him already if you wanted to. You must not mean any harm. So what's the worst that could happen then? You lead him on, you don't let him cum? He would deserve that so he couldn't really complain-

"Toby? Hellooo?" He jumped at your voice, clearly unaware he was lost in thought.

"S-sorry, uh, yes? Of course!" His voice cracked a bit. He carefully put on a hand on your waist, testing the waters first. He then gazed up at you with those big brown puppy eyes, waiting for you to take the lead.

"Great. You just lay back and be a good boy then, got it?" You whispered. He obediently nodded in return, whining at the nickname.

Time for the fun to begin.

You ran your hands from his shoulders all the way down his torso, just barely feeling the muscles and scars on his body through his sweatshirt. His breathe becoming shaky the further you trailed down south, the anticipation making every hair on his body stand up. By the time your fingers reached the waistband of his boxers, he was nearly squirming under your touch.

His jeans were still unbuttoned and barely covered his growing bulge, leaving him to be easily accessed. You held one hand on his hip to keep him still, and let the other move to his cock, gently palming him through his boxers. A relieved sigh slipped past Toby's lips as his cock jumped at the sensation.

An uncomfortable ache spread between your legs the longer you played with his cock. Squeezing your thighs together was no longer providing any relief, but you just couldn't stop teasing him. Every little noise that came from him made a spark of electricity shoot through you, and the feeling of his cock non-stop twitching and throbbing under your palm only made you want more.

You could sense you weren't the only one feeling impatient though when he started bucking his hips up to meet your touch. Toby let out a strangled moan as you ghosted your fingers over his tip, feeling that it'd already begun leaking precum, leaving a small wet patch on his underwear.

"Please..." His voice was barely above a whisper, moving his hips up again to press into your hand.

"Mm-mm." You shook your head at him and removed your hands from his bulge. "None of that. Stay still and tell me what you want."

He whined in discomfort, covering his reddening face with his hands, already struggling with the loss of contact. "Plea- please..." Is all he managed to get out. "God, this is embarrassing" he thought.

" 'Please' what? C'mon, be a good boy and use your words." Hands now tracing along the waistband of his underwear. His only response was a groan in frustration, trying again to thrust up, only to be met with you pinning him down harder with both hands. "Listen, I'm not going to say it again, Toby. Tell me what you want, or you're not getting anything at all."

"Ughh. Fuck, just-just touch me. Please, anything. Need... need more." He was tossing and turning underneath you, getting increasingly antsy and impatient

"That's all I needed to hear." Before he could whine in annoyance at your condescension, you'd already dipped your hand back into his pants. Only this time instead of more teasing, you fully pulled his cock out and brought his pants down just enough to leave him fully out on display. He wasn't the only one craving more.

The cool air hitting his blazing hot skin made him shiver, but you were quick to start warming him up. You gently wrapped a hand around Toby's cock as you knelt between his legs, stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn't complain yet though, he was just happy you were touching him at all.

After a few slow pumps of his cock, you stopped to tease his tip, smearing the precum dribbling out and using it as lube as you continued. Toby's face was flushed and sweaty when you started to pick up the pace, jerking him off just quick enough to not be too teasing, but still not enough to bring him to the edge. Just what you wanted.

"F-faster..." He begged, huffing and gripping the bed sheets.

"You want more?" You smirked when he nodded his head eagerly. "Okay, what's the magic word?"

Normally he would've been pissed off at you for talking to him like that, mocking and taunting him, but right now, any shame he had was long gone. He was willing and ready to do any and every thing you asked of him.

"P-lease! Pleasee go faster!" His voice strained, body twitching underneath you. The constant flow of whimpers makes your cunt throb painfully, but you aren't done playing yet. You're just getting started.

"That's it, good boy, good boy." You leaned your head down a bit to spit on his aching cock, immediately earning a high-pitched moan from him. You started jerking him off at a fast pace, letting your other hand move down to cup his balls. He gasped as you began to gently massage and rub them, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure.

He whimpers your name and grips your arms tightly, "I'm- I'm getting s-soo close. Holyy shit"

"Yeah? You wanna cum?"

"Fuuck yess, please let me cum." He sounded so cute and pathetic you almost considered letting him. But unfortunately for him, you're not done yet.

"Mm, I don't think so." The hand that was stroking his cock slowed to a full stop before you pulled both of them away. He whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and looked at you with half lidded eyes, looking like a sad little puppy.

"W-why?" Was all he could get out, his voice sounding so weak and defeated.

"Oh come on, you already came once today. I should be able to have some fun too, don't you think?." He looked away and blushed, feeling guilty and embarrassed. You shuffled out from between his legs and moved further down the bed.

"Tell you what," You started to pull your t-shirt off, "I'll let you watch. And maybe if you behave I'll let you touch yourself too. How's that sound?"

Toby's eyes were glued to your tits the entire time you spoke, but eventually he stuttered out an agreement. He couldn't deny that he had definitely fantasized about watching you masturbate before. He'd be crazy to not take you up on this offer.

You then slowly pulled down your shorts and panties, trying not to giggle as you watched him follow your every move, practically drooling in anticipation.

When you were finally undressed, you leaned back on one arm, spreading your legs and letting Toby see the mess he made of you already. His cock jumped at the sight of your glistening cunt, whining a little under his breathe.

"Tobes, open my nightstand and toss me my vibrator." He listened straight away, doing it as fast as possible, so eager to watch.

You started on the lowest setting first to tease yourself a little, wanting to last as long as possible and give Toby a real good show. The toy buzzed lightly as you slowly ran it up your pussy, wetting it with your juices.

A relieved sigh escaped you when the toy finally reached your neglected clit. Despite being fully exposed to the rooms chilly air, your skin was on fire. Waves of tingling heat washing over you.

You slowly rubbed it in tight circles, watching Toby the entire time. He was anxiously shifting in his seat, wanting so desperately to join you, but he knew he had to wait for your approval. He looked so cute sitting there waiting for your command. God, how you wanted him to just crawl on top of you fuck you right then.

That wouldn't be a punishment, though. You'll have to let him take lead next time.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as you lowered your gaze to his cock, imagining how it'd feel inside you. He's big. It'd probably stretch you out real good. Fuck, this is going way too slow for your liking. You needed more.

You inhaled sharply as you turn the vibration speed up, setting it at medium. "Shit..." You rubbed your clit in long, slow strips. It was getting hard to stay slow, you wanted to cum so bad, but you tried to hold out as long as possible.

"You wanna join, Toby?" Looking into his eyes, you could already tell the answer.

"Ye-yes please." He replied so cautiously, yet he was quick to grab his aching cock. He started to jerk himself off like he was in a rush, way too fast to not cum soon.

"Hey, slow down. Stay with me, 'kay?" You said as sternly as you could at the moment. But you had to admit your confidence was faltering at bit.

Toby nodded and slowed down, his breathing getting shaky and ragged as he stared at your cunt, watching your juices drip onto the sheets. He felt so hot and dizzy. All he wanted was to be inside you. He couldn't stop the whimpers that came out after each stroke of his cock. He sounded like he was about to cry.

And that only turned you on more.

You clicked your vibrator one last time, putting it on the highest setting and rubbing yourself faster. You cursed and moaned as you swiped the toy across your clit over and over and over. The muscles in your thighs and abdomen started to tense up. An intense pressure rapidly building up. You were going to cum at any minute, you couldn't stop it now.

Toby was feeling the exact same way, listening to your pretty moans as he watched you fuck yourself was making him lose his god damn mind. He started begging you to let him finish too, he couldn't handle anymore edging. He might actually start sobbing if you deny him again.

"Can I cum wi-with you? Please? Please, please, please!" His voice cracked and wavered, small tears brimming his eyes.

You were seconds away from your climax now, but you still didn't let up, "No-no fucking way! Don't you -oh fuck- don't you dare fucking cum. Wait till- till you're inside."

You could barely get your sentence out before cumming all over your vibrator. The feeling hit you like a train, like you were about to pass out from the intensity and exhaustion. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, quickly becoming overstimulated as you rode out your orgasm.

When it was over, you felt limp, barely able to keep yourself propped up. Damn. Guess you will have to let Toby take it from here. You've probably punished him enough anyway, why not give him a treat?

You lazily tossed your vibrator onto the floor, calling Toby's name and catching his attention immediately. The look on his face made your heart jump.

Oh, poor baby. His eyes were so glossy with tears, panting from being worked up so much. But what a good boy he was, listening to your every word. He's definitely earned this.

You spread your legs open again, beckoning him to come forward. "C'mere baby, finish inside me, you earned it."

He didn't wait a second to jump at the opportunity, not wanting to wait and have you change your mind. He crawled on top of you and wasted no time slipping himself inside.

You both gasped at the intrusion, his big cock stretched you out perfectly, and his eyes were rolling back at how fucking tight and soaked you were. He didn't even have to wait to start pounding into you like an animal, he slid right in and fucked you with ease.

Toby knew he wasn't going to last long, so he savored this feeling as long as he could. He buried his face into your neck, moaning after each thrust, slamming into you as hard and fast as he physically could.

He was falling apart quickly though, the way your walls squeezed around him left him breathless. He gripped onto the sheets tightly and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of your throat. Not hard enough to bleed, but enough to make you gasp and tighten around him. You felt so good he couldn't believe it.

He wished this could last forever, but he just couldn't hold off any longer, feeling the pressure of his long-awaited orgasm sneak up on him already. He moved his hands off of your sheets and snaked his arms underneath you and around your torso, pulling you into a tight embrace before he came.

His thrusts became sloppy and erratic as he reached his climax, now completely unable to hold back all his pretty little noises. His exhausted body trembled as he came deep inside you, crying into your neck and muttering "i love you" over and over again. He stayed inside until he was totally spent, trying to cock warm you as long as could.

It took all of his willpower to finally pull out of you, he wished he could relish in the feeling of being inside you forever. But for now, cuddling your sweaty, equally tired self would have to do.

He collapsed next you and pulled you back into his chest, refusing to let go of you even to clean up, insisting you wait until morning to shower together.

And you accepted that, too tired to argue back as you felt sleepiness take over, quietly dozing off with his strong arms wrapped around you.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I luv you all! (❁´◡`❁)

#ugh toby my love #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader smut #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader smut #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby smut

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hanasnx · 3 months ago

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" AND THE SPIDERMAN IS ALWAYS HUNGRY " — venom.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: takes place within the marvel's spider-man 2 game timeline. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ predator/prey dynamic + kink ノ kidnapping ノ stockholm syndrome ノ explicit sexual content ノ dubcon ノ finger coiling in hair mention ノ hands wrapped entirely around a torso mention ノ decided not to do tentacle porn for this one ノ p in v ノ objectification.

You can hear the thunder pound against the entrance to his lair, demanding passage, sending a great storm to tear down the walls and wet the earth it's denied. Your companion believes himself to be larger than life, and above the travesty of natural disasters. Its tendrils house its cave, keeping the harsh weather out—and you in.

Before your abduction, your last ditch effort to appeal for your own life was to befriend this... stranger. You're unsure of what it is, or who it claims to be, other than the English name it gave you: VENOM. Apparently, you've got a PhD for a reason, because you're still alive, yet he won't let you leave. Lab conditions are not ideal, but he fetches what you list rather intelligently. It makes you wonder how he knows so much about Earth, when he's informed you that he's not from here. You hesitate to call him an alien when he looks so humanoid. He's rather affectionate with you to an uncomfortable degree, rewarding your dedication to his cause with experimental touches you do your best to appropriately shy away from. You've seen what he does to those that disappoint him, and his form changes shape at will. Some nights you wake up in a cold sweat after he's speared you through your gut with his sharpened hand in your dreams.

"Your... meteorite- it's under ground. I've yet to pinpoint the exact location but—" you explain, and you hear the husky sub-vocals of interest, exhaling as he looms over your shoulder to eye the monitor you're typing on. His jaw opens, and that sickening tongue slithers out like a snake, wetting his glistening razor teeth. You gulp as you watch him cautiously, your stomach churning at the sight of him move in slow like a predator, so close to your body. The weight of his hand at the back of your chair alarms you, and your neck begins to ache from how your crane it to look up at him. "—I'll... have the... coordinates... by morning..." you trail your words. Subconsciously, you lean away from him, but what's an inch of space when your companion fills a room?

He hums appreciatively, which comes out as a rumbling growl. When you were first captured, such a sound might've caused you to tremble, but you're a little more used to him now, so you avert your eyes to stare at the screen, the only brightness in the room. The weight from your chair shifts, and you tense. You don't dare move a muscle, and your eyes brim with moisture from refusing to blink. A palm sets on your shoulder, it's heavy and there's no warmth to it. Vaguely damp, it bleeds a cold through the material of your shirt and a strength pulls you in its direction. For a second—a second—you question if you should've revealed you might've outlived your usefulness. The gruff hum nears, and a presence ventures impossibly closer, and out of instinct you shy away, pinching your opposite shoulder up to angle your head, protecting your neck. A wet and gummy sensation presses its pad to your cheek, and the quietest squeak of disgust escapes you, narrowing your closest eye as it travels up to leave a slimy trail in its wake. His tongue licks up your jaw to your temple, matting up the hair it touches.

Air cools the sodden path he left on you, and when he seems pleased with himself, he leaves you. A powerful shudder shoots up your spine and with a shaking hand you wipe off the evidence of his affection with your shirt sleeve.

Now, you don't shy away nearly as much. His plans have been delayed, but you've come to look forward to his little signs of endearment towards you. A finger that coils a lock of your hair around it, a bundle of your things he retrieved from your apartment for you, even going as far as to use his strength to raise your arm and twirl you like a little doll. Small actions that are evident of some strain of humanity, however buried deep inside underneath his toothy exterior.

After you realize your bravery, you come to ask him for more attention. You run a hand down his cheek, trace a fang, invite yourself onto his lap... He takes note of your bids.

Swapping pleasure becomes as easy as sharing breath, and love-making with him is nothing short of violent. Large hands encircle your torso entirely, claws bluntly dig into soft flesh, prickling your skin in a most delicious way as a rod he fashioned for you divvies up your insides. Your palms are flat on a surface, bracing his weight as he pushes into you. As if he did it on purpose, the phallic shape he formed has a girth a size too big, watching with intrigued interest at how your little pleasure hole struggles when stuffed full. He curls his great body forward, that slippery tongue's tip slotting into the dip of your tailbone, and tracing the line up your spine. You shiver, your palm coming to one of his fingers on your waist to wrap entirely around it.

Like a weightless toy, Venom handles you effortlessly, pushing and pulling you to seat fully on his length just as he offers his hips to you. The noises you make is like music to him, pressing his chest to you so he can be as close to your symphony as possible. You turn your head, brows pinched and pretty countenance skewed, panting like a little desperate animal. A delicate sheen of sweat layers your skin, the taste of it intoxicates him, and he wetly licks another stripe on your neck, molding it against your jawline until you angle your head. Your own hangs out of your mouth, chasing his, and he obliges you, entwining his coiling tip around yours just as he sheathes, forcing a choked sound out of your throat.

Now that you've invited him, he advances, the girth of his tongue causing your jaw to ache from being pried open as he fills another one of your holes. That crooked grin doesn't bother you as milky white eyes observe your strange and addicting behavior, feeding off the chemical in the brain he's inhabiting.

#ch: venom #indy: drabbles #venom drabble #venom smut #venom x fem reader #venom x reader #venom x you #venom x y/n #venom imagine #venom fic #venom fanfiction #reader insert #tw kidnapping #tw dark content #tw dubcon

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barleyo · 3 months ago

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678-999-8212.

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: part two for my last fic!! ermmmm once again ily if you know the title's reference :3 this is a short addition too but idk i don't think part one required a super long part two! please read the tags, leon is mean in this one :c

Part One: here

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (21-50s), degradation, choking, hate-sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, non-con, striking/smacking of the face, alcohol mention

Wordcount: 1k

Leon had never driven this fast before. To hell with every red light in his way, he needed to get home. Foot sat firmly on the gas pedal, inching further and faster the more he thought about the series of events that led him here.

His daughter was an absolute slut. How many men had you 'entertained' like that before? How many filthy calls had you made to men who were possibly even older than himself? More than that— how had he fallen into your trap?

He made a silent promise to himself to put the bottle down, seeing as it left him in that situation. A promise that was an empty one, but it offered him solace in the moment as he pulled into his driveway.

Leon's feet struggled against the pavement. He was still unbearably drunk and dizzy, now with added anger and unfounded horniness. He felt gross, disgusted by the erection popping in his slacks, but he couldn't help it. He was fathering a damn siren, and god did you know what you were doing. Your sickening voice, overly sweet moans, and your slick and noisy cunt that cried for him over the phone. It was all too much.

"You fucking slut!"

Leon had never been a rough dad. He wasn't a yeller, not one for heavy discipline. After his unfortunate discovery about you, though? He was quick to slam the front door shut and run up the stairs, feet clashing against each step with a violent speed.

Whatever you had been watching on your television was quickly shut off when you heard his tone. You scampered under your blankets and feigned sleep. You had zero clue what he was on about, but you knew it would turn ugly just by the sheer anger in his voice. He couldn't yell at a sleeping beauty like you, could he?

Yes, obviously he could and would. Stubborn old man.

"I know you aren't asleep," Leon spat, ripping the covers off of you. You stayed still, breath pausing in your chest. "Don't act innocent, brat."

Fine, so there was no escaping this. Damn it, what was this all about?

You begrudgingly relented and opened your eyes. Arms crossed defensively over your chest, an equal mix of fear and discomfort on your face as you scanned over your dad.

You took in everything about him. His eyebrows were drawn together. His jaw was clenched tight enough that you thought it could pop at any minute. Fists balled up at his sides. Eyes dark. Dick hard— oh. Oh?

"You wanna tell me what you were doing earlier? Any specific calls y'made?"

"Say it."

You had never heard your father speak so roughly, and anything close to the tone he used was never directed towards you. You were his sweet girl, daddy's baby forever. Now, though, each slam of his hips into yours made you feel like a cheap whore.

"It's not true," you said. "I'm not a slut! I'm not, I promise."

You felt his large hand's grip over your neck tighten. Tears were threatening to spill, to run down your red, stinging cheek where the mark of his hand was freshly placed. You held it in. Daddy told you not to cry, that you had no right to.

"Was just a mistake. I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, real convincing." Leon sneered down at you. It stung more than the unrelenting thrusts, more than the way his palm met your cheek. He never looked at you like that, like you were nothing. You wanted it to stop. "I didn't raise you to be a whore. You think you're fuckin' grown, huh? Showing off for whoever rings you up like some call-center bitch?"

You wanted to kick and cry, but the words stopped in your chest. Shameful wails sprouted from you. It was all true, every word he said.

"I just wanted attention," you were finally able to make out, despite the ever firmness of his hand around your throat. "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again. Promise."

Deep down, Leon felt awful for treating you like this. He tried to reason with himself. You needed to learn. How could you learn from a 'mistake,' as you called it, without a proper punishment? He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it. He couldn't have a whore-daughter, at least not such a shameless one.

"Yeah? How's it feel now? You're getting all the attention you want now. Not enough for you, greedy bitch?"

Thankfully for you, he released you from the chokehold he had you in. He internally winced at the already forming bruise he left. His hands found your lower stomach and he pushed down. Hard.

"There you go. Feel every bit of my cock."

God, he was so mean. His head knocked into your cervix roughly, no regard for your pleasure. It hurt, but the friction of his girthy cock dragging against your abused walls helped a little.

Small flutters of pleasure peaked through the rough treatment, making it semi-worth it. Maybe if you came, if you focused real hard on getting over the edge, then maybe you could forget his awful words.

He wasn't nearly that nice, though. He kept grumbling under his breath, spitting out vile insults about you. Even as his voice cracked, he couldn't help but let his hips stutter forwards into you, whispering the harshest things.

With a final, especially rough thrust, he came. He didn't bother to pull out, he didn't even try. Rather, he burrowed further into your sore walls and marked you with his seed, claiming you like the territory you were.

As you tried to pull away, feeling utterly used and unsatisfied, you felt his strong arms yank you back.

"Where do you think you're going?"

His face softened a little. Good, at least he wasn't scowling at you any more.

"We aren't done...?"

"Not even close." He pushed your legs back, resting them over his shoulders. "Whores don't get breaks. We aren't done until I'm good and fucking satisfied."

He leaned down, dipping his head so he could spit. He watched the dribble of saliva coat your hole.

"If you aren't gonna be my good girl anymore, the least you could do is put out."

#tw inc*st #cw incest #rough kink #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #dad x daughter #x reader #smut #dead dove do not eat

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verinarin · 4 months ago

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Debate turned into him fucking you until you’re speechless

Someone needs to lower his ego, that's where you come in and he doesn't like the fact that you dare challenge him one bit nsfw; rivals to lovers, hate fucking, breeding kink, belly bulge [Reposted]

Veritas absolutely despises you, outsmarting him, but he finds a way to actually turn you into an idiot once in a while…

It started off with a heated argument that leads into you sitting on his desk, legs spread open while his mouth pressed kisses against your inner thigh, biting it also to mark what eventually would be his

“What the hell are you doing Veritas !,” you whine, trying to kick him off which he easily dodge, he pushes your ankle to your chest with a huge grin

He leans forward as he presses both of your thighs to your chest, nestling closely to your neck. “I want to fuck your thoughts away, keep you nice and dumb, that’s what I’m trying to achieve here,”

“As if you could succeed at doing so, you can’t even refute my argument earlier,” you were referencing to the debate he lost, oh you’re rubbing grounded salt to his wounds, he does not take that kindly

He’s now kneeling down, his hands still gripping tightly on your plush thighs, so tight that it made you wince. His eyes glaring at your face, like a promise…

A promise to make you fall for him, to make you intoxicated by his presence, to make you his

“Watch me,” and with that he presses a kiss on your clothed clit, sucking the nerve earns him the very first noise that he actually enjoys coming out from your smart mouth, your moans

You felt embarrassed to not be able to hold in your moan like that, not when he’s so filthy. Licking stripes over your clothed cunt, making the fabric transparent

“H-haaah how nghhh disgusting, for someone who has bathing as their favourite activity to do, you’re so filthy nghhahh,” you try to regain your dignity by a nasty remark that’s proven to be in vain

He just laughs which makes things worse then they are, “If you want me to clean this leaking hole afterwards just say so, no need to act so elusive,”

“You talk to much, here if I do this…” he slid your panties to the side and push the tip of his tongue inside your glistening cunt

Tasting you directly onto his tongue is like Adam tasting the forbidden fruit, for someone whose words laced with insults you’re so fucking sweet

He never was interested in pursuing his filthy human desires, but thanks to you he now finds himself a forbidden fruit of his own

“Mnhmm” you try so hard not to succumb towards your carnal desires after all lust is one of the 7 deadly sins

Veritas however does not take your resistance kindly, you’re so adamant on denying yourself from the pleasure he could give. He scoffs as he places one of his hand to keep your thighs at place while the other pinches your clit

He effortlessly pry your moans out of your mouth, not only that he also effectively turn you into a trembling mess “Now that’s a sight!, perhaps I should sculpt this moment and display it on my personal quarters,”

“F-fucking pervert,” you spat, he just laughs at your lust ridden face. His eyes staring straight at yours before he smirks, standing up with ease to lean forward towards your neck

He starts to motion his fingers up and down against your wet hole with a sickening smile on his face “50 points, you’re halfway correct. I’m no pervert,”

“But I am someone that will fuck you,” without wasting any time he slid his index finger into your cunt, “How tight !, it seems that I have to give your cunt more stimulation…” he whispers against your neck

“Nghh just fuck me already,” you huff impatiently, you can’t afford to waste anymore of your time with trivial matters such as lust, but aeons he does make you falter

He scoffs, how dare you push him around. Isn’t pushing him around at the guild enough for you, he’s just being nice for a change knowing that if he didn’t prepare your tight hole well enough you would scream in pain

Perhaps he wants to see that pained expression of your mixed with pleasure, ahh he’s getting ahead of himself

There’s always next time after all…

“Now now I think you want me to take my time with you, you’ll understand what I mean later,” he smiles as he slid one more of his fingers, filling you up quite nicely

“Oh wow how cocky you- ahhh~” he silenced that quirky remark you’re going to make by thrusting his fingers in methodically only to help you climax as fast as possible since you are so impatient, once he meets your g-spot it was all over for you

Your moans decorates the room as he curved his fingers upwards towards your g-spot while his other hand presses down on where your womb would be

“S-shit ahhhn m’cumming Veri,” suddenly he stops, you were so close yet he fucking stops

“Ahh that’s cute, call me once more than I’ll let you have it,” he smiles as he pulls his fingers out and and brings it to your mouth

You quickly lapped down your juice while maintaining eye contact with him, your dignity be dammed you could only feel your need to cum right now “Veri please make me cum,”

“Ahhh I wish you would be this submissive everyday, not picking meaningless debates and just let me pleasure this pussy” he huffs as he tap his fingers on your clit twice before sliding it back in

“Thank you thank you thank you,” you whine as he picks the pace of his fingers up letting you cum all over his desk in a instant

“Wow I guess you can say thank you,” he sarcastically reply as he unzip his pants and free his leaking cock, the tip is red and wanting

Okay now your understand why he took his time with you because without foreplay his cock is going to hurt, hell even with foreplay you still think there’s a chance of if hurting

He sense your worry of course, he leans forward as he rest his cock against your stomach. Aeons it’s soo big that the length went pass your bellybutton…

“You might hate me but I don’t hate you so don’t you worry, I’ll take it slow and yes it’ll fit,” he smirks before kissing your forehead

Oh shit if he keeps this up, you might fall for him…

“I don’t hate you, I just think someone needs to keep in check on that huge ego of yours. Do not fret I’m always here to lower it into basic human standards,” you scoffs, which he replies with a laugh of his own

“Sounds beneficial, I am told to be quite the narcissist perhaps you could keep me in line,” he smiles as he press a kiss on the side of your lips.

“Yes I believe so,” you mumble feeling dizzy from his gentle kisses

He leans let his lips close to yours, it barely touches as he spoke “May I kiss you ?,”

You don’t even answer, you looped your arms around his neck and force his lips onto your which accepts with a smile, his tender kiss somehow made his cock twitch against your skin

Snaking your hand towards his cock, lathering his precum towards his length earns you a delicious moan against the kiss “Ahhhn what a minx”

With that he slid his cock towards your clit, tapping his tip right onto the sensitive nerve as payback, you could only whine as he tease you. He teases for the sole purpose of breaking your ego, to make you beg for him, but it proves to be rather hard because he’s faltering at the mere pleasure of friction

“Feels so good like this, ahh can’t wait till I feel how tight you’re going to be,” he whines as he grinds his full length against your slippery hole, he needs to hold his length by the base or else it might accidentally slip inside you

“Fuck !, no one’s stopping you put it in damn it,” you groan as you try to guide his tip into your hole

“So bossy,” he smirks, he wants to just slam into you just to shut you up. It’ll be painful to do so and it seems you’re to cockdrunk to make any decisions

Because of that he finally slid his length in without waiting for you to beg, he doesn’t want you to shove his length in without the controlling the length you could handle after all

“Mnghh ahhh so bigg,” see this proves his point, even though he would like to ram it into your tight hole in one swift move, he doesn’t want to break your cunt

At least not the first time he fucks you…

With a huff he slowly thrust himself inch by inch, “Fuck, this is why you need to learn patience shit so fucking tight, relax dearest or else it’s not going to fit,”

Your eyes starts to produce tears because of the sheer pain and pleasure, he leans down to kiss the tears from you face, whispering words of encouragement as he slowly thrust his full length inside you, balls deep

“Shit you feel this,” he drags your weak hand across the eminent bulge on your stomach, “This is why I was adamant about preparing your tight hole for me,”

He slides out before thrusting back in to further prove his earlier hypothesis “Do you understand ?, how easily I could break this hole,”

“Y-yeshh understood sirr, too big f’me,” oh you’re already dumb on his cock, how cute he thought

“Can you hold your thighs keep it pressed against your breast for me?,” he asks which you do without any hesitation, he could see it clearly now, his cock dragging itself in and out

For you on the other, you feel his tip kissing your cervix because of this position, all of your thoughts are currently postponed ever since that cock enters your cunt

All you can do is hold your thighs as he pounds into you, he starts to pick up the pace once your pained moans turns into you begging him to go harder

Of course he’s not going to deny you such pleasure

“So tight fuck, I ruined other cocks for you from now on,” you could only reply with a nod as he shook your whole body

Thrusting himself in a angle that’s abuses your g-spot making you cum with every single deep thrust, “Fuckk can’t stop cummingghh,”

“That’s the plan sweetheart, you won’t stop coming until I say so, am I not generous?,” he chuckles breathlessly as he toy with your clit with every thrust

“Fuck you know if I breed you, make you carry my child. I think our genetics would be unparalleled, both of us are intelligent and attractive, ahh what a fine specimen we would make don’t you think so ?,” he rambles as he come close to his release

He knew very well you just nodded without thinking much, the thought of cumming inside you, breeding your cunt very hard to not decline

“Ahh you just nodded because you’re cockdrunk, I can’t have you pregnant now, not when I love our meaningless bickering about our difference of opinions, I’ll fuck…you’re not patient but I am fuck…I’m going to make you my fucking research partner my everything I will actually put a ring on that pretty finger of yours and then put a baby in…you’re gonna let me right?,” he mutters as his cock kisses your cervix

His grip your thighs pressing folding you to reach deeper “This is a trial examination, let’s see how deep you could take,” he chuckles as he delves deep into your cunt

All you can do is lie there and moan as he pounds deep into you, making vulgar noises between the sounds of your skin slapping against each other

“Shit I’m gonna cum fuckk,” he whines before pulling out and stroking his cock right against your skin, exactly where your womb is supposed to be “Here let me mark your skin right here, hahah to manifest our future,” he whines as he shoot his seed right against the skin, marking the outside of your womb

“Veri k-kisss,” you mumble as you await for his comfort, he took two more strokes finally finish, then he leans into your lips to give you a reward

“Now I need to clean you up, stay right there and let me run you a warm bath, you must be sore,” he says as he brush his hair back, thank god you both decide to do this at his house or else he can’t properly take care of you

You can’t even think anything anymore, he really did fuck the thought out of you, when you actually start to gather your thoughts you’re already surrounded by the lukewarm water and lavender flowers “Veri where am i?,”

“Ah you finally snapped out of your haze, I carried you to my bath remember ?,” he smiles as he’s currently sitting beside the tub lathering your arm with soap

You could only nod as you slowly succumb back towards the land of dreams “Hey don’t fall asleep on me now you might accidentally drown,” he scoffs

“Your fault for using lavender, it is well known to cure insomnia and to alleviate muscle pain,” you yawn as you try to stay awake

“Yes exactly to alleviate muscle pain, which is going to be you’re future diagnosis if I don’t take care of you properly,” he sighs, you both went back into bickering like a married couple

“To prevent me from accidentally drowning myself in your huge bathtub, why not join me ?, you’re also in need of relaxation,” you mumble, feeling a little bit flustered

“Well if the lady insists,” he smirks before undressing and dipping himself behind you, he drags you into his lap and rests you head your head shoulder as his hands massage your lower back “Feels good ?,” he whispers beside your ear

“Very,” you reply with a sigh, he presses a kiss on your forehead as he holds you massages your tense spot as a silent thank you of some sort, not wanting this moment of peace to end

For you however, you knew this man is forever bound his heart to yours from now on

#☆彡veririnwrites #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio hsr #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio smut

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athenamikaelson · 5 months ago

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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 6

Word Count- 2.2k

Warnings- Swearing, mentions of SA, Elijah being a blushing mess

I’m frozen in fear as I stare at Elijah. Elijah stands at the end of the bed, his hands in his suit pants and a small almost comforting smile on his face. A smile that does not help with getting my racing heart to slow. We continue staring at each other for what feels like forever before Elijah clears his throat, jolting me.

“How are you feeling,” His question has me pinching my eyebrows together.

He must understand the look of confusion as he continues, “Yesterday, at the Salvatore residence,” At the mention of Damon, Elijah's upper lip contorts into a snarl of what I think is disgust, “When I had seen you in that state, I…”

He stops mid-sentence and brings his hand to rub over his face in exhaustion. My memory comes back to me as I remember the blonde wolf and her sickening smile. Instantly I grab the edge of the white comforter and peel it off to see the damage that is my leg, but pause when I see only smooth skin under the specks of dried blood. Unsettled, I sit against the wooden headboard and bring my knees to my chest. I watch the vampire wearily, not understanding why my hurt seems to have caused him such distress.

“Thankfully I was there to heal you before you had lost too much blood,” He goes to sit down at the edge of the bed but halts his movements when he notices me moving closer to the headboard and farther from him. He clears his throat, stands back up to his full height, and inclines his head.

He raises an eyebrow in thought, “Well, in my opinion, any of your blood being spilled is too much.”

Awkward silence fills the room as we watch each other waiting for the other to move or say something. I begin picking at the hem of my shirt when I freeze up. I look down at my body and feel my heart start beating irratitcly as I look at the white dress shirt that has replaced the dress I was wearing yesterday.

“Where is…,” I stop and look up at Elijah in embarrassment who now of all times won’t meet my eyes. Eyes are currently watching his fingers as they fiddle with the silver ring on his middle finger.

“Your dress from yesterday was ruined,” Elijah glances towards me, “When I brought you here you were covered in your blood, and your dress was ripped up, so I just gave you one of my shirts.”

I try not to focus on how nice the expensive fabric feels on my skin, or especially how good it smells. I stare at the shirt for another moment before my mouth goes dry.

“You’re the one who put this on me?”

At my question, Elijah instantly understands what I’m implying as he raises his hands up and shakes them, “No. Well, yes technically. But, I didn’t look anywhere if that’s what you’re asking. I had placed the shirt on over your dress and then was able to rip off your dress. I would never,” He pauses and shakes his head as if the thought of being taken advantage of while I was unconscious is the most disgusting thing he could think of, “I would never want to do something that would make you feel unsafe around me. You have my word on that Y/N.”

I look into his eyes trying to find any sign of deceit but all I see is honesty behind his eyes. I nod slowly at him which seems to make him relax, as he drops his tense shoulders. His eye contact is too intense so I move my eyes to glance around the room. Dark sleek walls surround the king bed I’m in. A simple bureau is posted against the wall behind Elijah and what I believe is an on-suite bathroom resides to my right. It’s nice, expensive definitely, but defiantly not homey. The dark walls, where one would put pictures of family and friends, stand bare and cold.

“Is this your house?”

Elijah sends me a small smile and nods, “It’s not exactly where I’d call home, but it is where I’m residing for my time in Mystic Falls,” He glances around momentarily and then back to me, “What do you think of it?”

I frown at his question, not understanding why he would care about my opinion. But I also don’t understand why he’d rescue me and bring me here in the first place.

“It’s nice I guess,” I shrug my shoulders slightly.

“You guess,” Elijah remarks with a small smirk that makes my stomach flip.

“It’s just not very homey.”

Elijah nods in understanding and his smirk slowly drops for a millisecond, “Well, I must say I haven’t had a home in quite some time,” His gaze trails to me, “I plan to change that very soon though.”

Something in his tone sends a shiver up my spine as I look away from him and back to my hands, “Can I go home now?”

Elijah instantly straightens, “Of course. I would never hold you here if you wanted to leave.”

At his confirmation, I throw the comforter off of me and turn to get off the bed as I go to stand up a sharp pain shoots in my recently wounded leg and makes me fall forward. Before I can hit the ground though a pair of strong arms grip mine and Elijah pulls me up into his embrace. My breath comes out in small spurts as we stare at each other, our faces so close that if I were to lean in a few inches our lips would touch. At that thought I shoot back and my ass lands back on the edge of the bed. Elijah steps back quickly as if he was the one who had done something wrong.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to…” I stop him, “It’s not your fault. Thank you.” I look up at him and send him an appreciative smile. Like yesterday at the tea party Elijah freezes slightly before turning away.

He clears his throat as he faces the wall, “I’ll grab you some pants and then I’ll drive you home.”

Elijah exits the room and I stare down in horror when I realize that my legs are completely bare and this whole time I’ve just been wearing a dress shirt in Elijah’s company. Fuck me.

—-

After Elijah had given me a pair of dark grey sweatpants, he led me outside where his dark sedan was parked, an expensive dark sedan might I add. Everything about this guy screamed wealth. God this guy can probably smell the poor on me. I’m about to open the passenger door when Elijah speeds in front of me and opens it himself. He gestures for me to get in and I nod at him as I lean down and get in.

Elijah gets into the driver’s side and after another moment we’re driving down the road. We both sit in awkward silence as the morning light peaks through the passing trees. I pick at a thread on the sweatpants.

“Are these yours aswell?”

Elijah turns his gaze from the road and towards the pants I’m wearing and he nods, “Yes they are. Is that a problem?”

I quickly shake my head, “No! I just… didn’t think you wore anything other than your suits.”

I quickly bite my lip as I mentally yell at myself for talking out of turn, but thankfully Elijah must’ve found what I said funny as he starts chuckling from his side of the car.

“That is a common misconception I’ve found. But no, I do not sleep in my suits,” He smirks at himself, “Most of the time.”

Did he just try to make a joke?

I look away from him and out the window for another moment trying to fight the question that has been plaguing my mind. But I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut.

“Why?”

Elijah’s eyebrow raises slightly but he doesn’t move his gaze from the road.

“Why what?”

I almost groan in annoyance, “Why save me and bring me here?”

Elijah is quiet for a moment and then runs his fingers over the edge of the steering wheel as he speaks, “I have my reasons. Right now you don’t need to know of them.”

The groan I was holding in slips out making Elijah’s fingers stop their patterning, “Seriously? Like two weeks ago I found out the supernatural exists because I was kidnapped, thank you for that by the way,” I slightly glare at him which earns me a quirk of his eyebrow, “And yesterday I got felt up by some weirdo wolf and then stabbed by his were-bitch friend! So trust me when I say whatever you’re hiding from me can NOT be something that makes me go comatose.”

Elijah’s eerily quiet, and I’ve now realized that I really need to learn how to shut up. Fucking hell he’s going to kill me for speaking to him like that, isn’t he? I’m just like Demon.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”

“What do you mean, “Felt you up,” Elijah’s voice has dropped an octave and my skin crawls at the sound. I look over to him and his fingers have stopped their tracing and are now gripping the steering wheel. With the way his knuckles are turning white, I’m surprised he hasn’t ripped the steering wheel off.

“I’m going to repeat myself one more time Elskan, and I would like an answer,” He doesn’t move his eyes away from the road but his tone is commanding enough for me to do whatever he asks. If he told me to jump out of this moving car I’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Just one of the wolves yesterday, he was the weird-looking one with long hair. He just put his fingers on my chest.”

I watch as Elijah sits there in thought for a moment. He seems to have realized something as he nods to himself, “I remember that one. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

I nod, “Thanks, but I wasn’t too worried about him. From what I remember from yesterday and what I remember hearing it didn’t sound like it ended well for them.”

Elijah nods to himself and my eyebrows furrow as I swear I could see a small smile twitch its way onto his lips.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that anyone who touches another person without their consent deserves to be punished.”

“You’re not wrong about that. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you still haven’t told me why you protected me?”

“I haven’t have I,” Elijah words it as a question but from his tone it’s clear he finds me questioning him amusing, “Well, it appears that’ll be a question for another time.”

I frown confusion but as Elijah shifts the car into park and I look out the window I realize we’re already at my house. Within a moment Elijah sped from his side of the car to mine and opened my door. He reaches down a hand for me to take and I unbuckle my seatbelt. I reach my hand up to take his outstretched one but put mine back down and step out of the car. Elijah takes a step back giving me space, which I appreciate.

I make my way up the walkway to my front door as Elijah walks beside me. Ever the gentleman.

“So you’re not going to tell me why are you?”

Elijah turns his head to look at me as we make it to my front porch. A small smile on his face as he looks down at me, “In time. Patience is a virtue Elskan.”

“A virtue I don’t have,” I grunt.

Elijah chuckles to himself, “I’ve noticed.”

I bend down towards the small potted plant next to my front door and grab the spare key underneath it. Since I left all my belongings in Damon’s house yesterday I’m glad for the spare. I grab the key and go to place it in the door, I stop and turn to Elijah who has been watching my every move. Which appears to be something he does quite often.

“Thank you for protecting me and driving and stuff.”

Elijah smiles down at me, “I might not be telling you everything right at this moment Y/N. But the one thing I will tell you is that I will always protect you. Before anything else. Believe me on this.”

I’m not a very trustworthy person but something in his voice and eyes tells me that just this once I should drop that trait and believe the vampire in front of me.

“Ok.”

“I’ve enjoyed our time together Y/N, even if it was under less than good circumstances.”

I turn over my shoulders to nod at Elijah, “Goodbye Elijah.”

“Until next time Elskan.”

I open the door and step inside locking it behind me. I watch from the window as Elijah walks back to his car and drives away. I sigh out a breath I didn’t think I was holding as I throw myself onto the couch in my living room. Closing my eyes I try to find serenity in the quiet, this lasts for a moment until an unnerving realization jolts me. I had never told Elijah how to get to my house.

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