#mikes arms are v interesting

[fruitbythefoot7]

that moment when u get caught making out w ur not bf instead of doing the chore u signed up for bc of said not bf

[strawhbrrries]

Movement

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread

word count: 2.1k words

author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!

Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.

“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.

“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!��� She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”

You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight. 

“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”

After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed.  The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.

“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.

“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. 

You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time. 

“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”

You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.

“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.

“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.” 

“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.

The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp. 

Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.

“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.

“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”

Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous. 

“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. 

Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it. 

He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have. 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.

“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”

“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words. 

At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced. 

“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”

You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience. 

“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”

“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.

His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.

His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you. 

Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.

“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”

Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.

Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.

��Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.

“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.

His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you. 

“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear. 

His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white. 

“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you. 

“We need to do this more often.”

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her. 

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel. 

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?” 

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.” 

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously. 

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?  

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind. 

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around. 

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all. 

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?” 

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,  and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles. 

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom. 

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time. 

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out. 

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.  

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?” 

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray. 

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

Part 2

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter eight

chapter eight

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel's lies and the creeping winter breed discontent as the raiders wait to find out the fate of the man you bit.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, mention of attempted sexual assault (NOT by joel, very unsuccessful), oral, p in v, discussion of dub-con and I guess mind-control?

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Tommy Miller wasn’t a man of faith. Never really had been, and especially not now, not after the things he’d seen. Couldn’t fathom the thought of any god who’d let the world go to hell, who’d let his niece die in her father’s arms before she even really got to live. 

He doesn’t believe in much, never has, but he’d put all his faith in Joel. Always had. His first steps were toward Joel. His first word was his name. All his life, he’d followed his brother, even as they fell darker and darker into the end of the world. Even as Joel went down a road he thought he’d never have to follow. 

It was all for Tommy, anyway. He couldn’t turn away from the monster Joel became when it was all to keep Tommy alive. So when Joel turned into a literal monster, straight outta the movies they’d stayed up far too late to watch when Tommy was far too little? 

That was nothin’. A no-brainer. Joel was Joel. You don’t turn your back on your brother, even if he turns all hairy and slobbery and weird. 

So if there had been anyone left in the world who knew them, who had seen the Miller brothers grow, they’d have said it was no surprise that the little one refused to give up when things seemed hopeless. 

Inseparable, they’d say. 

After Joel went missing, one year turned into two, and Tommy Miller never gave up on his brother. 

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be found,” Laura said one night over rabbit stew. 

“Nah,” Tommy said, blowing on a spoonful before feeding it to her littlest one — DJ, after her brother, the dead beta — “He wouldn’t have done that to me. If he’s out there, he’s in trouble.”

Laura looked skeptical, but Tess nodded from the other end of the table, wagging her spoon in their direction.

“He’s right. That cranky old bastard mighta given anyone else the slip, but not Tommy.” Tess always sat at the far end, keeping distance between herself and the rambunctious children with razor-sharp teeth. 

“I’m not interested in runnin’ around buck naked, howlin’ at the moon, or dying from a toddler bite,” she’d said. But it didn’t stop her from showing up every new moon for dinner. 

Not more than that, though. She couldn’t bear to see the hope living in Tommy’s heart any more than he could bear to see the pity in her eyes. They all thought Joel was dead. All but Tommy.

“If you’d just turn me,” he tries.

Laura rolls her eyes. “You know it’s not that simple. My bite probably couldn't even turn you. Chances are you’d just... die.” 

“If he dies, I get to shoot her,” Mike says to Cheryl. He’s the other half of the Idiot Twins, you’ve learned. Mike and Randall. Randall’s the one kicking around all pissy in your old cell with the crescent of your teeth debossed in his skin. 

Mike’s the one bitching up and down the hall, shotgun on his shoulder.

Cheryl doesn’t give a shit. She’s only interested in what might happen if Randall doesn’t kick the bucket. 

“The hell you do,” she sneers. “She’s worth too much. Now shut it.”

You’re in the corner on the mattress, Joel’s furry body between you and the door. His hackles haven’t settled, and neither has the tense line of his shoulders. You haven’t spoken since Cheryl came down to watch, but Joel’s kept his eyes on the shotgun the entire time.

You don’t need to talk to know he’s thinking about putting himself between you and a bullet. Your hand finds its way to the thick fur on his neck, weaving gently between tufts. 

It’s not as comforting as it was. 

And oh, he can tell. It hurts. It took him less than a day after your heat ended to start to lose you, and the worst part is that he doesn’t know if he even wants to do what he’d have to, to admit to you that even though he’d never, that he could. He could make you do anything he commanded. 

You’ve been right all this time. Being an omega ain’t fair. He has all the power, and you have all the vulnerability, exposed to him like a wound. Like the one he’s left on your shoulder.

So he’s gotta be the shield, too. The bandage. He’s gonna be the barrier between you and everything that threatens to infect you. Even himself.

Especially himself. 

After the third day passes, the only infection Randall’s gotten from you was the festering bite mark. And really, that wasn’t even from you; that was from locking him in that nasty room with an open wound. That’s kind of on them.

He goes upstairs with Cheryl and never comes back. It’s not just Joel from whom they don’t tolerate disobedience.

Mike sulks but doesn’t try to retaliate. He must be too chicken-shit after seeing what happened to his buddy. They still make him deliver food, but he’s got a new partner now, who doesn’t seem too fond of him. Meal drop-off is a no-nonsense silent affair now, which suits you just fine. 

The difference between you and them has never been clearer. Not just in that you’re the captives, and they’re your captors. Not just in the sickening way they decide if you lived or died.

No. You’re finally seeing it. What they’ve seen all along—the difference between human and something undeniably more.

It’s stark, now. You’re not sure if something changed about you, physically, after your heat, or if it just laid clear the things that changed with the shot. But you can’t pretend anymore, either way. You’re not human. You’re not like them. You never were, really, but now it’s in your goddamn genetic code.

The man wrapped around you is even less of a man, but you think you’re starting to catch up.

He stays resolutely the wolf, but you don’t mind. You haven’t felt much like talking lately, anyway. You’ve gone quiet. It’d be unsettling if you hadn’t sunken to his level of grunts and huffs and whines. 

Why talk when he can’t talk back? Why talk when you already know what he’s saying? When he can understand you better now than ever before?

There’s no need for a charade between you. You’re beasts together. The bite you shared is more of a bridge between you than a bond, but that’s okay. 

Neither one of you were looking to be tied together, anyway. 

The strange, serene silence lasts until the new moon. He doesn’t have much choice, and you’re feeling it, too. The fatigue. The wariness. The loss of security. With the light of the moon in absentia, you’re left undone.

So you put each other back together.

You wake to his hairy face, but it’s human hairy. His coarse salt-and-pepper beard. His morose hazel eyes. 

“Look—” he starts, voice extra gruff from neglect, but you find you’re uninterested in his excuses. 

You kiss him instead, craning your neck to reach his chapped lips, a hand cupping that handsome beard. 

One of his huge hands goes to your waist immediately as he clings to your subject change with relief. 

There’s no trace of heat, now, nor rut. Just you. Just him. His hand, calloused and hot, leaves a trail across your bare skin, achingly gentle. 

You let yourself be coddled, this once. Let him treat you like something precious. Something worth preserving. No claws or fangs, just the warmth of his palm cupping your breast, the heat of his tongue on your nipple. 

A trail of ticklish kisses down your stomach that makes you squirm for more than one reason. When he parts your thighs to make room for himself, it’s as if he’s setting out the fine china. 

Before, he’d always dove in, like seeking the antidote to a snake bite. Eager to gulp down as much of you as fast as he could.

This time, he doesn’t rush. They won’t take him out tonight on the new moon. They’ve given up on making him useful when he's useless. He’s grateful, for once, for his weakness, because it means he can be yours. 

And you? Well. You’re always his. But now he can take his time with you.

His lips brush your thighs, gentle bites with blunt teeth interspersing the worshipful kisses. He presses them to the seam of your cunt, not opening you for him yet, just kissing along your labia and basking in your scent. It’s heady, even when it’s not fragrant with fertility. 

He parts your lips with his tongue. No greedy fingers rend you, just the soft swipe, barely ducking between. He does it, again and again, until he works you wide and waiting. 

A smirk spreads when you gasp at the bump of his nose against your clit, but he doesn’t leave you wanting. He graces it with a tender kiss that leaves you writhing, panting, trying to cant up to meet him. 

He lets you. But he doesn’t let your mewls rush him. He leaves you clit throbbing and drags his attention down to where you weep for him. The noises alone are debauched, echoing in the old shower room, his groans and licks melting into your gasps and cries. 

Your chest aches. It aches with need, with want, yes, but also with a strange sadness. It’s bleeding from him into you. It seems to never leave him, not for a moment, and it drives your hands to his hair, a poor facsimile of the connection you both need and cannot allow yourselves to have. 

It’s enough, though, for now. He’s pleased that he’s pleased you, and doesn’t relent. It’s as much for you as it is for him. He alternates between softly suckling at your clit and licking you clean until he’s drawn two saccharine orgasms from you, leaving you trembling and covered in sweat. 

When he comes back up to meet you, cock resting against your cunt, you take his kiss greedily, and give in. More and more, every moment you’re his, you become wilder. Claimed but not kept. Bound but not burdened. You lick your slick from his beard in a manner more affectionate than arousing. He interrupts, kissing your neck and pushing you down onto the mattress so he can ease his length inside you.

There’s no resistance. You’re soaked and stretched, his thick fingers having reached inside to take his prize from within you. You breathe again once he’s nestled deep within, feeling the pulse and press of him where no man other than him can rightfully claim to have been. 

He rocks his hips, barely pulling out, unwilling to leave the wet heat of you. It’s arduous and delicious, savoring him like this. Feeling the curves and veins of him against your walls, imprinting themselves on you. 

Even now, even fully human, you don’t trouble yourselves with talk. Your ragged breaths fill the room, and he chases your lips for a kiss each time he bottoms out. They’re almost chaste, if only they weren’t so filthy. There’s barely any tongue, and yet, more intense than any you’ve had before. 

You come again as he fills you, spilling deep and letting you both savor the sensation. 

When he pulls out, you shiver. The chill that spreads over you has as much to do with the things left unsaid as it does with the cold basement. You only have the one bra to wear, after all. He tucks the little blanket around you, but it’s a lost cause. 

Neither of you are sure that you want his body heat, with the way things have frosted over after your parting. He waits, eyes closed, until he feels you curl up to him. 

Once you’re tucked into the crook of his arm, his leg slung over you, you finally say it. The two words that have been ricocheting around in your brain since that day.

“You lied,” you whisper to his chest. It stutters as he slips on a breath.

“I did,” he agrees after a long, long moment.

“To me,” you clarify. 

“Yes.”

It’s heavy. It’s loud. Much louder than reality, where it’s whispered, but in your head, it falls with a flat thump.

“You were already scared. I didn’t want to scare ya more,” he says. It doesn’t come out like an excuse. It’s not defensive. It’s just a fact.

Maybe he didn’t mean it as such, but that’s how you take it. You were scared. You were terrified. 

“I don’t care,” you decide. “That’s not how this is gonna work. We’re—we’re stuck together for now whether we like it or not ,and you are not going to decide what I can or can’t handle.” You poke him in the chest with the finger you were inadvertently waggling.

For now? Oh, sweetheart, he thinks, gut aching at your—he suspects—willful naivety. He raises both hands in supplication.

“Alright, darlin’,” he capitulates, gruffer than he means to. 

The way he gives in without a fight but also without an apology stings, but you resolve to lick your wounds later when you’re not itching for a fight. 

“And you better explain. Now. No runnin’.” 

He puts his arms down, and they melt into a slump of a heavy sigh. “I don’ know much. I never do. You ask me all these damn questions when I’ve told you —”

“Stop deflectin’ and fess the fuck up, Joel,” you snap.

He glowers for a moment before sitting up a little to lean against the frigid tile wall. “I suppose…” but he just sighs again.

But you sit up, criss-cross applesauce with the blanket around your lap. And you wait. You’re pretty sure he’ll talk, given his own time to do it. Where your mind never seems to settle, his seems to take a while to boot up. He isn’t stupid by any means; he just needs a minute to organize what he’s trying to explain. 

You’re rewarded for scraping up what was left of your patience when he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t know much. That ain’t ever gonna change. But this was somethin’ I learned from the widow o’ the man that bit me.”

“Ew, wait, you actually got bitten?” 

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Look, don’ worry about that. I keep forgettin’ you were one o’ the experiments.”

You gape at him for a moment. “Eugh,” you shudder. “Fuck, I hate that. Experiment. Damn.”

He gives a little ‘well?’ with the splay of his palms to the sky and watches you with eyes of lead. “Look,” he sighs again. 

You imagine a drinking game involving his sigh count would send you to a swift and shallow grave.

“Y’ain’t gonna like it, but it’s true. To some extent, omegas seem to be… more inclined to listen to an alpha if the alpha talks with a certain tone of voice. S’hard to explain.”

“You’ve done it before,” you guess. “Not just to me.”

“No,” he sighs, and in an imaginary alternate universe, you die of liver poisoning, “not just to you.”

And he tells you of the early days with Laura. When the change first started, and he couldn’t sleep, thinkin’ he might hurt somebody. Somebody that didn’t deserve it. 

“And she told me that Peter would drop his voice into this kind of… register, and he would talk her to sleep. Except one night he was tired himself and didn’t have the energy. So all he said to her was ‘go to sleep.’ And she did.”

“That’s… fucking horrible,” you say. “Not their cutesy couple-y stuff. The… Jesus, the implications of that kind of…” 

Suddenly, you look down at the blanket, picking with the jagged tip of your bitten fingernail at where the ancient fleece was pilling. 

“You, um…” but the words get caught in your chest where someone has tightened a belt, cutting off all connection to the rest of your body, leaving it cold. A thousand logical, reasonable thoughts traverse your conflicted brain. You don’t know him. He’s got a darkness to him. He kills on the regular to keep himself alive. You don’t know him.

But you don’t think he’s the type of man to have done something quite like that. And he’s been nothing but gentle with you, really. Too gentle, like he thought the lightest touch of a claw might split you like a plump plum, skin stretching and giving way for him to flay the flesh underneath. 

You’re made of tougher stuff than that. Mostly. Kind of. In a way.

Oh, damnit. 

“What did you use it on me for?” you say instead. 

His teeth grind at what you almost asked. He figures you were afraid to piss him off by asking. Or afraid for him to lie to your face again. He should be insulted that you’d even consider the possibility that he violated you. 

He reminds himself that you don’t know him. He’s bigger than you, stronger. And he’s just told you he can more or less hypnotize you. 

Shit, this is a right hell of a mess.

You both sigh this time, and you’ve already forgotten your imaginary drinking game self’s corpse. You can feel it this time. The weariness. How it soaks into the marrow and flushes everything out. 

“You need to understand,” he starts seriously. His brows are pinched and eyes narrowed, pitching a sturdy fence around his too-fragile self. “I did not do anything…unsavory. And I didn’t even mean to do it to ya in the first place.”

He scrubs a hand over his face again, and it’s ruddy when he pulls away. “It was durin’ your heat, okay? It wasn’t even anything serious; I just told you to listen to me, and you did. And I…” he grunts and looks away.

You think maybe all this time alone made him forget how to say sorry. 

You’re not sure what you’d do with it anyway.   

So instead, you close your eyes and take a deep breath in your nose and out of your mouth. You think vaguely about being nauseous or anxious or infuriated. You indulge in the fantasy of getting truly angry, of letting yourself feel the injustice of it all, the horror.

You entertain thoughts of screams of rage, of violence, of throwing and breaking and banging your fists against the wall, of wrapping your hands around Jim’s throat, of driving yourself mad and bloody in a frenzy for freedom.

The thoughts hurt as much as they help. You take the rage and prod at it until it hides back behind your ribs where it belongs. 

He leans forward, now, elbows on his knees. It’s hard not to be distracted by his dick, but also, you always feel guilty when you ogle it. It’s not his fault he’s been denied of any privacy or dignity. And plus, you’ve been walking around, pussy out, since your heat.

Thinking about that too much makes you sick. 

He sighs again but you feel like maybe this one cost him something more. He sits up straight and puts his hands on your shoulders. “I can’t promise it won’t happen by accident,” he says solemnly.

You chew on it for a while, climbing into his lap and pulling the blanket over yours. He’s trying, and you’re having a hard time staying mad, especially when he’s warm and comfortable.

His arms loop loosely around you, unconsciously rubbing his thumbs against your bare skin. It’s soothing, but you suspect it’s even more soothing for him. 

Your head finds its place in the crook of his shoulder, and it’s your turn again to sigh. “You think maybe I could learn to resist it?” 

He startles a little, looking down at you incredulously. No, looking down at you like you’re something incredible. That’s worse, maybe, because it makes you squirm away from his (albeit minimal) idolatry. 

“Maybe. I don’t know enough about it. But would you even want to try? It would mean me havin’ to…”

“I dunno,” you admit. “Might be worth it. I’ll… I’m gonna think about it.”

He takes what he can take and presses a kiss to the top of your head, a compulsion that’s rapidly becoming habitual. 

Not that either of you are complaining. 

When you think of it again later, in the dead of night, Joel sawing lumber while half-sprawled on the floor, it settles like cement in your lungs. 

He settles like cement in your lungs. Something neither your mind nor body can ignore. And maybe it’s the bond, but you know there’s no chipping him out of there. Not completely. This strange man, who isn’t so strange these days, has instead become something of a warm knit cardigan or a rail on a slippery stair. 

Maybe you don’t need him.

Maybe you’d get by without him.

But, well. You’re better off with him than without. 

Time in your little cell passes all at once and not at all. Winter creeps in, and the basement becomes nearly unbearably cold. You watch jealously as Joel retreats to his built-in jacket, and as much as he tries to be your personal furnace, it only goes so far.

And the full moon comes, and brings a blizzard with it. 

You think maybe they won’t go out, but Jim’s got a particular target in mind nearby that he demands retribution from. And no silly snowstorm is going to stop him.

They take him from you at nightfall, and he watches you shiver as he leaves.

It must be Christmas, because he comes back with a gift.

You honest to god gasp when he shows you his prize. “Thanks, Santa!” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“Arms up,” he says, and you let him have this. You think the wolf must be going out of his mind with possessiveness, and you’re right because he can barely stay only partially transformed. He struggles not to give in to the change, fighting his own instincts and the moon just so he can talk to you.

You don’t say it, but that almost means more than the gift.

You close your eyes as he tugs the ratty sweater over you, either oversized or from a very large man. It fits like a dress, though a very short one. But it means your ass isn’t hanging out, and you’ve got another layer between your poor freezing tits and the breeze that whispers through the rotting grout. 

“Joel, how—”

But he cuts you off. “Don’t ask me, darlin’. You don’t wanna know.” He’s a little tender but a little sharp, too.

“But where—“

“I said don’t ask me that,” he snarls. “Do not fucking ask me that.” He sees the look on your face and softens. “Please.” It’s a whisper, and oh, it hurts. 

You don’t have to ask. You know, now. What it cost him. What it cost someone else. “Thank you, alpha,” you murmur. It has the usual effect, his eyes shining a little brighter as you play with the wolf and let the man be. 

He pulls you against his chest and rubs his chin on the top of your head, soothing the unease in his sternum. “It fucking stinks, though. Gonna have to figure somethin’ out.”

You wrinkle your nose. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s not me,” he grunts, and you take the cue to shut up. 

“Atta girl,” he murmurs after a few minutes of silence. “Looks real nice,” he adds and preens when the compliment sends you shyly snuffling your face into his chest. 

You let him hold you there as he scents you, bafflingly large palms smoothing over your neck and rubbing your arms. His musk envelopes you as much as his broad body does, and you keep your cheek pressed against the soft quilt of hair across his chest. When he’s mostly wolf like this, he’s practically covered in it. His soft, strong arms are dark with it; his chest is buried beneath it; it even trails across the plush pouch of his stomach. 

When he’s done proverbially bathing you in him, he steps back, cheeks ruddy and dark eyes anywhere but you. He clears his throat but says nothing. 

You observe him, this forsaken beast of a man. This creature from children’s nightmares, this creature who definitely just gave adults nightmares, but who would put himself between you and your own. 

You close the gap between you, your hand on his chest, another finding its way to his cheek. His eyes stutter and fall closed, only the tiniest sigh escaping him now. A shuddering thing full of far too much for one man, whether he’s actually a man or a beast. 

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper, as if you could ease his aches with your gratitude. As if you could take on some of his pain for your own. 

He kisses you like he knows you’d try.

[alwaysformike]

can i request where reader and michael are in rome in 1988 for the bad tour and they go to a museum on a little date and end up getting a little riled up in public because of michael's tedious tour schedule that prevents them from having any "sex time"?

ִֶָ𓏲࣪ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄 🫐༉‧

in which tedious tour schedules force sweet sighs of bliss to fill the sound of people-filled museums.

content warnings: public sex, fingering, p in v, fem! reader, MICHAEL BEING SO SEXY???!

my first request omg??!!! 😣 okay anyways enjoy mls

THE SPRINGTIME AIR OF MAY FILLS YOUR NOSE, DRENCHING YOU IN A WARMTH NEVER FELT BEFORE. Cars zoom past, blowing your hair into your face. Your hand, wrapped thinly around your lover, squeezes.

You are glad people in Rome know how to mind their business, save for the couple of people that clearly don’t get the memo; you and Michael are alone for a reason.

Though, you will admit, you couldn't be sure if the feeling of eyes staring at you in every direction were any better than the constant clicking of paparazzi cameras.

"Well, my love, where to next?" The voice rings through your ears, sending that funny feeling to your tummy again. You blush slightly, ducking your head.

You and the former Jackson 5 member are out for a day on the town, exploring all there is to see in Rome. This, you think, may be the best part of Michael's fame; being able to tour the world with your love.

"Hm," you hum. Of course, it had its downsides, like the schedule that made it almost impossible to see him. "I heard there is a museum just a way down, perhaps we could go there?"

He grins down at you. "The fact you think you even have to ask is blasphemy."

There it was again, that fluttering feeling in your stomach that just would not go away. The two of you make your way down to the Museum, hands still interlinked like chains.

As you walk, it is impossible not to stare at him. Him, with his curly black hair fanning around his face. Him, with his dark eye's cautiously observing as you two cross the street.

It is a crime that you have became so lucky, a sin that he has ended up with you of all people. Because, truly, he was a piece of art that deserved to be in the Museum. Him, with his sharp and chiseled jaw, his lanky but tall figure, his long seductive fingers.

Him.

It is so unfair, the way he floats so gracefully, dancing around with a small quirk of his lips. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Michael." You whisper feebly. The museum was just up ahead, you could see the line following out through door.

"Hm?" He half-heartedly answers. His attention is on moving you through the crowd of people and into the Museum. No lady should stand in line for that long especially not his.

Your throat goes dry and suddenly words have escaped from your list of skills. Your brain, fuzzy and now blank. He pauses in his step, waiting for you to say something. Michael turns, looking at you . Your eyes are staring up at him, those big round eyes that could have any soldier fall to his knees and retreat in seconds.

He was the soldier and the heart was his battlefield.

"Doll?" He questions. It is unlike you to be so quiet, typically yapping about anything that remotely catches your interest.

Your breath hitches. You two are now inside the Museum, statues and paintings lining each wall. "Mike," you whisper. "Something is wrong."

It does not take more than a millisecond for Michael to have you in his arms, hugging you tightly. He cannot help but to worry. "Has something upset you, is the museum too small, was the line too long?" He is throwing questions after questions to you.

Your brain is still fuzzy and woozy, but you mange to peep from his arms and stare deep into his onyx eyes. "Michael, listen. Something is wrong with me."

That does not help. You are back in his thick arms once more, and he is questioning you again. You peel from his arms one last time. You glance up at him, then to his long and vein-covered fingers. Had he always been so sexy? Stupid question, of course he had.

There was something about not seeing him for weeks on end unless it was on stage that made you so feral, so weak in the knees. If it was possible, he looked so much more handsome. Small eyebags rested underneath his eyes but it did not take from his beauty, only added.

You realize now that you sre utterly fucked.

"Michael. Bathroom." You croak, nodding towards the restroom. In seconds the two of you are shoving into the family one and the door is locked behind you.

Michael is frowning, but you can tell he is slowly starting to understand your dilemma. "Need you," you whine out. A smirk unravels onto his face.

"Oh," he nods in understanding. "This is what had my pretty girl all worked up." You agree desperately, hands roaming his t-shirt covered chest.

His fingers wrap around your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the sink. Within seconds his lips are hungrily fighting yours. They dance, a tango of dangerous lust. His hand comes up to hold your jaw, forcing your mouth open so his tounge can slide into your mouth.

You grunt into the kiss. He pauses, pulling away. "Patience, love." You whimper at that, grinding onto the sink.

You would look back and cringe at that, you were sure, but for now, you were desperate. So utterly desperate for anything. You can feel a pool begin to clog your lacy panties. His fingers wander down, they are snakes that slither their way to your garden of eden. Your breath comes out in panted huffs as the snakes constrict your thighs, squeezing with a pain so lustful.

"Michael." You beg. "Please."

"Well, if you insist." He rolls his eyes, bringing his breath closer to your heat. In seconds, the snakes that were once his hands is now his tongue, twisting and twirling around your aroused clit.

You moan, hips rolling against his face. Your hands are white from gripping the sink. He pulls away lustfully and you whine. "Not enough."

He frowns, wiping his face off. "You really are the prettiest idiot, hm, doll? You really think i'm that cruel as to leave my sweet baby so needy, all alone?"

Your doe-eyes peak up at him, and they shine with words you will not say; "but mike, you would do that."

Michael Jackson was infamous for teasing. It'd be no surprise for him to leave you in the dust once again. But after weeks, almost months, of barely seeing him, you know he needs it just as bad as you do.

His mouth is back on you now, and its twisting and twirling everywhere you need. He sucks on your clit, holding there for a couple seconds. Your voice is resonating through the restroom, and reaches it's peak when he pinches your clit with his long fingers.

It hurts so good, and you whimper once again when he pulls away. He chuckles cruelly, turning you into the sink so you can see your fucked out face. Your pigtail braids with bows, now messily drenched with sweat.

"Mike, hurry." You whine.

"God," he groans, unbuckling his fancy pants. "You're so fucking needy. My little needy girl."

He's shoving inside you in a mere second, no room for preparation. It hurts, his thick and veined cock just being pushed into you; though, you don't wuite mind.

Your pretty eyes roll back. Hes moaning into your ear and it's all too much—not seeing him, being so public, your smeared lipstick from all the smooching.

Pleasure hits you like a wave on the ocean, your toes curling in your pretty little mary-janes, hands white from gripping the sink. You feel your orgasm push over you and he presses your cheek into the mirror, letting you watch how his hips snap vigorously into you.

The raw and slutty sound of him over-stimulating you until he finally releases with a grunt is overpowering.

You spend a couple minutes cleaning up. "So good for me, lady-bug. Good girl." He whispers to you sensually, his big hand cupping your cheek.

The two of you exit, eyes widening as the sight of a line fills your vision. A woman is in front of you, her face pulled back in both anger and digust.

"Get a room!" She mutters. As you two walk away, giggling, she yells again. "And not the restroom!"

You and Michael make eye-contact, giggling once again and continuing on your museum date—though you spend the rest of it limping—.

masterlist

[boom-butterflyeffect]

FUCK I accidentally fucked up my Chris post and the ask got deleted, but HERE'S THAT

Chris Hartley NSFW Alphabet

A - Aftercare

What. A. Sweetheart. Chris makes sure you're all comfortable and taken care of, double checks everything, and absolutely showers you with attention and affection.

B - Body Part (His favourite body part on himself and you)

Tbh, I think hands for both. He loves how big and strong his hands are, and how, in comparison, yours are smaller. He thinks it's adorable. He loves holding your hands.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Chris loves the expressions and sounds you make when you cum, makes him feel like he's doing a good job.

D - Dirty Secret

He would be embarrassed and secretive about the fact that he has dirty fantasies about you.

E - Experience (How experienced he is)

I don't imagine him having a LOT of experience considering he's canonically considered the "nerd" of the group, but I don't think he'd be a total virgin either. I'm not sure.

F - Favorite position

I feel like he'd enjoy missionary or having you in his lap, your chests pressed together and just giving each other sweet kisses.

G - Goofy (Is he more serious in the moment?)

He's so silly, and will try to keep the mood light. Being too serious makes him feel a bit nervous/tense, so it's nice to joke around and feel relaxed, just having a good time!

H - Hair

It's fairly cleaned up, maybe just a little blond happy trail.

I - Intimacy

He's very intimate and romantic, and would want every time to be special and meaningful. He wants it all to be perfect, and gets nervous about the idea of things going wrong.

J - Jack off

I feel like he would not do it himself as often, but would REALLY like it when YOU jack him off.

K - Kink

Size difference!!! Bro is TALL!!!

L - Location

I feel like Chris would be more private, and keep sexual activity in the bedroom, maybe on the couch when it's just the two of you.

M - Motivation

Same as Mike, seeing you in his clothes, especially because of how much taller he is.

N - No (Hard limits)

Anything that could at all hurt you. Again, same as Mike, I feel like he wouldn't be too interested in anything on the more extreme side of kink.

O - Oral

More of a giver than a receiver, very much a service top who loves to know that you're feeling good.

P - Pace

I think he'd be more slow and gentle, taking his time and making sure everything is comfortable and feeling good.

Q - Quickie

I can't imagine Chris being a fan of quickies, I feel like sex is a lot about the intimacy for him, and quickies don't have that emotional aspect that he craves from it.

R - Risk

Not a lot of risk, Chris likes to keep things sweet and intimate.

S - Stamina

I do like the idea of like- lazy cuddle sex, I can't see him being like super riled up and going for ages.

T - Toys

I couldn't imagine Chris owning or using toys, tbh.

U - Unfair

He's a sweetheart and I stand by that. He jokes around and will playfully tease, or suggest the idea of teasing, but at the end of the day, making you feel good and making sure you both enjoy yourselves is his top priority.

V - Volume

He tries to stay quiet, you can usually just hear him panting and the occasional curse or whine under his breath.

W - Wild card (Random NSFW HC of my choosing)

He LOVES when you're on top of him, controlling the pace. He kinda likes the idea of giving you control, because then he knows whatever you're doing is feeling good, and he trusts you to make him feel good too.

X - X-ray (Size)

Again, like 7.5/8 inches, I do not really know what is realistic here, tbh.

Y - Yearning

I think he would not be as pent up as the others, but some days would just really crave the intimacy and the romance of it all, just wanting you in his arms.

Z - Zzz

He'd stay up and take care of you until YOU fall asleep first, giving you little forehead kisses and just cuddling and making sure you're comfortable, and that everything he did was okay and felt good, and he'd just whisper to you how beautiful you are. Only once you're asleep and he knows you feel happy and content, will he fall asleep.

THATS IT THANKS

thank you @z0mb1epuzzy helping me w these because it's 2 in the morning and i've been sat here staring at my phone like a fucking lemon trying to come up with this stuff

THE PERSON WHO SENT THE ASK FOR MATT, YOURS WILL BE NEXT!

[unikhroma]

[updated: 4/20, clarified where you can contact me because whoopsie i forgot + updated TOS link]

do you wanna see your oc or favorite character spin to win? wanna have it as a discord emoji or a stream decoration thing? well look no further!

the price is complexity/size based; so far the average commission has been $12

i can do furries, humans, animals, characters w armor or mechs (it'll be simplified due to 🤏🏼 size), and characters w gore and/or horror elements. so most characters i guess

these will be paid through ko-fi! be sure to read my TOS also! they'll be unwatermarked unlike my regular stuff and sent in both original and larger sizes. if you're interested, send a message here or on toyhouse!

below is a list of credits for the ocs in the ad + how much each example would cost with an explanation for the price so you have an idea of how much a prospective comm would cost

i'm shortening the non-oc character names because i don't want people getting mad at me for this showing up in several character tags due to tumblr's search function working the way it does

first row

spamt - $9 - he is So small.

swa - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

queen - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

roux - $9 - v simple design + only two colors

tama - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

second row

mike - $9 - he is So small.

tenna - $12 - semi-detailed design, but smaller size

host - $15 - detailed design + decent sprite size

(these 3 ocs are owned by @ne0nwithazero)

malnourished swatch neo (@hawkfoolery) - $18 - the strings and large wings combo makes this one complex

third row

emmy (@emmybeebs-art) - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

dimen - $12 - simple-ish design, but it's challenging to translate a character that's designed to be 2d only into 3d

o' - $18 - big sprite + his arms are weird to interpret in 3d space especially for a turnaround

[alienintrees]

Overanalysing a shot from Boring

Sooo at 16:42 in the episode Boring, while the gang are walking to the pub and Madness' House of Fun is playing, there's a nod to Abbey Road with a shot where they walk across a zebra crossing in single file. I'm. I. I just love the Beatles i love them so much i have to talk abt this i just. i don't know if the order was intentional but i can definitely see reasons why would they put them in that order.

So, on the cover of Abbey Road, the order goes George, Paul, Ringo, John and in the episode, the order is Neil, Rik, Mike, Vyvyan

first of all, Vyvyan and John- Both are arguably the most recognisable member of their group, have the best fashion sense (imo) and are very aggressive in their actions and sense of humour.

Mike and Ringo- both are the shortest and oldest member of their group.

Rik and Paul- I'd argue are the 2nd most recognisable members of their group. Liked to think they're the leader of their group. Both are vegetarians. I can't really think of that many similarities between them. other than those, they're quite different. Paul's definitely a lot nicer than Rik. Also little visual detail that I like was included, Rik's holding a cigarette, which Paul also was on the album cover.

Neil and George - Both showed interest in Hinduism and both played guitar. I think both are wearing flares? both tend to get ignored a lot. With Neil, it's more malicious but with George I think it's just that people tend to focus on John and Paul's music more.

Also at the start of Sick, they reference Twist and Shout which is v cool. The order is different in that episode, and I don't think there's a link to the corresponding Beatles' personalities in that other than maybe Paul and Neil.

edit: also!! didn't notice this at first but their arms are all in pretty similar places to the corresponding Beatles. v cool.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Making a mess of Mikey

Masterlist

A/N: I once vowed I would never write this. I swore I couldn't see sub!Mikey, and I didn't like him. And then this happened. I'm giving special credit to @geralts-yenn for making me think about cheering a very sad Mikey up, and then @ellethespaceunicorn for being awesome and having a whole ass conversation with me about turning this sweet boy into a whimpering little mess and... Somehow we got to this point, where we're... pegging Mike. I guess. As a process, it doesn't really make sense to me, either, but have some smuts.

Pairing: bi!sub!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader x Black!ofc (Aneesa)

Summary: Mike is a little down in the dumps after a breakup, and you and your girlfriend try something to cheer him up that turns into a fun experiment.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. Light sub/Domme dynamic (s/D/D, mayhaps), fingering (m receiving), oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex, pegging (so: anal penetration, m receiving), creampie eating, very light spanking, dirty talk, some nicknames (baby, good boy, slut, whore, stuff like that), implied-ish praise kink, handcuffs, degradation kink.

I think I got them all. HMU if I missed any!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

You’ve never seen him like this. Sure, he’s been knocked on his ass by a breakup before, but he usually solves that by knocking back a few beers. And some shots. And some more shots. And finally some drunk hook-up as a rebound. There have been guys. Because he’s Mike, and he isn’t picky. But this... You’ve never seen this... He’s in bed – at least half naked – and he’s not moving, his phone is blasting what '10 things I hate about you’ so eloquently described as ‘angry girl music of the indie rock persuasion’, and he doesn’t respond to whatever you throw at him.

“Well, he’s a goner,” your girlfriend Aneesa concludes after poking at his shoulder for a bit and getting no reaction. “Hey, Mikey, psst!” Waving a hand in front of him doesn’t work, either.

“I know something that might get his attention,” you purr into her ear. A wide grin appears on her face, and you can tell she’s thinking what you’re thinking. You both crawl onto his bed – which still doesn’t get you any kind of reaction – and lean in to kiss each other.

Let the records show that Mike has never asked you for this. Ever. And that’s precisely why this feels more than just fine. This. Sitting on your knees on Mikey’s bed. Holding Aneesa as close as possible. Kissing each other softly, still hoping to pique Mike’s interest enough to get any kind of reaction out of him.

“This is not fair,” Mike groans. He has moved into a slightly curled up position, giving you a little more space to move.

“Hey, he’s alive!” your girlfriend says as she drops down on the bed next to him, leaving you sitting at the foot of the bed on your own. “Anything we can do to make you feel better?”

“You were managing just fine,” Mike says as he smiles apologetically. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mikey,” you chuckle as you drop yourself on top of him. “We were doing that on purpose.”

“Why does it turn guys on so much to watch two girls make out?” Aneesa wonders out loud.

Mike laughs. “Making out is hot? If you’d been guys, I would have asked to join you.”

“But not us?” you tease as you stroke a stray curl out of Mike’s face.

“I mean...” he stammers, “you’re both very attractive. Smart. Funny. Good friends. I love you guys to bits... I’d be lying if I said it had never crossed my mind...”

“So, we’re here now,” she continues your teasing, “what’s the holdup?”

“I, eh... I’ve never...”

“Had a threesome before?” you suggest.

Now, Mike laughs louder. “Not with two chicks, no.” It’s not entirely the answer you expected, but it’s not surprising, either.

“So...” Neese starts, wiggling closer to Mike. She’s curious, you can tell. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in.

“I ended up in an all-guys thing once, that was nice,” he says casually, “and me and my first college roommate double-teamed his girlfriend a few times in freshman year. Also very nice.”

“But never this, huh?” she asks as you move up to softly kiss Mikey’s neck and ear.

“Are you asking me if this is the first time your girl sticks her tongue in my ear? Because in that case: nope,” he laughs. “Well... I mean, last time she did it she wasn’t your girl yet, but...”

“The two of you slept together?” she says – her surprise is mostly aimed at you.

“I told you. Mikey and I are very close,” you say as you shrug. You never really considered it a big deal. “So, gonna let us take care of you?”

He turns to Aneesa. “Are you into this?”

“Like I wouldn’t’ve dragged her ass out of this bed if I wasn’t,” she answers. You smile, knowing she wouldn’t have agreed to make out with you in the first place if she hadn’t been just as okay taking things further. When she first met him, the words she used to describe him afterwards were something along the lines of ‘girl, he is fine as fuck’, and you have to agree. He’s a very good looking guy, and a good friend. And he punches those dudes who offer to buy you drinks if you make out with Neese in front of them. Yes, that’s happened. More than once.

“Mikey...” you say as you run a hand down his side, pushing the blanket down as you go, until it’s resting dangerously low on his hip, “are you naked?”

“Yep,” he smirks, “you two need to get with the program.” Fine, if he wants you out of your clothes... You reach for Aneesa, pulling her along as you get back on your knees at the foot of the bed.

“No!” Mikey whines. “Don’t leave me. I wanna help!” He scrambles to his knees too, the covers falling away. He wasn’t kidding; he is completely naked. And completely gorgeous. You watch Aneesa as she takes him in. She likes what she sees, for sure.

“Nice dick,” she comments dryly.

He responds with a grin. “Thanks, it’s really starved for attention right now.” He’s so cute when he sounds hopeful...

“How about you sit back and do something about that while we take our clothes off and make it look pretty for you?” you offer, but to your surprise, he shakes his head.

“I’m not going to sit back while you unpack a pair of brand new tiddies for me.” When Mike smiles, the world always seems a little brighter, and a little sillier. “Let me help.” One eager hand reaches for Aneesa, another for you, and he pulls you both closer to him effortlessly. You and Neese look at each other, a devious glint in your eyes telling you exactly what it is you’re going to do next.  

You both make quick work of your shirts, and Mike’s eyes go wide.

“Ooh, pretty bra.” The grin on his face is so completely stupid that you can barely stop yourself from laughing. “Ooh, no bra...” He keeps looking, moving back and forth between you and Aneesa, but he doesn’t make any other moves.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you tease lightly.

“Eh... The logistics... Four boobies, two hands, one mouth. The math doesn’t work,” he laughs. Fuck, he’s so cute... You see Aneesa laugh, too, before she pulls him in.

“Come here, baby,” she chuckles before kissing him. For a few blissful minutes, you get to enjoy watching Mikey make out with your girl. It’s hot, so insanely hot to watch them, tongues tangling, mouths sliding, teeth biting into soft, plump lips. Your hand moves between your legs as if by magic, fingers tightly circling your clit while mentally urging Mike to keep going as his face makes its way down towards Aneesa’s chest. You moan as watch him eagerly sucking and nibbling on her nipples. Her boobs look smaller in his hands than they do in yours, but there’s plenty to hold on to nonetheless.

“Fuck, these tiddies are perfect,” Mike moans against Aneesa’s skin. “All of you is perfect. Hell, both of you are.” You hear the need in his voice and decide to pay a little attention to his cock. It’s big, thick, hard and the tip is an angry red that proves what Mike said about it being starved for attention hadn’t been a complete lie.

“Mike, get on your back,” you blurt out, barely able to keep yourself from reaching out to grab his dick.

“Okay,” he replies immediately, leaving Aneesa alone and doing as you told him. You let your eyes wander over his body. God, he’s so fucking gorgeous. It’s the earring in his left ear, and the small tattoo of an upside down cross you know he has behind his right, the nipple piercings, the fact that he has an R tattooed on his right hand and an L on his left... You absentmindedly stroke the tiny patch of black ink on his left hipbone. The letters are small, the lines are clean, the contrast of the ink against his skin is big enough to be able to tell there’s something there from a distance, but you can only read it up close: ‘slut’. It’s a good tattoo, despite what it says. Maybe because of what it says... He got it done on a dare years ago, and at first you were genuinely surprised he never got it covered up, but he swears it’s his favorite.

“Hmm, I like that,” Aneesa moans as she looks at the same place you have your eyes on, “you are a dirty little slut, aintcha, baby?” The way he smirks and eagerly nods in response to her question makes your pussy throb.

“I’m pretty sure we can do whatever we want with him,” you say coyly as you nod towards the restraints that are attached to the bars of the headboard.

“You want to tie him up?” Neese catches on to your little game and excitedly bites her lip. She doesn’t get to play this part often, because it’s yours, but she does have a certain aptitude for it. “But he’s being such a good boy.”

And like a good boy, he doesn’t complain when you fasten the wide leather cuffs around his wrists. In fact, he seems perfectly content shackled to his bed while four curious hands explore his body. Soon, it’s not just hands, but your lips that are all over him, too, until he’s squirming and moaning, begging you for more.

You’re the first to lick the length of his cock, and Aneesa repeats your move – a game you continue until you end up practically making out with her, except the tip of Mikey’s cock is caught in the middle of the action. Every time Mike looks down at the two of you, he whines softly, letting you know he’s enjoying the view. A lot.

“Hey babe, have you ever wondered what happens when you stick a finger up a guy’s ass?” you ask, watching Mike’s face closely as you say the words.

“Not really,” Aneesa says with a gentle chuckle to her voice.

“Well, the ones who like it look something like that.” You nod towards Mike, and she turns her head with a big smile on her face, paying close attention to the way his expression changes as you slowly and gently push your finger past the tight ring of muscle. “God, I wish I’d brought my strap.”

“By all means,” Mike moans, “use mine.”

You nod towards Mike’s bedside table and instruct Aneesa to grab you some lube. Mike immediately adds that she should feel free to grab whatever else she would like to play with. That comment doesn’t prepare her in the least for the contents of that nightstand – and you know that doesn’t even contain Mikey’s entire toy collection, which is quite extensive. It all started with a satiny blindfold as a gag gift from his friends – at the time – for his seventeenth birthday. Now, not even ten years later, he pretty much owns the contents of a whole sex shop.

After some final instructions – because you casually forgot that Mike owns more different kinds of lube than most people do toys in general – Aneesa tosses you the right bottle. Mike moves around impatiently, pulling his knees up a little to give you more space and easier access. He bites his lip in anticipation, big blue eyes begging you for more. Who can say no to that face? Not you, that’s for sure. At the same time, Neese is still digging through the contents of the drawers in search of something that piques her interest. You are so preoccupied with Mike’s face that you miss the point where she finds something that does seem interesting to her, so it takes a while before you notice what she’s holding.

“Curious?” Mike asks her suddenly, startling her so much she drops the box. You get back at him a little by pulling your finger out again, and smile as you watch him whine softly. He looks so sad you almost feel guilty, but you also know he will get everything he wants in just a short moment. You pour some lube on your fingers and continue your work, making sure to coat your fingers in the slippery substance before you slide one back into his now slick little hole, holding your other hand out to retrieve the set of butt plugs from Aneesa. Stainless steel, with a crystal base. His philosophy: if you’re at the point where you’re sticking stuff up your ass, you’re way past low-key, anyway.

“What happened to my Valentine’s gift, baby?” you coo as you pump your finger into him, making him moan softly.

“I still have it,” he replies, “still love it. It’s comfy.” The gift in question is a silicone plug with a heart-shaped base that reads ‘fuck me’, that you got him one year when you were hooking up on the regular. For whatever reason, you’re very happy he still uses it… A few absentminded strokes past Mikey’s prostate make him moan so deliciously that you lose your train of thought.

“More,” he whimpers. God, he sounds cute, but if he doesn’t mind his manners… A swift spank on his ass takes care of that. Fuck, he’s cute when he cries out, too…

“I’m sorry. Please give me more, please!” A second finger slips in almost as easily as the first, and when you don’t wait too long to add a third, Mike smiles and lets out a deep sigh. Aneesa is still sitting on her knees next to the bed, watching you, and more importantly: watching Mike as he slowly melts into a puddle of desperate need in your hands.

“Babe? Neese, you okay?” you check in. It doesn’t look like she has a problem with the scene in front of her – quite the opposite, in fact – but it never hurts to confirm those suspicions.

“Yeah,” she answers, seemingly breathless, “he’s so beautiful.” She tentatively reaches out a hand, gently scrapes her fingernails over the skin of his side. It makes him hiss and squirm, and then moan because you still have your fingers inside of him. His cock moves on his stomach as he writhes, spreading out the precum he’s been leaking since you started fingering him.

“Safeword is ‘turkey’,” Mike groans while he looks at Aneesa, “now, please, touch me.” That’s plenty to motivate her to crawl onto the bed again. She lies down next to him, and gently strokes his hair. Mikey immediately leans into her touch, and just from watching that one moment, you can tell she’s about to drive him completely nuts. If she has the confidence to…

“Such a pretty boy,” she purrs. So she does have the confidence. That discovery drives you more than just a little insane with joy. You choke back an almost sadistic chuckle when you watch Mike’s reaction to her voice. “And such a good boy, too. Taking her fingers like that, doing so well for us.” While she talks to him, Mike looks up to you with pleading eyes. You know exactly what they mean.

“He’s close, babe, he wants to cum. Should we let him?” The look he gives you intensifies, Neese sees it too.

“Oh, poor, desperate, needy baby!” Aneesa coos as she drags her fingers up and down his chest, occasionally running a fingernail over Mike’s pierced nipples just to watch him squirm and hear him moan. “He’s being such a perfect little slut though. I think we should let him.” It only takes a few more strokes of your fingers to pull him over the edge. Aneesa’s eyes are on Mike, watching him closely as it happens, but yours are on her. She’s still talking to him, stroking the side of his face, taking care of him while he turns into a whimpering little mess in her arms. You relish the sound he makes when you pull your fingers back and replace them with a plug.

“How’s that feel, baby?” you ask him, finding your answer in the look of utter bliss on his face. You’d like some verbal confirmation, though.

“Full,” he says as a lazy grin spreads across his face. You chuckle at his answer.

“Good,” you say, “I need that slutty little hole wide open…” It’s immediately obvious from the look on his face that he knows you plan on taking him up on that offer to use his strap-on, but as difficult as you find it to resist the anticipation in his eyes, you want to use him in a slightly different way, first. Before you can do that, however, you have to give the guy a minute to catch his breath, so you lie down next to him and snuggle into his side while he takes a break. On his other side, Aneesa does the same thing.

There’s a few minutes of peace, before Mike gets restless between the two of you, and his squirming makes you just as impatient. Soon, fingers and mouths are all over his body again.

“God, I want to sit on this gorgeous dick,” Aneesa sighs as she gives it a few lazy strokes.

“Next round, okay?” You wink at her, and she seems to understand perfectly that you have a little bit of a plan.

“You can sit on this gorgeous face, if you want?” Mikey says. His signature stupid grin widens even further when Neese moves to grant him his wish. In the meantime, you straddle his hips and use a hand to line his cock up with your soaking wet pussy. You know he’s clean. He texted you the results of his latest test not even four days ago – an hour or so before the screenshot of the break-up text.

The sounds Mikey makes while you slowly lower yourself onto his cock are absolutely delicious, especially once he gets his mouth on Aneesa’s pussy. This is fun. You get to make out with her while she rides his face and you bounce on his cock, and her fingers work your clit until you’re cumming all over Mike’s dick.

“Good boy, Mikey,” you moan, “now make her cum like that and I’ll give you what you want, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?” Of course, he can’t answer you – not with words, anyway – but judging from the sounds that spill from Aneesa’s throat, he’s getting close to doing as you told him.

“Keep him busy, babe,” you tell Neese as you climb off Mike and pull his harness out of the nightstand. You know it well, and it’s a bit of a bitch to put on, so you’re glad Mikey is nice and distracted, because he tends to become very annoying very quickly when he doesn’t have anything to keep him occupied while you wrangle the straps. You venture into the drawers again, rummaging around until you pull out Mikey’s favorite dildo. It’s neon pink, and was – once again – meant as a gag gift from friends who continuously underestimate Mikey’s ability to put his own pleasure before any embarrassment.

Even though you’re all set, you spend some time watching Mike and Aneesa, who seem to be having a great time giving each other head. If the blowjob she’s giving him is only half as sloppy as it sounds, you know he’s in absolute heaven right now. He likes ‘em wet.

“If you finish him off, I don’t think you’re getting any dick today, babe,” you chuckle, making Aneesa look up. She’s not happy about it, as she is clearly having a lot of fun sucking Mike off while he still eats her pussy like a man starved, but she does stop – much to Mike’s dissatisfaction, which, although suppressed by the fact that there’s still someone sitting on his face, is very evident.

His whining becomes louder when she moves to lie down next to him again. “You’re mean,” he says as he makes a face at Aneesa.

“Oh, babe, look at him,” she says to you, ignoring Mike and his puppy-eyes completely, “such a pathetic little whore.” He squeals when she pinches one of his nipples. You decide to give him a few quick smacks on his ass for good measure.

“Hey!” he whines, frowning at you. He’s good at that. A little too good, maybe. “I didn’t deserve that.”

“Did you like it?” you ask point-blank, raising an eyebrow while giving him a stern look. His little hint of an attitude disappears immediately, and you notice his resignation in his whole body, which relaxes completely.

“Yes,” he reluctantly admits before closing his eyes and gasping as you slowly pull the butt plug out of him and toss it somewhere on the bed. Aneesa takes her time watching you as you cover your strap with lube, then Mikey, who’s biting his lip and trembling slightly.

“Are you alright, Mikey?” she asks him. You’re grateful for her checking in on him, he doesn’t seem to see the need.

“Do you hear me say ‘turkey’?” he asks. You both roll your eyes at him and shake your heads.

“Baby, if something’s wrong, we’d like to do something about that before we get to ‘turkey’,” she throws back at him.

“Alright, alright, I know,” he laughs. “I am one hundred percent absolutely a-okay, now please, please, please…” You don’t wait for him to finish begging and gently start pushing the tip of your strap against his waiting hole. “Yeah, that,” he grunts. You’re careful with him, despite knowing he’s used to this, because that’s obviously what you do when you’re trying to shove seven inches of pink silicone up someone’s ass, no matter how many times it’s been done before. But God, you want to rail him hard. In a minute, you remind yourself. You’ll get to do that in a minute.

“Shit, that looks good!” Aneesa has moved onto her knees to get a closer look at what you’re doing. She’s clearly intrigued by the sight of the bright pink toy disappearing into Mikey’s body. It’s a shame he won’t be able to take any more after this – you know him by now, and you’re plenty familiar with your own lack of self-restraint as well. But who knows… Maybe next time?

She kisses you while gently stroking Mike’s cock when you’re finally completely inside of him, and you wait, giving Mike the opportunity to get used to the size of the toy – an opportunity he doesn’t necessarily need, but the waiting makes him impatient, and the sounds he makes when he’s impatient are adorable. So you torture him a little. Because you deserve it, and it’s so worth it. Next to you, Aneesa sighs appreciatively as she turns her head back to Mikey.

“He’s such a beautiful mess,” she whispers. Normally, he’d be able to hear it, too, but he’s far too preoccupied with what’s going on with his body to notice much of his surroundings. She’s right, he is absolutely gorgeous, especially looking as fucked out and spent as he does right now, with eyes that still beg for more each time they lock on yours. Slowly, you begin to shift your position so that Mike’s legs are on your shoulders, and his ass is on your thighs, and check if you can move like that. It seems to work just fine. You nod towards Aneesa, who understands you immediately and moves to straddle his thighs.

It’s tricky to get it right, but once you do, and she sinks down onto his cock, Mike’s eyes widen once, then close, and you just know they won’t open again for a long time. Soon enough, your thrusts fall into the same rhythm as Aneesa’s, and Mike’s moans and whines follow closely. Aneesa keeps talking to him the whole time, her praise coloring Mike’s cheeks as red as his lip is from his constant biting. Whatever answers he gives her come out in a cacophony of mumbling, growling, stammering, and whimpering – barely intelligible and drenched with the sound of pure ecstasy.

“Untie me, please,” you hear after a while. It’s a question filled with a desperate wish. Aneesa hears it too, and is more than happy to oblige. As soon as his hands are free, he wraps them around her, one tangling in her dark curls, the other resting on her back, where you reach for it and gently stroke him from his wrist to the tip of his index finger. He reacts to your touch by tangling his fingers with yours, and moving his other hand to Aneesa’s hip, guiding her through a final few thrusts until he finishes inside of her.

When she climbs off of him and wants to get out of bed to head to the bathroom, he stops her. A cheeky smile appears on your – and Mikey’s – face when you realize what he’s asking for.

“Come here,” he says, “and this time, you sit on my face. You don’t hover. Sit.” His grin is impossible. You pull out of him so they can find the right position, and you hurry to get out of the harness so you can find a nice place to watch Mike eat his cum out of your girlfriend’s pussy. It’s hotter than hell to see, and the sounds they’re both making – mixed with your own – are the perfect soundtrack for an amazing orgasm. Now you’re the squirming, trembling mess, sprawled out at the foot of the bed, while Mike gently nudges you with his feet, stroking your legs and just letting you know he’s there for you. It’s a much appreciated gesture that you gladly return.

You’re spent, all three of you, curled up in the most comfortable pile you were able to construct out of your tired and heavy bodies. As much as you want to think of something more pertinent or useful, you can’t seem to tear your eyes off of Aneesa’s arm, draped over Mike’s… whatever limb it is you’re looking at, you’re not quite sure anymore. The contrast between his pale and her dark skin is nice, as is everything else about the situation you find yourself in. Slowly, your eyes grow heavy, and you allow them to fall shut, surrounded by coziness and affection, saving your questions for later as you drift off to sleep.

[hannieween]

the shadow | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 10.6k

› 🎧: truth be told – baekhyun | blame – i.m | slidin' – kai | ribbon – dpr ian | burn it – bibi ft. dean | show me – devita | shadow – ten | lovememore – dosii | fuxxin' love (2019) – OoOo | hold me down – hyejin

› proofread by the lovelies @gyuhao5 and @monamipencil ty 🩵

› this is part 3 of the curse - hannieween fest

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: violence: abduction (not jeonghan at reader or the way around), yandere undertones, toxic relationship, smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, comfort fuck, switch reader, switch jeonghan, jeonghan is down atrocious, dirty talk, cowgirl, worship. pet names: little demon, baby, (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

the shadow

THE GROUND VIBRATED BENEATH YOUR FEET. It was a Friday night, and the city was alive with desire and sin. The streets were busy with people going around, and the buzzing from their souls was distracting, making you hungry.

But, living in the human world as a demon meant that you had to keep your head down. It would be incredibly dumb on your part to start a carnage in the middle of the street. Besides, you were odd, since you liked living amongst them like you were part of their world too.

In that same vein, you had adopted some of their nature too, so you were running late for work. It was your third month working in a small local pub in the town you used to live. It was a simple enough job. You had found out that you had a natural talent for tending to drunken people, and they found themselves naturally attracted to you. So, suffice it to say, that you earned a good amount of tips every night.

“I’m sorry, I’m late,” you said, removing the scarf you wore on your neck and hanging it on the coat rack.

“You’re only wearing that?” your co-worker, Daisy stared at you as though you were an odd bug. “It’s cold as a witch’s teat outside.”

“Witches are cool. That is why I am team cold,” you sighed, grabbing your pen and a notepad. “How’s it been?”

“Slow,” Daisy replied with a dead tone. “A passerby asked for you,” she mentioned offhandedly as she looked at her reflection in a hand mirror, checking out her lipstick.

“Who?” you frowned. You had a few regulars that admittedly only came to see you, but Daisy would know them by name.

“Some random weirdo,” she shrugged. “Didn’t say your name, but he gave your description to the last hair on your head. Creepy.”

You grew more intrigued, turning to her to see the disinterest on her face. “What did you tell him?”

“To fuck off, naturally,” she replied with the same ease. “He refused to give me his name, so I refused to give him details about you.”

“Is he still here?” you asked, walking towards the door and sneaking a glance through the small round window to the pub.

“He’s sitting on one of the stools. If it gets to it, I already warned Mike about him,” she smirked triumphantly, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t mind having a little fun watching him throw that creep out. It would make my Friday night.”

In the bar, you saw a man, sitting on the far side of the row of stools. He kept his head down, so it was nearly impossible for you to discern the features of his face. But one thing you knew, it was the first time that you had seen him.

“Well, I suppose that my Friday night just got more interesting.”

Daisy sent you a knowing look, her shoulders going slack in a sign of defeat. “Don’t tell me you’re going to talk to that guy?” she asked with an incredulous tone. “I was a bitch to him, I gave him the middle finger already! All for nothing?”

“We’ll find out,” you smirked at her, pushing the door open and stepping out of the backroom of the pub and into the warm and cozy place, buzzing with the sounds of the people gathering, clinking their jars and laughing out loud.

Some people greeted you with nods and waves of their hands, some people called your name whenever you strolled around the pub, between the tables and chairs. Usually, you would make your way to the first table that waved you down, but this time, you walked straight behind the bar.

“Hi, Mikey,” you greeted with a sing-song tone. “How’s it going?”

“Like any Friday night,” the older man spoke, he was about a foot taller than you, his beard adorned with gray hairs. “A guy is looking for you, Daisy told me,” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “First sign of trouble, tell me.”

“Thank you, Mikey,” you sighed, showing him a smile. Something within you stirred with something akin to satisfaction. To be surrounded by people who take care of you, in the best way humanely possible, made you feel special, and welcomed.

If only they knew. If they knew that you were very much capable of handling any trouble, even more capable than Mikey to kick out any drunkard without batting an eye. But they did not have to know, in fact, you were trying your best to keep your head down, and avoid drawing attention to yourself.

However, that happened naturally to you. People glanced your way without you even looking for it. So you made your way to the end of the bar, stopping in front of the person sitting on the last stool.

He wore a black leather jacket, his hair equally dark was long and arranged in a ponytail, some hairs hanging on the sides in a messy fringe. He toyed with the rim of his jar, half emptied already.

“You’ve been looking for me?” you placed your elbows neatly on the countertop, leaning slightly so you could sneak a better look to his face.

The man beat you to it, raising his head so he could direct a careful glance over you, sizing you up. Once he gathered with his eyes every detail of your physique, he nodded. “Yeah, that might be you who I’m looking for,” he said offhandedly, tilting his head to one side.

You coughed, getting an uncomfortable feeling as he eyed you up and down. “What can I help you with?”

He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You could not make out what he was about, and that was when you started to get a flight or fight feeling. Like a prey who is being sighted by its killer, far between the lines of discretion.

“I want you to tell me,” he began, keeping his voice low and his brown eyes on your face. “Why does a demon live between humans? Isn’t that surpassing the line of playing with your food?”

You froze in an instant, fear of being caught sizzling underneath your skin. “Who are you?” you asked.

“I should be asking that to you,” he frowned. “Listen, I see that you care about the humans that are around you right now, so, I’d suggest that we take this conversation elsewhere, away from any potential casualties.”

“What if I don’t care about the humans around me?” you countered, making him pause and consider your words. “Like you said, what if I like playing with my food?”

He narrowed his brown eyes, his lips forming a syllable, but then they broke into a grin. “You’re lying.”

You looked at him in pure perplexion. You had heard about demon hunters before in your short life as a demon. But you never had the opportunity to come across one, so you never really cared.

“Are you a hunter?” you asked, silently reprimanding yourself for showing that you were actually shaken by his presence.

He was dark. Alluring, even. If you dared to glimpse past his mask, you saw a smoking light dancing inside him, it was his soul.

“I am,” he nodded politely, as though he had a rule to keep diplomacy before he hunted you down.

“Suppose I don’t get a name?” you smirked, trying to keep your nerves in line.

“Only if I get yours first.”

That was smart. The hunter knew that there was a power in knowing your name. Demons were creatures of subservience. They were ruled by sin, by corruption. But as such, they had to be kept in check somehow. And when you knew a demon’s domain, you could practically rule them. If you were strong enough.

You stuck out your hand to him, smiling before uttering your name. “At your service.”

The hunter raised his brown eyes, you saw the confusion in them. Your brazenness was not something out of the ordinary for demons who were in the human world like you, but the nerve to give out your name like that did its work to shake him. But he took your hand, all the same, slightly parting his mouth. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Both of you stilled, your hand instinctively tightening around his as a foreign, but also so familiar feeling crept inside you, gripping you wholly. You sucked in a breath, your eyes glazing over. Oh, no, your mind echoed. Is this…

A bond. And not just any bond.

Yoon Jeonghan frowned, his mouth agape, his eyes teary as he shared that feeling with you. And you waited to see if he knew the reason behind the preternatural sensation coiling around his heart. But he remained motionless, did not even protest when you slipped your hand out of his grip. The turbulent fire inside him calmed down when his dark eyes met yours.

The hunter cleared his throat, blinking dumbly as he jumped down the stool, exiting the place without saying a word.

And that is how you meet Yoon Jeonghan. Your soulmate.

A year went by like water slipping through your fingers. Seasons changed and you welcomed each one of them like any regular human would, except that instead of wearing a costume on Halloween like everyone else, you would just display your horns on your head. Instead of celebrating Christmas, you would go out on a hunt for sins, which oddly enough was a day with many to choose from.

But one thing that was a constant in your life for the whole year round, was the push and pull with Yoon Jeonghan.

Many nights had passed since your last encounter with him, the night you confessed to having been starving yourself of human sins in the fruitless attempt to become human yourself. Nights had turned into weeks, then months, three to be exact. Now you were running from him, only stopping to feed from him.

You were out one night, enjoying the buzzing from the streets of the city. The excitement you felt around you from human souls was nearly making your mouth water. That was until you felt someone tracking you, a distant shadow that kept you out of your line of sight.

He had been lurking for too long, following you from town to town, through the shadows that the tall buildings of the city cast. Following you like a monster on a leash.

You smirked secretly, looking over your shoulder to see his silhouette wrapped in shadows. Jeonghan had found you again, just like he always would. As long as you and him lived, you would always cross each other’s paths.

It had become a game for you. And now it was time to run.

Being a demon was freeing in so many ways. Now that you were at your full strength, you were also freed from all kinds of inhibitions. You did not need a house or shelter, you did not possess belongings or extra clothes.

So you just sprung into a run, quickly devising a plan to escape from this city, and hit the next town until Jeonghan found you again. The city passed you in a blur, and soon your surroundings turned into walls made of thick trees.

You were not sure if Jeonghan knew you were playing a game. At this point, he was just as enslaved to it as you were, running away, only to be found by him. An endless push and pull.

But this felt different to all the times he loomed on your back. No, this was a first. Jeonghan kept himself far away from you out of shame, yes. However, this time it was not a shame for liking you, nor not being able to resist you.

Jeonghan was sorry.

And he would watch you tear through a different town until he mustered all the strength he needed to come to you, announcing himself between the shadows, tail between his legs. You were completely familiar with that. But now you just decided to make him suffer a little.

Other times, you did not resist him; you would take him wherever you could, an empty alleyway. The last time you did this, you took him in the backseat of his car, fucking him until he was a complete mess. You would wait until he fell asleep to exit his car quietly and leave him to wake up completely alone.

Yoon Jeonghan was no fool. He knew you were playing hard to get. He knew that what you were doing was payback for all the times he tried to resist you. All the times he tried to pretend that what he felt for you was some sort of divine retribution.

But in truth, he could not keep allowing himself to be with you. You showed up in his life like a comet falling out of the sky, crashing and burning everything around him, leaving him blind to all reason, too stupid to do anything. So stupid that he lost whatever made sense in his life, and he lost you as well.

Even if he did not actually have you.

Jeonghan sat alone in a booth pushed up to the corner of the diner, where he was slowly chewing the last bits of his breakfast, looking out the window pensively.

The pull he had towards you grew stronger, sometimes thinner, but it was always there. Now that he knew that what he felt was a result of something bigger than him, and than you, he had resorted to analyzing it.

After finishing up his plate, he raised his hand to flag the waitress down, asking for another cup of coffee.

You slid to the seat in front of him with a short sigh, fixing your hair with your hands as if you had just finished jogging, which, Jeonghan thought, could have been the case.

The waitress refilled the cup of coffee, and Jeonghan kindly thanked the lady, pushing the cup to you to then hand you the sugar.

“Did you know I was close?” you asked, bewildered at noticing how quickly Jeonghan had learned to discern your proximity by using the bond.

Jeonghan was tempted to say that he also knew how you liked your coffee. Two sugars, no milk. But that had nothing to do with the bond. So, he just nodded with his head.

“Well, that’s no fun,” you muttered, pouring the sugar on the teaspoon, one, two and sending him a look, you poured a little more sugar.

Jeonghan smiled quietly, it was not a happy smile. “I supposed you would grow bored if I stopped following you across the country. I was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m here because I’m hungry,” you said flatly, raising your hand to flag the waitress down.

He also knew that. And not only that, but he also knew that you did not need waffles and bacon, your favorite. You needed something that would never be found on a diner’s menu. Or any restaurant’s menu for that matter.

“Can I have waffles with syrup, please?” you asked with a sweet tone, beaming at the lady. “Oh, and can I have bacon with that?”

Jeonghan looked at the way you smiled at the waitress, his stomach tightening a little in both nervousness and something more, it was a foreign feeling.

He noticed how the woman tensed up at your presence. Humans had a natural fight-or-flight response to demons, but with you, they just assumed it was because of your natural beauty. Or your assertiveness.

“And you suppose I can help ease your hunger?” Jeonghan asked, keeping an eye on the surroundings for any signs of danger, in case you and him needed to run.

“Yeah,” you responded in an obvious tone, taking a small sip from your cup of coffee.

Jeonghan noticed the way you carefully pressed your lips on the rim, as though you could burn yourself.

“I mean, how else am I going to pay for this?” you smirked, placing your chin on your hands, expecting him to laugh, or to say something quippy at you.

“Fine,” Jeonghan said, releasing a puffy sigh in annoyance.

He wondered if this would lead to a serious conversation about what happened the last time you talked. But chances were, you were just having more fun torturing him.

He deserved it.

Something deep inside him pulsated, kicking the air out of his lungs. The feeling rippled, it went on as he blinked and found you, looking equally astounded. But you recuperated faster than him, you usually did.

“How did you know?” Jeonghan heard himself blurt, his tone rough as though he had been screaming for hours. “About the bond?”

You cleared your throat, composing yourself on the seat by resuming to stir your coffee. “I’ve lived in the underworld, Jeonghan, I know how a bond behaves and feels like,” you said, eyeing the woman closing up to leave your breakfast on the table. “Thank you, ma’am,” you smiled politely.

“I thought bonds were only made after making a deal with a demon,” Jeonghan mumbled, keeping his tone in a volume only you would be able to hear. “You and I have never struck a deal.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Einstein,” you quipped, taking a generous piece of waffles bathed in syrup to your mouth. You moaned blissfully, the sound was not sexual, but it had several eyes drawn to you.

Jeonghan knew why, your voice was sweet, appealing to the human senses. It also had an effect on him, but that was because of an entirely different reason. He cleared his throat too.

“Bonds made with deals or promises are quite common. No, this is different,” you said after gulping down the waffles with coffee. “You and I were made with this bond. It’s always existed for us.”

He looked at you confusedly as you tore through your breakfast. “What do you mean we were made with the bond?”

You dragged the last bit of waffles through the pool of syrup on your plate. “We were born with it.”

“You were born…” he trailed off.

“I was made, Jeonghan,” you pointed your fork at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I knew that,” he said, blinking slowly. “But following your logic, you had to be born at the same time as me.”

“Time is different in the underworld,” you reminded him, chewing slowly to enjoy the last bit off your plate. “I’m actually a little bit older than you.”

Jeonghan had assumed that as well. Though he knew you were a fairly younger demon from the ones he has faced, you had to be older than him, guessing by your physical strength alone. “So you’ve known all this time.”

You nodded, pushing your empty plate aside. “Ever since we spoke to each other,” you crossed your arms on the table, directing a serious look at him. “I’ve always known, Jeonghan.”

“You could’ve told me just to toss it at my face,” he pointed, there was no venom in his words, he was as confused as he was the night you left him. “All this time, I thought that this was some sort of retribution, a divine cause and effect I had to endure for wanting to be around you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

At that, you lowered your eyes in guilt. “I never thought it would make a difference. I never thought you would believe me, so I never said anything.”

Jeonghan felt a kind of pain he had never felt before he met you. It coiled around his heart, it was remorse because he knew what you did not want to say, what he could not bring himself to do.

Because even after you told him, he did nothing. It did not make a difference. He still refused you, he refused to give in.

“Can I help you with something else?” the waitress approached, addressing him intently.

You kept your head down, so Jeonghan never saw the glimmer in your eyes from the tears that were beginning to form.

“The bill, please,” he said, but he was quickly distracted.

You were sliding on the seat, walking away from the table, and then pushing the door open, exiting the diner.

“Shit,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath, reaching for his wallet, and pulling out a bill, quickly leaving the place to follow you, knowing that by the time he reached outside, you would be gone.

You were nowhere to be seen, Jeonghan scouted with his gaze his surroundings, were you mocking him again?

When he turned around, he let out a short breath in relief. You were sitting on the passenger seat of his car, aloofly checking the roots of your hair, pretending to ignore him while hiding a smile.

Jeonghan sent his gaze skyward, trying to find some patience in the grim-looking sky. It would rain soon, and you did not have somewhere to crash now that you were effectively on the run and alone.

He decided to go along with whatever crazed plan you were crafting, he felt he was in no position to do otherwise, but to follow. Even if you were just toying with him in revenge.

You followed him with your eyes as he went around the car, yanking the door open and sliding to the seat silently. “Where are we heading to?” you asked, primly tucking your hands between your thighs.

“We’re skipping town,” he said, turning the key on the engine.

“Already?” you turned slightly to get your seatbelt on. “I thought you would like this town.”

“Why is that?” he kept his town flat, trying to keep the discontent at bay.

“It’s lonely,” you said sweetly. “For lonely people such as you.”

“We need the opposite of lonely right now,” he replied, trying to ignore to the best of his ability to omit the fact that the last town he lived in was solely because he could keep an eye on you that way.

“Mn,” you hummed pensively. “You’re no fun when you’re angry and quiet,” you pointed with a knowing tone, turning to look out the window.

Jeonghan arched an eyebrow, trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, he leaned his head to his hand, an elbow propped on the windowsill.

You read his silence, your lip curling a little in a smile. “You know that I can also read you, right?”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he muttered tiredly, avoiding to look your way.

You clicked your tongue but decided to keep quiet. Jeonghan was frustrated, that much you knew, telling from the rigidness of his movements, the way his hand tightened around the steering wheel. Two fingers rubbed his bottom lip harshly, he kept that motion for so long that you thought that it had to burn him at some point.

But aside from that, you could see the enraged flame inside him, dancing erratically from the moment you showed up at the diner. You knew that your tantrum had run its course, and he was now trying not to tell you how miserable you had made him these past few weeks.

And he knew that you were only turning to him so you could feed. That had been obvious from the moment he saw you. Your skin was colorless and dry, the bags under your eyes were prominent, and not only that, Jeonghan probably assumed that you no longer wanted to consume human souls, only his sins.

Soon, you entered a new city that welcomed you with a big sign, Welcome to Veridian Bay! leading to a bridge crossing over the waterfront and into the big city with big, tall buildings.

You leaned to the window to take a look at how tall the buildings stood, the streets were busy with people, and everything was alive with buzzing sounds. Jeonghan kept driving deep into the city, until you reached a quieter part, away from the tall buildings, the shiny stores and flashy signs.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, looking curiously at the big shopping mall he just parked his car in front of.

“We need to buy clothes,” he directed a judging look at you.

“What’s wrong with mine?” you asked to no end. Your clothes were torn and filthy, another reason why people threw you second looks at every place you walked into, demon allure or not.

Jeonghan exited the car, and you followed him closely, as though you were trying not to lose him in between the people.

“I have a question,” you said, sticking to his side to shield yourself from the weird looks you were receiving. You did not care about it, but you wanted to keep a low profile as much as you could. “What happened to the two hunters?”

“They stopped chasing you,” he replied in a quiet tone, leading you to a department store.

Everything was bright with colors, and shiny lights hanging from the ceiling. Rows of clothing racks are laid in front of you in an elaborate maze. You had been to malls before, but never to one as big as this. And definitely never with Jeonghan.

“Do you think I’m free from them, then?” you yanked your gaze from a row of pretty blouses, your fingers itching to touch the fabric.

“Not by a long shot, no,” he answered, tensing beside you when your arm brushed his. “Choose something quickly, the shorter we stay here, the better.”

You grabbed a plain white t-shirt, measuring it over your torso and facing the mirror where Jeonghan stood, watching you intently. “Do you think this one goes with my body type?” you asked fruitlessly.

He just huffed, rolling his eyes swiftly. “Stop playing,” he said, looking around precatively. “We need to find somewhere safe to stay, and you need to feed soon.”

The way he gritted out the words allowed for the quiet rage simmering inside him slip through. A light shock appeared on his face, much as if he heard his own words and quickly forced himself to composure.

Jeonghan was mad, and you were the reason why the flame inside him was growing into a merciless fire burning inside him.

“Alright,” you hummed, picking a pair of jeans, a long t-shirt and undergarments.

Jeonghan followed you as you made your way to the queue line to pay. His mind was once again buzzing with questions, if anything, the conversation back in the diner left him even more confused.

He had thought all this time that what he felt for you was some kind of joke. The insane lust, the deep craving, the endless nights he spent thinking about you, dreaming about you… all because of a supernatural bond he never had control of.

You made a tiny cooing sound, making him snap his gaze to where you stood in line. You were lifting a finger to match with a baby’s pointer finger. The baby girl was looking over the shoulder of her mother who queued up in front of you. Somehow, you had attracted the focus of the baby, and you were now caught up in her big eyes, in her dimpled hands.

Jeonghan’s stomach twisted violently. You smiled at the baby as she wrapped her tiny hand around your finger, laughing with you. The feeling tightening inside him was completely alien to him, he wanted to get rid of it as you would an illness.

He never understood why it was impossible for him to fight against you. He used to think that your innate allure created that attraction he felt for you, he used to think that you were playing games on him.

But that did not explain one thing. As he watched your joyous smile, he realized that what he felt was not entirely carnal. He recalled what he felt that night he knew you were slipping away, the fear of losing you.

The tight feeling coiled inside his chest when you lifted your eyes at him, keeping that joy with you from being paid attention to by an innocent baby. The interaction had been so pure and out of the ordinary for you that it brought a spark to your dark eyes.

The knot inside him broke free, blooming inside him freely, filling his chest with a warmth that was nearly intoxicating.

“Are you okay, hunter?” you asked quietly, noticing the change in his eyes, the quiet rage dying down at the same time the look of bewilderment on his face set in.

“Yeah,” he forced out, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered awkwardly, still shocked at how suddenly his erratic mood disappeared. What added to the shock was that Jeonghan did not lie to you, he was indeed fine, however, the shock on his face was confusing to you. 

“One bed, again?” you deadpanned.

Jeonghan closed the door to the small motel room. This one had a leather couch that looked decent compared to the thin white curtains that allowed for the light coming from the street outside to seep through.

“What’s the point in asking for two beds?” Jeonghan shrugged, taking off his black leather jacket as he let out a cough.

“I’d appreciate it if you actually made some effort in swaying me,” you mentioned off-handedly as you started zipping down your hoodie. “I’m still a lady, you know?”

At that, Jeonghan chuckled. “You are as much as a lady as I am a gentleman, so,” he shrugged. “There’s the couch, if you care that much.”

“You’re right,” you snapped your fingers at him. “You can sleep on the couch, I’ll sleep on the bed!”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, raising his arms to grab his tight black shirt and pull it over his head.

You stopped, dead in your tracks. Jeonghan had a very deceiving build, most would think he was lean and due to his affection for dark clothes, he masked himself well to curious eyes. But in fact, Jeonghan had a toned body, a low bulk that had been built up due to the nature of his work.

His milky white skin was adorned with scars, bruises and bitemarks from creatures he hunted down. As he removed the sleeves from his arms, he sent you a look. “What?” he blurted.

You were too caught up to come up with a lie, but something deep inside you recoiled in nervousness. “I was just looking at you,” you mumbled meekly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “You’re gawking.”

You shrugged. “Can’t blame me. You’d be gawking too if I suddenly decided to strip naked.”

“Tsk,” he smiled playfully, throwing the t-shirt on the couch. “It would be fair game, at least.”

“Shut up,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at him. But still, you stared at his fingers undoing the belt of his black denim jeans, pulling it from the hoops.

“Alright, then,” he said, giving his belt the same treatment, discarding it on the couch. He placed his hands on his hips, his torso forming a perfect inverted triangle. “Are you going to keep playing dumb with me?”

You arched one eyebrow at him, too surprised at his bluntness to even speak. Gaping, you stood there for a second, trying to decide on deflection or acceptance.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you turned your back on him, mustering all the will in you to not glance his way. You started rummaging in the bag of clothes, pulling out an I love kitties shirt that you got as a nightgown. It had a doodle of an orange cat on it.

“Please,” he huffed, and you bit your bottom lip. “You can’t lie to me so don’t try to treat me like I’m stupid.”

“Take a hint, hunter. I don’t want to talk about this,” you said but failed to coat your words with enough venom.

A hand circled around your wrist, pulling you to his body, commanding you to face him. With a gasp, you yanked back, looking at him furiously. But his gaze smothered that fire inside you at once. “You left,” he said, the trouble in his mind mirrored in his dark gaze. “You left me.”

“Yeah, I left because you could not even talk to me, Jeonghan,” you replied, trying to step back from him, the back of your knees finding the bed.

He gave you an incredulous look. “I’ve spent three months chasing you across the fucking country,” he said. “You only stop running when you need to feed from me. I’ve paid enough, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be the one to decide that,” you gritted, betraying yourself. Your eyes started brimming with tears, angry tears, sorrowful tears. They carried all the misery that you had lived as his soulmate.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded, his tone rising in exasperation.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shying away. You lowered your face, bringing a hand to wipe the wetness on your cheeks.

“That’s not true.”

As you raised your head, you involuntarily sniffled. “Well, you know what I want, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan gaped at you for a moment, choking on his argument. He knew then that nothing would give peace to this fight because there was no solution to this.

You wanted to become human. In your mind, it was the only way you could stop feeding from his lust, his greed. It was the only way to make you stop feeding from human souls. And by that, you would not be hunted down for being a demon. Jeonghan would not have to feel remorseful every time he looked at you.

But it was something uncertain. You did not know whether the path to becoming human would even work, or if you would survive it.

“Is there a way to end this?” Jeonghan asked, his heart stammering painfully in his chest.

“End what?” you asked slowly.

He blinked for a long second, gathering his strength. “Is there a way to break the bond?”

The question robbed you of air, and Jeonghan could see it in your gentle exhale. Your eyes glinting with sorrow, wide and looking at his face as though you had trouble assimilating his words.

“You-you want to break the bond?” you asked, stuttering under an overwhelming pain.

“Is it possible?” he pressed, breathing hard, trying to shake off the numbing pain in his heart.

“N-no, I don’t know,” you sucked in a breath, which he understood to be a sob. “D-do you want to break it, Jeonghan?”

“If it means we’re free from each other then yes,” he whispered, hating the look in your eyes with a passion that he could not stand. He was causing that pain and in turn, he felt it too.

But maybe what you felt for each other was not real. Maybe once the bond is broken, you would realize that what you felt for him was all a farce, he thought.

You rubbed the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eye. “M-maybe,” you mumbled. “But I don’t think so. One of us would have to die, I think,” you spoke with uncertainty because you were sure that the bond would not be broken, not even then.

“You don’t know if your way of becoming human will work,” he mumbled, trying to reason with you. But the truth was, he felt guilty for making you cry.

And you could feel the guilt, it swarmed around him like an angry cloud.

“I know one thing,” you raised your eyes, heedlessly showing him how affected you were by this. “I wouldn’t have to feel how fucking miserable you are when you’re with me,” you spat.

Jeonghan went still, as though petrified. The only thing that moved in him was his gaze, heavy with a dangerous darkness, it coasted over the features of your face. “Is that what you think I am? Miserable?”

“No, Jeonghan, I know it,” you replied with a shaky tone. “I can feel it in you. When you look at me when you touch me.”

He yanked his gaze from you, running a hand on his face while blinking his anger away rapidly. “You don’t know shit,” he hissed at you, motioning to turn his back on you but quickly decided against it.

“Oh, yeah?” you taunted.

“Yeah, you don’t know shit,” he doubled down, his voice raw. “You think that because you can sense what I feel it means that it’s all because of you,” he spat, taking a step closer to you but you raised a hand, trying to stop him, but he insisted, grabbing your hands to stop you instead.

“Then what is it?” you pressed.

“Ever since I met you nothing has made sense in my life,” he hissed, leaning over you. “I hate myself,” he shuddered, swallowing hard. “I hate myself because even if you were human, I wouldn’t have anything to offer you. I can’t even say that I’m sorry because it’s the truth. I can’t give you what you want.”

You looked at him in plain shock. It was such a shame that the only person in the world who saw you for who you were still rejected you. The pain from that realization shook you hard, so hard in fact that you physically recoiled from him, closing your eyes to let your tears go.

Jeonghan watched your tears roll down your cheeks, the silence in the room broken by the occasional intake of breath coming from you. But he stood there, silently cursing life and its way of making fun of him. He was raised to not want anything in life. Not shelter, nor warmth. His sad world, cold as ice and hard as stone. He would have followed this path blindly until the day of his untimely death.

But the truth was, he did want one thing in life. He wanted you. And it was killing him not to admit that.

“I…” you croaked, opening your eyes after a long second. A gaping hole in your heart tried to suck you in. “I thank you for the clothes, Jeonghan,” you said dejectedly, turning away from him and walking towards the door.

Jeonghan stared at the wall in front of him, your arm brushing his as you passed him by. His mind reeled wildly, considering what he went through the last time you walked away from him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he blurted.

“That is none of your concern.”

“Like hell it is,” he said, grabbing your arm before you could reach for the doorknob. You sent him another one of those looks, a dangerous animal realizing it had been caught. “You’re not safe out there.”

“Like you give a shit,” you said, pushing him away with one hand on his chest.

But he grabbed that hand, pulling you to his frame with a sharp tug. “Yeah, what do you even know about me?” he challenged, his words cold. “I wouldn’t be protecting you, chasing you if I didn’t give a shit about you.”

“I would prefer that you didn’t,” you bit back.

“That’s not true,” he said, but his tone rose in desperation. He released your arm, fear crossing his features when he realized that if you walked, he would have to let you go.

“You have a very weird way to show that you care, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, understanding where that fear came from. Because all this time, you accepted the turbulence in his thoughts, in his soul. If you decided to go, he would let you.

The heavy darkness in his gaze dissolved as the features of his face relaxed. The gentle resignation swept over him, reminding you how hard it was for him to even comprehend what the bond was.

Jeonghan had two ways to show his emotions, either through carnal desire or brute force. One of them was the one that was unleashed in the vicious cycle he had with you.

But you welcomed it all the same. He took one step towards you, reaching for you as though fearful you might step away. His hand found the side of your head, the other sliding on your waist, gripping you gently before his lips met yours.

The kiss was slow, tentative at first, showing you an apologetic need to you. But you were still to fueled up from the argument, finding his bare chest with your hands to push him off you.

Jeonghan looked sad for a second, but he quickly understood that you were angry, and looking to make him pay. You pushed him again, more forcefully, but he was stronger than you, stepping towards you like a magnet that refused to keep away from you.

His hands returned to their previous positions, as you found his shoulder with one hand, his nape with the other, welcoming him with a vehement kiss. He groaned under your touch, revelling at the fact that you were kissing him even though you were being harsh with it.

Jeonghan broke the kiss abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, the turbulence inside him dying down, like smothering a fire.

“You should be sorry,” you mumbled on his lips, diving for another hungry kiss before pushing him by the shoulders, and shoving him onto the couch behind him. He sat down, gasping in surprise at the brute force you used on him. A wolfish grin appeared on his lips when you walked over to him, sitting down on his lap, straddling him.

His hands welcomed you, grabbing you by the waist to give you a squeeze. He thought of all the nights he has had the opportunity to be like this with you, and the nights he wished he had never let you go. “I don’t want to break it,” he confessed, tilting his head back to meet your eyes. “The bond. I don’t want to break it,” he repeated.

“Then why did you say…?”

“What if what we feel for each other isn’t real?” he blurted the tight feeling inside him protesting in pain when he spoke those words.

You smiled at him sweetly, making him feel worse. “What do you feel for me, Jeonghan?” you baited.

He swallowed hard, instead of communicating with words, he carefully brought a hand to cup your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin in the process. He pulled your face closer to his, eyeing your lips and then your eyes before giving you a sweet kiss. You reciprocated the kiss, outlining his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, slowly meeting his.

“Do you think all people with bonds feel this for each other, Jeonghan?” you mused. When he was unable to speak out an answer, you continued. “I think the bond only helped us find each other. The rest just happened on its own.”

Jeonghan listened to your words intently, his gaze coasting the features of your face. You’re your eyes, to your mouth and back again. His fingers grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it up your torso.

You raised your hands, helping him take your t-shirt off. He sighed, his hands returning to hold you, caressing your naked back freely, his breath fanning on the plain of your breasts when he leaned over to plant a kiss on your skin.

You raked his hair with your fingers, getting rid of the hair tie holding his ponytail, making him groan as your fingernails caressed his scalp. His lips reached the swell of one of your breasts, planting wet kisses, enjoying the way you always responded to his touch; your skin prickling in the wake of his lips.

He encircled his arms around your waist, using his strength to trade the positions of your body, placing your body on the sofa, him crawling on top of you. Then he kissed you, he kissed you with such force that you thought you might break. It was electrifying to have his lips on yours, him moaning your name in between kisses.

Your hands explored his chest, fingertips lingering on his scars, his nipples, his bellybutton. You undid the button of his jeans, tucking your hands between his underwear and his ass, feeling his skin freely as you pushed his jeans and boxers down.

Once he was completely bare, and on top of you, he took his turn taking your shorts and underwear off. He did so without wasting time, effectively leaving you bare on the couch, and under his body.

He leaned over you, placing a hand beside your shoulder to prop his weight on it, lowering the lower half of his body on you. His skin was warm, you could feel everything, the beating of his heart, the soft pubic hairs brushing your skin. He was hard already, his cock pressing on your lower tummy.

There was a pause, as soon as your naked bodies came into contact with each other, something came alight inside you. You knew Jeonghan felt it too, because his reaction was the same as yours. Like sparks firing wildly inside your chest, lingering on your skin, robbing you of air.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, trying to hold onto the feeling fluttering in your chest.

“I know,” he breathed, leaning so he could give soft pecks to your lips. “I know, baby.”

You sighed a moan, it sounding pathetic as you let him adore your skin. He continued kissing you, your lips, your earlobe, your throat. He hummed softly when he breathed in the scent of your skin when he tasted you on his tongue as he licked your breasts.

You sucked in a breath, caressing his hair as he took one of your nipples in his mouth. “Fuck,” you whispered.  

But he was in a hurry, trailing down your torso with soft, open-mouthed kisses. You moaned, trembling under him as he inched closer and closer to where you needed him the most. Jeonghan knew you better than anyone else on earth, sometimes, you thought he knew your body better than yourself.

“Shit,” you hissed, clenching your jaw as he kissed your mound, pressing his tongue on you’re your skin with a raspy moan on his part. You parted your legs for him, allowing him to lick a broad stripe between your pussy lips, blissfully drinking you in.

The room was flooded with a series of sweet, airy moans from your part. You called out his name multiple times as he ate you out, licking your pussy with soft smacking sounds and low hums. All you could focus on was his tongue on you, gliding on your folds, teasing your clit with flitting motions.

His hands cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs swirling around your nipples, pinching softly to bring out more sweet noises from your mouth. You writhed uncontrollably on the sofa, keeping your hands on the back of his head to try and anchor yourself to enjoy his mouth pleasuring your pussy.

But as you drew nearer to your release, you could not just hold out any longer, pressing your hands on the back of his head and pushing your hips to grind your pussy on his tongue. Your mouth parted. “Jeonghan,” you whined, feeling his mouth relax, letting you ride him.

Moving your hips faster on his mouth, you felt his hands squeezing your tits gently, his thumbs teasing your nipples, pushing you to the edge. You closed your eyes as your sweet, sweet release washed over you, sizzling beneath your skin.

Your muscles went lax on the sofa, moaning out his name repeatedly as you felt like dissolving in the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you decided against it in a second, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders and urging him to sit back on the sofa.

“What–,”

“Let me ride you,” you mumbled, cutting in before he could protest.

Jeonghan nodded obediently, and you took one whole second to comprehend that he was just letting you do whatever you wanted to him. No complaints, no snarky comments.  

You straddled him, grabbing his cock with one hand and jerking him off a few times just to see the muscles of his face go soft. You smiled, shifting on top of him so you could guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, sinking in him slowly. “Gods,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” you said softly, holding his chin with one hand. You lifted your hips slightly, letting them roll on him as you sat back down, eliciting a short groan from him. “That’s it, baby. Feel me. Do you like that?”

Jeonghan blinked slowly, pushing his tongue on his bottom lip before nodding.

“Words, Jeonghan, use them.”

He obediently kept his gaze on you, like you were the moon, and he was looking at you for the first time in ages. “I love it,” he replied with a strangled tone. “I love your pussy. I love how it feels around me.”

Jeonghan dropped his head back on the headrest of the couch, swallowing his moans, his fingers clenching around your hips. “I love your taste too,” he choked out, much as if he needed to say it but barely found the strength to do so, enraptured by pleasure.

One of the corners of your lips curled slowly as you rolled your hips on him, inch by inch, tortuously slow. “Oh, yeah?” you breathed, closing your eyes briefly to savour the feeling of his worshipping washing over you, making your blood dance under your skin.

“Yes,” he hissed out the word and now you knew he was trying to resist himself. “I miss your smell when you’re not near me. Drives me crazy.”

You giggled quietly, knowing that he was letting go of his deepest thoughts.

His fingers dug into your skin hard enough to leave marks. You opened your eyes, seeing the strain in his voice reflecting on his face, his teary eyes coasting all over your body. “Le-let me come, please. I needed you so much, baby. I don’t think I’ll last any longer.”

You held onto his lean shoulders to lift your hips off him, his wet cock slipping out of your walls and leaning to one side on his lower abdomen, the tip was reddened, a vein tracing on his wet shaft.

Jeonghan groaned, closing his eyes tightly to let out a shaky sigh. “Please,” he sighed. “I want to come inside you,” he said but did not make a move to slip his cock back into your cunt.

“Say you’re sorry,” you murmured.

And there it was, the hole in your chest opening once again, sucking you back in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not wasting a second, he said again, “I’m sorry, I let you go.”

You showed him an empty smile, which you pressed onto his lips, grabbing his chin again. “Don’t let me go again,” you pleaded but masked your words to sound sweet, not letting it show that his apology, though forced out of the need for release, was making you feel pain.

Jeonghan returned the light smile, though he was genuine with it. “Never,” he whispered, wrapping an arm on your lower back to keep you in balance as you sank down on his cock again, making him shudder in pleasure. “I promise.”

“Jeonghan–,” you gasped, pausing the sway of your hips on him to look at him perplexedly. “Don’t make promises, you’ll–,”

“I promise I won’t walk away from you,” he said, his dark eyes coasting all over the features of your face.

You closed your eyes, shuddering hard at the tingling rush of blood swimming in your veins; the bond tightening due to the force of the promise setting. “Jeonghan, don’t,” you whispered in plea.

Stopping the movement of your hips completely, you hugged his shoulders, trailing the hair of his nape with your fingers. You breathed raggedly, just as he was by the weight of a new promise binding you both.

“I want this,” he whispered shakily. “Let me.”

“You don’t know what this means for you,” you warned, a violent shudder shaking your body on top of him.

He hugged you tightly to his body as if shielding you from the world. “I do, and I want it,” he reassured.

“Jeonghan…”

But he just went on, “Like you said, we’re meant to be, we’ve always have been,” he said with a low raspy tone, blinking in an enamoured way at you. “And I am sorry it took me so long to accept it. I’m sorry.”

A sob coiled in your throat, fingers curling around the long strands of his dark hair. “I forgive you,” you whispered, daring to give him a shy kiss.

Jeonghan trembled underneath you, reciprocating your kiss with so much delicacy that it could break your heart. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

You stilled completely, your breath coiling in your throat. “Me too,” you finally confessed.

“It’s okay, baby,” he breathed, moving his arms so he no longer wrapped your body in them, but his hands gripped your hips, urging you to retake the motion that he so desperately needed.

So you did, swaying your hips on top of him, moaning sweetly when his hands roved all over your back, caressing your skin, his fingers trailing on the spot he knew your wings grew. You shuddered hard, sinking on his length with more urgency. “Jeonghan,” you moaned, crushing your mouth on him.

Jeonghan hummed in response, smiling at you when you broke the kiss off to see his face. The smile was of genuine bliss, mixed with the pleasure of being so utterly yours, forever. It was something similar to insanity what he felt, but he was aware of it, giving himself into it. “I love you,” he drawled lazily, his eyes glazing over the image of you on top of him.

“J-jeonghan,” you forced out, a euphoric wave swarming inside you, better than anything you had ever felt in your life.

And he felt it too, consuming him in fiery waves. “I love you,” he repeated, enjoying the feeling sizzling beneath his skin, lingering on the muscles of his face.

“F-fuck,” you grabbed onto the headrest of the couch, your fingers ripping into the fabric. “Please–,” you choked out, slamming your hips down on him, moaning out loudly as another orgasm hit you hard.

Jeonghan did not love you. Not like in fairy tales, or romance movies. But he was not lying either, you could feel the genuine calm of his realization as he drawled the words out. He could no longer resist it, nor keep the feeling to himself any further. Jeonghan did not love you, he was worshipping you wholly.

It was rapturing, if it was not before. You came on top of him, loudly, walls clamping around him, making him moan with you. His hands held your hips, urging him to keep moving them so he could also reach his high with you.

But the only thing he needed was to sneak a glance up your face, tears of pleasure brimming in your eyes as your orgasm shook hard inside you. That tipped him over the edge, pushing his hips up so he could spill himself deep inside your walls with a loud, raspy groan that resounded across the room.

“Jeonghan,” you kept moaning his name, hiding your face on the curve of his neck. Your breath fanning on his skin forced out a shudder that made you smile.

He responded with a smile of his own, but his was lazy, drunk over the euphoria coursing through you, the same that coursed through his. “I love you,” he whispered again, clutching your hips gently, moving his hands to your thighs.

Ever since you met him, his lust and need for you have been making you stronger. But now, the near maddening love that brimmed for you drove you to feel so full that you seemed to glow. You stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, breathing hard. He was still inside your body, relishing in the warmth, the wetness, the blissful look in your eyes.

Your hand slid beneath his chin, leaning towards him to prop a featherlight on his lips. “I love you too,” you breathed, feeling like a child who felt pure joy for the first time.

He cursed under his breath, his hands roaming all over your skin as you littered his face with kisses, trailing down to his neck where you sucked his skin into your mouth, marking red spots all over him. He chuckled lazily. “Ready for round three?”

“Mmn, I think I’ll pass out,” you said, giggling at yourself.

“Tired already?” he asked, searching your face with his gaze.

“It’s just…” you sighed, catching your breath but your heart stammered in your chest. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Didn’t you, really? Was it too much?” he hummed bringing his hands to cup your cheeks.

You shook your head slightly, pressing a palm to the back of his hand. “So is this your way to tell me you want this?” you asked.

Jeonghan went still for a second, his gaze lingering on the features of your face illuminated only by the warm light of the lamp. “The odds will be against us,” he said.

“Well I’m willing to bet on us,” you said with a light smirk. “Are you?”

Jeonghan nodded, the avid look in his eyes not quite brushing off. “I’m tired of running from this,” he slipped a hand on your nape, pulling you to a quick kiss. “I want you. I want it to be you and me, as we’re destined to be.”

You drew in a shaky breath, reciprocating the featherlight kiss. “Okay,” you whispered. “Then it’s us.”

“I want nothing more, baby,” Jeonghan said.

 You bumped the tip of your nose with his gently, eyeing him. “What about what you said? About not being able to be with me?”

“I don’t care. I’ll quit that life. I’ll stop hunting,” he muttered.

“And then what?” you mused.

“I can adapt quickly,” he replied, and you chuckled. “I’ll take up a boring human job, we could find somewhere to live in a small town. You’re not the only one who can blend in the human world, you know?”

Okay, you breathed, the glint in your eye told him that you were happy. It was the first time he saw that in you, the first time he had been the cause of that glint.

So he kept going. “I can take you to dates, take you to those fairgrounds, do normal boring shit humans do,” he muttered faintly, closing his lips on yours.

“You would do that, Jeonghan?” you asked softly, pulling back to see his face. “I mean, you would quit everything?”

“To be with you, I would.”

You leaned your face forward again, pressing your forehead with his. “I love you,” you mumbled, brushing his lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

Jeonghan shuddered gently, but everything inside him came alight with the strength of a thousand suns. Now, if he knew whether a demon could be capable of loving or not was beyond his lucidity at the moment. You were only capable of feeling such things after you first attempted to become human. So the concept of love was as new to you as it was to him.

“I love you,” he whispered back.

“Can we go to bed?” you asked sheepishly, fighting off the urge to nestle in his warmth, to press your nose against the crook of his neck. “I’m ready to pass out.”

“Let’s go to bed,” he replied, noticing the languor in your eyes, blinking slowly.

That was the first time Jeonghan held you through the night without wondering what the morning would bring. For the first time in knowing you, he did not feel guilty for nestling in your warmth.

He stared at your face as you both shared the bed. You were lying on your tummy, one arm draped over him, your head lying on his chest, sleeping soundly in his arms. He languidly brought the pads of his fingers to draw circles on your shoulder, earning soft hums and sighs from you.

He had never felt this happy.

The following morning, you were skipping town again. Jeonghan had woken up with the idea of searching for a town to settle down for a while, and in the meantime, you and him would start planning.

You were returning to the bedroom, draped in a bath towel, your hair damp as you watched Jeonghan grabbing your clothes and his from the night before. He was dressed already, clad in black clothes: jeans, boots, a sleeveless tank top and a zipper hoodie.

Jeonghan approached you to drop a featherlight kiss on your lips. “I’ll go downstairs to return the key,” he informed you. “See you in the parking lot.”

“Yeah, okay,” you whispered, closing your eyes to enjoy the light kisses he left on your face before he stepped back.

“Don’t take too long,” he advised, reluctant to step away from you. So much so that he came back, taking two steps towards you just so he could kiss you quickly, eliciting a joyful laugh out of you.

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” you replied, watching him leave the room finally.

Jeonghan sucked in a breath, shuddering from the cold air receiving him as he went down the stairs. First, he crossed the parking lot in front of the motel, opening the door to his car to leave your bag on the passenger seat. Closing the door, he walked back to the front desk where he rang the buzzer, propping his elbows on the high top and waited.

He felt you before you could even make it to him, drawing a smile on his face when you hugged him from behind. “Go to the car, I’ll be there in a minute,” he mumbled, turning over his shoulder to see your face.

You showed him a playful smile, standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Don’t take too long,” you whispered, turning away to cross the parking lot to where his car was parked.

He rang the buzzer again, tapping his fingers impatiently. He looked around, but no one was to be seen or heard around the place. In fact, it was too quiet for a Friday night in a motel. Something’s not right, he thought, leaning over the desk, only to discover that there were no personal items, nothing to indicate that anyone was working in the place.

He focused his hearing, the noise coming from the ice machine making it harder to find another sign of life around him. But the fact was, there was no one else around. His heart sunk to his stomach.

“Jeonghan?” you called, worry echoing in your voice.

He turned around, facing the parking lot. It was too late. “Run!” Jeonghan bellowed from the opposite side, starting to run towards you as two hunters emerged from the thicket of trees, grabbing you. One of them seized you with his arms, while the other brought his fist to the center of your face, knocking you out on the spot.

He would have been able to reach you, but another hunter got to him first, knocking him to the hard ground, making it impossible for him to fight back, or to stop the hunter from getting his car keys out of his pocket.

So he watched as you were shoved into the trunk of his own car, and the two hunters who had grabbed him got into it and drove away, leaving him with another hunter to fight against. And you, being taken from him. 

› author's note: heyoooooo

this has been such a ride huh. i never expected my short drabble to turn into series but i guess i should've known better lol

stay tuned for more!

!! PART FOUR !!

toodles

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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[wrestlingwiththoughts]

The Skyscrapers vs. The Ding Dongs (NWA Pro, July 18, 1989)

The Skyscrapers vs. Avalanch & Mike Blackwell (NWA World Wide Wrestling, August 5, 1989)

“Psycho” Sid Vicious vs. Lee Scott (NWA Main Event, August 15, 1989)

My reflexive answer to the question “What is your favorite match of all time” is KENTA vs. Bryan Danielson for the ROH World Championship from ROH Glory By Honor V Night 2 because it was 1) an incredible match 2) featuring Bryan Danielson, my favorite wrestler of all time 3) that was lucky to have seen live. Competitive epic matches like KENTA vs. Danielson are ideal combinations of athleticism and emotion that use physicality to heighten the drama that is only possible in professional wrestling.

Sometimes, however, you just need to see glistening and statuesque giants destroy the mortal men who, out of a desperate need for a quick check or simple hubris, try to measure their arms vis a vis their ability to box with God.

On this occasion, we revisit these three remarkable jobber matches to memorialize Sid Eudy, aka Sycho Sid, Sid Justice, Sid Vicious, and simply Sid. RD Reynolds wrote about both these tag matches for WrestleCrap’s Squash of the Week column, and they summed it up nicely in the review of the Skyscrapers vs. the Ding Dongs: “The match consisted of a few forearms, a kick, and only two more moves. Unfortunately for Ding and Dong, they would be these two moves: [gifs of a rough Spivey falling powerbomb and an even rougher Sid powerbomb].”

Sid worked best in these quick squashes that accentuated how larger than life he was. I am not interested in seeing Sid play at showing vulnerability. His power and presence are intense, and prolonged exposure is not ideal for him or us. Sid had IT, that ineffable quality that made him remarkable.

Similar to how the Kelvin and Rankine temperature scales are defined by a particle’s motion relative to absolute zero, Sid’s mightiness can only be defined relative to the poor schlub who’s jobbing for him that night. So, kudos to Lee Scott, who made Sid look like an impossible challenge, the Ding Dongs, who made Sid and Dan Spivey look vicious and dangerous, and poor Mike Blackwell, who made Sid and Spivey look minacious and hazardous to their opponents’ health.

[michaelsfavgirl]

innocence

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Wanting the best for his angel, Michael takes you to your dream vacation place and makes your first time unforgettable, more special than you could have imagined.

Tags: smut, virginity loss, teasing, dom!michael, sub!reader, fingering, oral (fem receiving), hand job, p in v, creampie, implied age gap, praise kink, bit of spit kink, mike's huge cock (yes, it needs it's own warning).

Word Count: 7.7k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: I won't write a part two to any other one-shot, however, when it comes to this one would you be interested in this becoming a little series where Michael teaches virgin!reader (well not anymore lol) how to ride him, give him a blowie etc.?

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After a while of lounging on the daybed next to the pool and conversing it gets dark, and your impatience is palpable. You playfully boop Michael's arm, looking up at him with wide, pleading doe eyes. Your eagerness is obvious, but Michael can't resist teasing you a little, acting as if he's oblivious to your earlier conversation.

He blinks innocently, tilting his head in mock confusion. "What's got you so worked up, little one?" he asks, a playful twinkle in his eyes. He knows exactly what you're thinking but can't resist teasing you.

Your cheeks heat up out of a mixture of frustration and anticipation. You lean closer to him. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," you whisper, not wanting to explicitly say what you're yearning for.

Michael's lips curl into a knowing smile. "Do I, now?" he says, his voice velvety and indulgent.

You huff in mock annoyance, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his arm. "Yes, you do," you reply, your yearning gaze meeting his. "You promised, remember?"

His smile deepens, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. "ooh” he says, his tone full of faux realization. "You mean... that promise."

You can't help but giggle, your exasperation melting into a softer expression. You playfully swat his arm. "Don't tease me like that," you chide, your voice a gentle plea.

Before he can say something witty, the rain begins to fall gently. Your playful annoyance is momentarily forgotten as Michael swiftly sweeps you off your feet, cradling you in his strong arms. You let out a surprised squeal, your heart racing as he carries you effortlessly into your bedroom, the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a breathtaking view of the now gloomy weather.

With careful tenderness, he sets you down on the plush bed. The rain outside has grown more insistent, the rhythmic patter against the window creating a comforting atmosphere. Michael's forehead rests against yours, his warm breath mingling with yours as he looks into your eyes, his gaze sincere and searching.

"Are you sure, baby?" he asks softly, his tone tender and full of concern. "This is a big step, I want you to be absolutely certain."

His willingness to wait and his insistence on your comfort have only solidified your trust in him. You reach up to gently cup his cheeks. "Michael," you say, your voice steady despite the fluttering of your heart, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want it. I want it with you."

A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with emotion. He brings his hand to cover yours on his cheek, a gesture of connection and reassurance. "Thank you, sweet girl. I promise I'll make this special." With a gentle, lingering kiss, Michael seals your agreement, his lips warm against yours.

Moving to sit on the bed, he settles you onto his lap, your bodies fitting together perfectly. Your playful squeal brings a fond smile to his lips. Kissing your neck, his lips brush against your sensitive skin, leaving short sweet kisses all over. In response, your breathy sigh sends a shiver down his spine.

His fingers trail along your hips, fingertips gently tracing the contours of your body. As he nibbles and sucks on your neck, he feels your body respond, your breathing growing more ragged with every kiss.

"Can I give you a little mark, baby?" he whispers against your skin. You look at him with wide, innocent eyes, needily nodding.

He presses his lips to your neck again, this time with a bit more fervor, gently licking and sucking on your neck, leaving a small purple mark behind. Your whimpers are more pronounced now, overwhelmed by new sensations.

As he pulls away, you whine and ask for another one, temporarily losing your shyness. "Another one?" he murmurs, his lips trailing lower along your neck. You whimper softly, your body leaning into his touch as if craving more. With a smirk, he complies, suckling another mark on your delicate skin, his fingers digging slightly into your hips as he does it.

Not feeling satiated enough, you ask for more, wanting to revel in this new feeling that's making you feel aroused. He hesitates for a moment, his arousal evident in the darkening gaze he fixes upon you. "Sweetheart, if I do another one, your neck will be all purple," he warns in an amusing tone.

But your eagerness is apparent as you beg for just one more, using your best puppy dog eyes to win him over. He groans softly, unable to say no to his precious girl.

"Alright," he relents, his voice a husky whisper. "One more, but then we'll have to stop." And so, with a final lingering nibble on your heated skin, he leaves one more hickey on your neck.

Laying you down on the bed gently, he looks into your eyes with a softness that makes you feel tingly. His voice takes on a playful, tender quality as he whispers, "Can I kiss you all over, sweet girl?"

You nod your head and suck in a breath when he bends down slightly and kisses his way from your collarbone to your chest. He presses tender kisses to your soft breasts through the fabric of your bikini. Sliding his warm hands up your body, he cups one of your tender breasts, making you gasp. He smirks at your reaction and moves lower, his lips finding your tummy, pressing wet kisses on your skin while gently fondling your breasts. 

He grabs your thighs and boldly spreads your legs. He looks up at you, checking if you're okay with what he's doing. You nod eagerly to urge him to continue. He smiles and presses kisses to the soft skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh. You look up at the ceiling, feeling too shy to make eye contact with him.

As his lips leave a trail of small love marks across your thighs, he teasingly retreats and sits back down on his heels, which brings you out of your trance. Your whine of protest is met with a playful chuckle from him. He gently hushes you, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not stopping, I just want you to be absolutely ready."

His fingers trail along your cheek as he continues, "I won't do anything unless you're dripping wet and aching for me. Your pleasure and comfort come first, always." Ugh, he’s so damn perfect it makes you want to scream.

Looking down, he traces the outline of your soaked bikini bottoms with a teasing smirk, feeling the damp fabric cling to your pussy. “Please…” you say breathlessly. He groans under his breath, finding it difficult to resist you. His fingers dance along the edge of the bikini curiously. And then he finally slips his hand underneath, feeling how hot your skin is.

He lets his long fingers graze over your slick folds, feeling how puffy and swollen they've gotten from need. His touch elicits a broken gasp from you. Feeling desires take over, you clench your little hole around nothing, desperately wanting him to slip his fingers into you and make you feel good. The wet squelching sound of your pussy makes his cock twitch in his shorts.

He can see the desperation in your eyes. But he is determined to prolong the delicious torment, to ensure that every moment is etched into your memories.

"Patience, my love," he murmurs against your ear, his voice a low, seductive whisper. You buck your hips, the tingling sensation between your legs making it unbearable to wait any longer.

He slowly removes your bikini top, big, strong hands peeling it off your warm body. You stare at his every movement, mesmerized by how confident he seems. He exposes your tits, and the sight of them makes his breath catch in his throat.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers.

He doesn't give you time to react as he wraps his lips around one nipple, gently sucking while his other hand kneads your other breast. He worships them, his lips and tongue lavishing attention on your sensitive flesh, his fingers and mouth lightly pinching and teasing your nipples until they stand erect. You moan, never having been touched like this.

“Can I?” he asks as he tugs on your bikini bottom.

“Yeah,” that's all you manage to say before laying your head further on the pillow, feeling your cheeks heat up.

He lays down on his stomach and takes off your bottoms. The sight of your wet, puffy pussy makes his heart race. Fuck, you’ve got the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He spreads your legs wider, his gaze drawn to how your slippery clit and small hole are visible between your soft folds.

He revels in the scent of your arousal. You feel so vulnerable as his fingers gently spread your swollen folds apart, revealing more of your cunt. Your small, tight entrance seems to beckon him. It’s so small he can barely see it; how is he going to fit his meaty cock in you?

You whimper meekly as he keeps staring at your glossy cunt, your wetness dripping down your slit. Finally sure that you truly want this, he gives your sensitive, untouched clit slow kitten licks, eliciting a sweet moan from you. But as he envelops your clit in his lips, sucking and licking your nub, your sounds become more explicit. Happy that your pussy is getting some much-needed attention.

Michael detaches his lips from your clit and replaces it with his thumb. He circles your virgin hole with his warm tongue, teasing you. You whine from desperation, pushing your hips towards his mouth. He pinches your inner thigh as a warning; he's the one in control, don’t be greedy. He slowly slides his tongue into your tight hole. As your slick touches his taste buds, he groans into your pussy, already addicted to your taste, so sweet and mouthwatering.

Good luck trying to stop him from eating you out every chance he gets, from now on.

His own hunger grows with each taste of you, his tongue becoming bolder as he explores the depths of your wet walls. The sensation of your tight hole squeezing around his tongue drives him wild, along with how your slick covers his lower face.

You whine as he pulls away from you. But before you can complain, he brings two of his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them slowly. His eyes focus on yours as you notice a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, taking in your appearance—half-lidded eyes, lips parted, breathing heavily. He wishes he could freeze this moment.

Taking his now spit-covered fingers, he places them at your entrance. “Gonna ease my way in, baby, okay?” you nod enthusiastically.

Slowly, he pushes his fingers into your tight hole, feeling your walls stretch around them. You whimper as you try to get used to the foreign feeling. “You’re doing so well, little one,” he reassures you, wanting you to feel as comfortable as possible. He starts to steadily pump his fingers into your drooling hole, your essence making everything more slippery. You try to suppress your moans, but the way he so deliciously scissors his long fingers into you for the first time doesn't make it so easy.

A seductive smile graces his lips as he looks up at your blissed-out state, his fingers continuing their relentless rhythm inside you. The lewd, dirty words he keeps whispering seem to fuel your desire. You feel like you might cry from how good it feels already.

After a bit, with your consent of course, he adds a third finger, making your breath hitch and heart beat faster, if that's even possible at this point. And then, he carefully adds a fourth finger, feeling your tightness stretch around him. You try to close your legs from the slight burning sensation, but his other hand keeps them pried open.

“I know it hurts a little, but I need to make sure that you’ll be able to take my cock, okay sweetheart?” he asks in that gentle voice that always makes you melt.

As he keeps sliding his fingers inside you he knows he needs to do something to ease the tension, so he gets closer to your drenched pussy and wraps his lips around your clit once more, sucking on your button while simultaneously stimulating your hole. You keep bucking your hips, trying to chase the high that's so near. 

Michael can also tell so he speeds up his movements, wanting nothing more than to see his girl in the throes of pleasure. “Are you close sweetheart?” he muffles against your swollen folds, not wanting to stop his ministrations even for a second. Not even having enough strength to nod, you simply whine and clench around his fingers. 

He keeps the pace steady as he watches you throw your head back and shamelessly gush on his fingers, filthy sounds leaving your innocent mouth. You look so angelic, breathing uneven, nipples erect, it takes everything in him not to make you cum immediately again, but he knows you need a minute to catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls his fingers out from your quivering entrance, he marvels at the sight of his fingers glistening with your cum. He brings his fingers to his lips, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and he sensually licks your creamy wetness from his fingers, savoring the taste of you.

Your cheeks flush with a deep shade of red, unable to say anything, your innocent gaze meeting his intense one. He can see a mixture of embarrassment and arousal in your eyes. He continues to suck on his fingers, his tongue swirling over the remnants of your wetness.

He slowly withdraws his fingers from his mouth. With a playful glint in his eyes, he kisses your lips tenderly. He can feel your surprise as your own taste meets your lips, and he can't help but chuckle softly at your reaction.

Your cute squeal and the way you pull away only add to his amusement. "Mmm, you taste so good," he murmurs in a husky voice, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I could barely bring myself to stop. But I wanted to save some for later." His words are infused with a teasing tone, his lips brushing against yours in a light, affectionate kiss.

Michael tries to kiss you again, but he can feel your shyness as you move your head, avoiding his attempt. Your innocence is endearing to him, and he understands your hesitations. But he also knows that a little teasing could go a long way in pushing your boundaries.

As he slides his fingers back into your tightness, your gasp of surprise only fuels his desire. He thrusts his fingers gently a few times, watching your reaction closely. Then, as he withdraws them and presents them to your lips, he can't help but let out a low groan at the sight of your blushing.

"Come on, little one," he teases, his voice low and husky. "I promise it's not as naughty as you think. Just a little taste," he adds with a smirk, "Or I might just have to be a little greedy and have it all for myself."

He watches as your blush deepens, your gaze meeting his. When you slightly open your mouth, he slides his fingers in, his own breath catching at the sight of your lips wrapping around his fingers. The sensation of you sucking on his fingers sends a jolt of desire through him, and he can't help but let out a soft moan.

"Good girl," he praises gently, his fingers moving in your mouth with a controlled rhythm. "You're a fast learner, aren't you? Sucking so eagerly..." His words are laden with innuendo. He continues the teasing motion for a moment longer before finally withdrawing his fingers, a satisfied grin on his lips.

Straightening up, he positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs as he watches your reactions closely. All this makes you feel needy again, and he can see the frustration building up within you as you impatiently buck your hips against nothing, your desire evident in your every movement.

He can't resist teasing you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "What is it that you want, sweet girl?" he asks, his voice velvety. "Tell me."

“Need you,” you mewl quietly.

“Need what, baby?” he taunts. He wants you to say it.

“Need…need your cock,” you whisper, your shyness coming back.

"You need my cock, hmm?" he murmurs, satisfied with your answer.

His hands trail up your inner thighs, fingers gently grazing over your soft skin before kneading the warm flesh. He has been thoroughly enjoying the time he’s spent teasing you, watching you squirm and whimper under his touch. As he continues, he can't help but notice how your slick is creating a damp spot on the sheets beneath you.

Seeing your eagerness, he decides to give you a small taste of what you crave. He smirks down at you, his fingers momentarily stilling their movements. "You want to see it, don't you?" he teases, his voice low and seductive. "My cock?"

Oh my... this is actually happening to you.

He chuckles softly. "My angel…," he purrs, his tone carrying a mixture of pride and anticipation. "You're about to have all your fantasies come true, my innocent little one." Your newly stretched hole drools at his words, a clear indication of just how worked up you're becoming.

"But remember, baby," he adds, his voice a husky whisper, "I'm going to take my time with you. I want to make sure you're absolutely ready for me." He can feel his own excitement building, his cock straining against his shorts as he imagines finally giving you what you crave.

Without wasting more time, he teasingly removes his swim trunks and settles himself between your thighs. Your eyes widen as your gaze falls upon his impressive cock, a mixture of curiosity painting your features. He can't help but notice the way your breath hitches.

His hard cock is proudly on display, its size and girth intimidating you. He watches as your eyes travel along its length, taking in every detail. He smirks as he sees your glossy pussy clench, your body instinctively reacting to the sight before you. It’s so thick that it can’t fully straighten. A thin layer of foreskin partially covers his wet tip, which is leaking pre-cum. A few noticeable veins here and there. His round, juicy balls hang beneath, looking heavy and suckable.

He's huge, and when I say huge, I mean it. At least 9 inches and extremely fat.

"First time seeing a cock, huh?" he muses, a hint of smugness in his tone. You look up at him, jaw on the floor. You had suspicions that he was above average, but this is not what you expected. Not that you're complaining though.

He can't resist pushing the teasing further, seeing how your innocent eyes widen as he pulls back his foreskin, exposing the sensitive head of his cock. His fingers move lazily, a slow and deliberate pumping motion that causes his thick shaft to throb, more of his pre-cum dripping out.

As a droplet of his precum glistens on the tip of his cock, he lets it fall, landing directly onto your puffy clit. Your gasp inflates his ego. He grins mischievously, his voice dripping with playful arrogance, "Enjoying the view, sweetheart?"

He leans in closer seductively, "Your little hole is so small, I can barely see it. But don't worry, my big cock is going to stretch you out and fill you up completely." He punctuates his words with another slow pump of his cock, making sure you can see every inch of him.

With a final teasing tug at his shaft, he releases his cock and shifts his position, bringing himself closer to you. His eyes lock onto your blushing face as he poses the question, "Do you want to touch it, baby?" His voice is low. Licking your lips hungrily, you say yes.

Gently, he guides you, lifting you and placing you on your knees before him on the bed. He positions himself in front of you, his lengthy cock proudly erect. Taking your delicate hand in his, he guides it towards his pulsing dick, his fingers gently curling your smaller ones around the base.

Your fingers barely make it halfway around his girth. Feeling anxious from all the new sensations, you mutter to yourself. “It’s heavy,” he manages to hear you and grunts. "Mmm, that's because it's so big, sweet girl," he replies, his voice laced with need.

Encouragingly, he whispers, "Now, give it a little squeeze." His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer. Your hesitant touch only fuels his arousal, your inexperience driving him wild. You can feel more of your slick pooling between your folds.

But he doesn't want you to feel overwhelmed. Gently, he places his larger hand over yours, guiding your movements, showing you how to stroke his thick length. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his breath hitching as your fingers move along his cock.

“Spit on it.”

He sees you hesitate as he requests you to spit on him, sensing your shyness. You bite your lip, your face flushed with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. As your grip on his cock loosens, he offers you gentle encouragement, his voice soft and coaxing. "You can do it, little one. Just a little bit, make it messy."

As you collect your saliva, you do as he says, but unfortunately, your saliva ends up on your fingers rather than his cock. He senses your embarrassment, and your teary eyes tug at his heartstrings.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispers tenderly, his fingers gently wiping away your tears. "You're doing just fine, baby. Remember, you're new to this," He plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

He cups your cheeks, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "I'm not upset, okay? You're doing amazing, and I'm so proud of you." His thumbs brush away your remaining tears before he gently urges you to try again.

When your spit finally lands on his cockhead, his groan of approval is deeply gratifying. He praises you with a delighted chuckle, his hand squeezing your body affectionately. "That's my girl. Good job, baby. Now, spread that delicious spit all around for me."

As you follow his guidance, your strokes create wet, naughty sounds. Your bashful reaction, hiding your face in his chest, only makes his cock harder. He holds you close, your bodies pressed together firmly, and whispers words of admiration into your ear. "That's it, sweetheart, keep stroking. Show me how good you can make me feel." His words are soothing, easing your nerves as he guides you through the sensual act.

After a bit your hand grows tired from the prolonged play. He can't help but find your whimpering adorable. "Aw, my sweetheart, is your hand tired?" he coos, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Don't worry, we've had enough of playing with my cock for now."

He lays you down gently on the bed, settling between your spread legs, his eyes locked onto your drenched pussy. The sight of your glistening folds drives him wild.

Teasing you, he traces a finger close to your cunt, just barely grazing your swollen clit. Your hips instinctively buck, and you let out a desperate whine. "You've been such a good girl, waiting so patiently. I think you've earned your reward, don't you?"

His fingers lightly trace patterns on your inner thigh, skirting oh so close to your glossy center. "Tell me, baby, do you want me to finally take you? Do you want to feel my cock stretch your little pussy?" He asks seductively. You nod your head eagerly and stare hungrily at his stiff cock.

He spreads your legs even farther apart, anticipation building within you. He presses the tip of his heavy, thick cock against your tiny hole, feeling your slick coating his sensitive head. His fingers dig into your soft hips as he attempts to push himself into your virgin pussy, the tightness and resistance driving him wild.

You whine from the pressure of him trying to slip his dick into you. Grabbing onto the sheets, you shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the burning sensation. He struggles to fit his tip inside you, and you can see his brows furrowed in concentration, which makes your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, but if you only knew how much your inexperience is turning him on.

"You're so damn tight, little one. I can barely even get the tip in."

He grunts from the resistance, finding it more difficult to ease his cockhead in than he anticipated. But with a quick warm smile thrown your way, he finally manages to push the tip in, spreading your pussy lips around his bulbous tip. You gasp, your breathing picking up as you try not to look him in the eyes.

"Look at you," he purrs, his hand cupping your face to make you face him, his eyes locked onto yours. "So untouched... It's almost too much for my cock to handle." he feels his pre-cum oozing out of him in large globs. Your warm gummy walls enveloping him so nicely.

He pulls out slightly, giving you a chance to breathe, then slowly slides his back in. He continues this slow, teasing rhythm, only pushing in the tip and then completely pulling out to watch your hole close. He maintains the slow, tantalizing pace, his gaze locked onto yours as he rocks a bit further with each shallow thrust, savoring the sensation of your warmth squeezing him so good.

He continues to try and slide more of his meaty cock inside your slippery pussy, the tightness and resistance making his eyes flutter and roll back. He is careful not to hurt you though. As he persists, you whine, a mixture of discomfort and the beginnings of pleasure finding you. Your innocence and vulnerability tug at his heartstrings, and he pauses, looking into your eyes with genuine concern.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks softly, his voice filled with tenderness.

Tears well up in your eyes as you nod, your voice trembling as you speak, "I-I'm okay, just... it's a little painful."

He can't bear to see you in pain, so he leans down and gently kisses your lips, his hand reaching to softly caress your cheeks.

"I've got you," he murmurs against your lips. "I'll make it as gentle as possible."

With a reassuring smile, he intertwines his fingers with yours, your hands clasping tightly. He resumes his slow and careful movements, gradually inching his lengthy cock deeper into your slick walls. You squeeze his hand tightly.

As more of him slips inside you, he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth. He wants to distract you from the discomfort, to show you that he is there for you every step of the way.

He pauses, his thick cock buried about halfway in. He leans down and captures your lips in a tender kiss, his hips gently rolling to maintain the connection between you. He can feel your tightness around his cock, and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to fuck you senseless.

As he stares at where you’re connected he groans from the sights, your folds stretched wide around his thick shaft, your milky essence smeared all over his cock. He can't help but marvel at the sensation of your pulsing walls. Your tightness is almost overwhelming, and he can see a mix of pleasure and discomfort on your face.

He leans down and kisses you softly, his hips making slow, shallow movements to let you adjust to his size. "I know, sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs against your lips, whispering sweet reassurances and dirty encouragement in your ear.

He continues to push himself into you, little by little, until he finally bottoms out with a deep groan. You moan as you watch him close his eyes, his curls hovering over your face. Your cunt is stretched to its limits by his thick, girthy cock.

He relishes in the sight of you, your delicate flesh tightly hugging his dark shaft, your innocence now forever claimed by him.

As he begins to move within you, his hips rocking back and forth, he presses his coily pubic hair against your puffy clit, earning a gasp and a shiver from you. His round, juicy balls press against your ass cheeks, making you squirm.

You bury your face in his chest, your moans muffled against his skin as he continues to pump his cock inside you. You feel like your body is on fire, overwhelmed from the pleasure of finally being claimed by Michael.

He kisses the top of your head, his voice a soothing murmur. "You're doing so well, my love. Just relax and let me take care of you."

For a split second he pulls out, which makes you pout. He teasingly slaps his heavy cock against your swollen clit, the sensation making you gasp.

"Such a sensitive little clit," he chuckles, his voice laced with desire.

Not wanting to have you start whining, he thrusts back into you, groaning at the way your wetness coats his shaft and makes it glisten and drip down his heavy balls.

He picks up the pace slightly, a hunger evident in his movements. As your body moves along with his,your legs wrapped around his hips, he can't resist reaching for your soft skin, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh.

"God, you're so beautiful," he groans, his eyes locked onto the way your body moves under his touch. You blush.

You whimper, your voice laced with shyness. "Michael..."

He coaxes you gently, his breath hot against your ear. "That's it, baby. Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

Feeling more confident you let loose a little, not suppressing your noises. Moaning and calling his name next to his ear. Telling him you’re all his.

"Yes, that's it," he purrs, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your voice grows more desperate. "F-feels so good, please…" the sound of skin slapping overwhelming your senses.

"You're mine, and I'm here to worship you, to give you everything you've ever wanted."

His words are like a spell, casting you deeper into a world of pleasure and submission. Your heart races, your body arching to meet his every thrust. You can feel his desire coursing through his veins, his need to please you, to make you feel like a princess.

"You own me, sweetheart," he continues, his voice husky. "You can have anything you want, anything you desire. Just tell me, and I'll make it happen. You're in control now, and I'm at your mercy."

Oh. my. Fucking. god.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes almost pop out of their sockets from his words. His promises, the way his cock so deliciously rolls inside your slick pussy, it's all just so overwhelming. You meet his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing.

"I want to make you feel like royalty, baby," he murmurs, his rhythm never faltering. "You deserve nothing but the best, and I'm going to give it to you. Every touch, every kiss, every inch of my cock inside you—it's all for you."

You dig your nails onto his shoulders, unable to say something back as pleasure takes over you. His words are a declaration of his devotion, and you can't help but surrender to the offer, always having wanted to be spoiled. You feel a sense of completeness you had never known before. You're his, and he's yours.

He continues to pump his fat cock into you, your squelching hole adding to the intensity. But greed is tugging at your heartstrings, and you can't help but let out whimpers of frustration. He senses your restlessness, but he's determined to be cautious and gentle with you.

"Please," you whimper, your voice tinged with need and desperation. "I want all of you."

He sighs, knowing where this conversation is headed. "Baby, I've told you, you need to be patient," he scolds gently.

You pout, your lower lip jutting out in a stubborn manner. "But I want it all, Michael. I can take it, I promise."

He raises an eyebrow, his tone firm. "You're not listening, little one. You can't rush this."

You let out a whine that tugs at his nerves, but he holds his ground. "It's gonna take time, a few weeks maybe, for you to fully take my cock." Yep, he’s that huge.

Your whining only intensifies, your frustration and desperation evident. "I don't want to wait weeks. I want it now."

He leans in closer, his voice taking on a dominant edge. "Listen to me, sweetheart. Taking all of my cock right now is unrealistic for your first time. You need to relax and let your body adjust."

You huff, untangling your legs from his hips. "You're being mean," you mutter.

He chuckles softly, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I'm not being mean, baby. I'm being honest and realistic."

"But- but… ugh," you whine again.

He smirks, "You're such a spoiled, greedy girl, aren't you?"

Your cheeks flush, but you don't back down. "Yes, and?" you retort.

With a sigh, he gives in slightly, sliding a little more of his length inside you. You gasp, your body trembling as you adjust to the stretch.

He decides it's time to remind you of your place, to show you who's in control. In one swift motion, he plunges himself fully into you, all nine inches filling you to the brim.

You gasp, mouth agape, your back arching as a mixture of pleasure and discomfort washes over you. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to the sensation, his dark eyes fixed on your face.

"See, baby?" he whispers, his voice low and commanding. "I knew you couldn't handle it."

You grit your teeth, determined to prove him wrong. "I can, I can take it." Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.

Rolling his eyes, he begins to thrust slowly. But after a few moments, he can see the pain in your eyes, the way your brows furrow and your lips tremble.

Without a word, he withdraws slightly, going back to sliding only half of his cock. He keeps his pace steady, his grip on your hips tight as he continues to move inside you.

"You need to be honest with me, sweetheart," he scolds gently, his voice a mixture of concern and authority. "I can tell when something's wrong. Don't push yourself too hard."

You nod, your stubborn facade finally giving way to the truth. "It hurts a little, but I want to take all of it."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers in a low, dominant tone, "Well, you're not gonna get it all right now. And you know what? My cock isn't going anywhere. You'll have plenty of time to take every inch, little by little."

You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back against the pillows. "You're so frustrating."

He chuckles again, his hand caressing your cheek. "I know, baby. But it's for your own good."

You sigh, your head resting comfortably on the pillow. "Okay, fine. I'll try to be patient."

"That's my girl," he says, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "Now, let's focus on making you feel good, okay?"

Your pout slowly turns into a small smile as he resumes his gentle thrusts, his dominant teasing having its desired effect. As he grinds his hips against yours, he makes sure to keep a close eye on your reactions, determined to ensure your pleasure and comfort.

He can't help but be captivated by you. Your body glistening with a layer of sweat, your pussy coated in your shared creamy wetness. He groans at the erotic sight. His stiff cock slides effortlessly into your slick folds.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leans down and spits right onto your swollen clit, the wetness mixing with your juices and sliding down your folds. He repeats the action a few times, each drop of saliva making you gasp and your pussy clench around him.

"Such a dirty girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "You love how messy and wet it gets, don't you?"

You let out an embarrassed moan, your cheeks flushing as you try to deny it. "N-No, I don't..." You bite your lip, your breath hitching as you struggle to form a coherent response. "I... I just... It's..."

He nips at your earlobe, his voice a seductive purr. "Say it. Admit how much you love it."

Your voice comes out in a soft whimper, barely audible. "I... I love it."

He groans in response, the confirmation driving him wild. "That's it, baby. Doing so good for me."

You moan softly as his movements intensify, your fingers clutching the sheets beneath you. "Michael..."

He nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing your heated skin. "Let go, my precious. Feel it all."

Michael's thrusts take on a more deliberate rhythm, his lengthy, thick cock filling your tiny virgin pussy with each deep thrust. His fingers rub your pulsing pearl swiftly, and you shut your eyes from how good it feels, your lips swollen from how much you've bitten down on them.

"There you go," he teases. "You love it, don't you? You love how my big cock fits perfectly in your needy hole."

Yes, you want to scream but the overwhelming pleasure stops you from it. Poor thing, you just want to say how much you like it, but your fuzzy state clouds your mind. How cute.

As you lose yourself to the euphoria, your moans become more uninhibited, louder, shameless. His own groans of pleasure resonate in the room. He knows you're getting close, so he rewards you by pushing his cock deeper into your tight warmth.

The sensation is almost overbearing for you, and your voice wavers between a gasp and a moan. You're so fucking close. Your heart races, and your breathing grows erratic, a single tear escaping and rolling down your flushed cheek. Noticing, he brings his face closer to yours and kisses it away, tasting the salty liquid on his tongue.

With his lips at your ear, he urges you on, his tone commanding and endearing. "Can feel you squeezing me, little one, c’mon, make a mess on my cock." His words drive you wild.

And then it happens. Your body trembles, and your legs shake. Your grip on him tightens, nails digging into his flesh, definitely leaving a mark. Your moans turn into cries. He watches the orgasm wash over you, your head thrown back with your mouth hanging open. Beautiful is the only word on his mind.

He feels you clench around him, the pulsating grip of your virgin pussy against his cock driving him wild. So fucking tight. He lets you ride out your sweet release, continuing to grind gently into you, prolonging your pleasure.

As the waves of your climax slowly subside, he holds you close, your erect nipples pressed against his toned front as you tremble in his arms. His lips press to your temple in a tender kiss. He whispers soothing words, guiding you through this new experience.

"Shh, my sweet girl," he coos, his voice grounding you. "You're doing so well. Just let it all out. I've got you."

Your cries gradually transform into shuddering breaths, and he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his chest. He stops his movements.

As your trembling subsides, he tenderly kisses your lips, lips pressed against each others for a bit as if to reassure you. "You did amazing, sweetheart," he whispers with a soft smile on his face.

He shifts slightly, his big hands finding your flushed face. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. "You know, most girls wouldn't have been able to handle what you just went through. But you... you're something special." You feel so warm on the inside, knowing you made the right choice to give yourself to him.

He cups your cheeks, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. "I'm so proud of you," he continues, his voice low and comforting. You whimper softly as he still holds you in his protective arms.

"Now, it's time for me to fill you up completely. I'm going to give you all of me, just like you've given yourself to me."

He resumes pumping his girthy cock into your slippery walls. You whimper as you’ve become a little sensitive from your orgasm. The edge of his climax overwhelms his senses. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, leaving little pecks all over.

"I love you," he murmurs, the feeling of the burning sensation in his lower stomach making him stumble over words as he bares his heart to you. "You're my princess, my everything. I was made for you, to satisfy every craving, to fulfill every desire." Your eyes widen, not expecting him to get so vulnerable. But you can’t deny the butterflies in your own tummy.

Whimpering, his thrusts become more urgent, his control slipping as his climax approaches. His muscles flex as he chases his high, now his hands digging into your hips. You gently kiss his cheek as encouragement, not knowing what else to do as you’re new to the realm of intimacy. This brings him over the edge, and with a guttural moan, he releases himself inside your drooling cunt. His hot, creamy cum spills from his sensitive tip, filling you up completely. He feels his shaft pulse as he keeps leaking more and more of his sticky seed into your little hole. You pant from the new feeling of his warm essence coating your walls.

After a few seconds, he breathes out and stares at where you two are connected. He pulls out carefully. Cursing under his breath, his eyes fixated on the sight before him, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he watches his cum leak out of your stretched hole, down your asshole, and onto the sheets. He feels a surge of possessiveness, knowing that he had left his mark on you in the most intimate way possible.

Still breathing heavily, he leans down to connect his lips to yours. "You're mine now," he whispers against your face. "And I'm yours. Forever." Your eyes lock with his, and you can see

nothing besides honesty and adoration on his face which makes you feel loved and cherished in a way you’ve never experienced before. 

Gently, he scoops you up in his arms, your form fitting perfectly against his sturdy frame. He carefully carries you to the bathroom to clean you up before laying back down onto the bed again. His movements are careful and tender, like he's holding something fragile. As he lays you down, he can't help but notice the fatigue in your eyes.

He settles beside you, his body enveloping yours. His arms wrap around you, and he pulls you close. It's as if your bodies are meant to fit together like a puzzle.

He looks into your eyes, concern etched on his face. "Do your legs feel achy?” he asks softly, his voice a gentle rumble. God, he’s so perfect. Of course, he cares about your legs aching after being spread open for so long. His warm palm travels south as he cups your pussy in his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Is it achy here too?” he grins. 

You gasp and shake your head slightly, too drained to put your thoughts into words. Your eyelids are heavy, your body feeling sated after the intense experience you've shared. “Aw, my poor baby,” he leans down and kisses you on the forehead.

He holds you even closer to his chest, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Rest, my princess," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead. "You've had quite the night."

You manage a soft smile, your eyelashes fluttering as you fight against sleep. Your voice, barely above a whisper, reaches his ears. "Thank you... for making it special."

His heart swells at your words, the sincerity in your voice touching him deeply. "No, thank you," he whispers back. "Thank you for trusting me."

As you drift into slumber, nestled in his arms, he can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. The moonlight filtering through the window casts a gentle glow over your peaceful features, emphasizing the innocence and vulnerability that had captivated him from the start.

Gently caressing your cheek, the weight of his actions settles on him - he has taken your virginity, and he has done so with care and consideration. He wanted this to be a beautiful memory for you, something you will always cherish, and that's exactly what he did.

Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest as you sleep, your breaths even. It's a sight that fills him with a protective urge. Carefully, he adjusts the covers around you, ensuring you are comfortable. He knows that he holds your heart in his hands, and he intends to cherish it.

With a final caress, he whispers softly in your ear, "Sleep well, little one, I love you.”

In this quiet moment, he holds you with a possessive tenderness that speaks of his unyielding commitment. He is yours, body and soul, determined to be the best lover for you. And as you both rest in each other's arms, he knows he is exactly where he wants to be - with you, forever.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[theautisticbarbie]

A Bird of Praise

Act II

Chapter II: Summer Hues

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Word Count: 3,786

Chapter summary: Tara’s summer gets hot and heavy when the house across the street from her’s becomes occupied by the resident bad boy, a California transplant, one Billy Hargrove

Chapter warnings: SMUT! SMUTTY SMUT! SMUTTY WARBER JEAGER MAN JENSEN! MINORS GO AWAY! Okay but also dubcon, oral (f receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, overstimulation if you squint, Billy being kind of a douche, creampies, virginity loss, just overall filth. Porn with plot.

The rest of the school year was somewhat awkward for Tara after her and Jonathan’s breakup. One thing was clear, though, from the general way she was greeted whenever she went to pick Will up for his hangouts with Mike, Dustin and Lucas.

Joyce was not privy to their falling out, and by that extent, neither was Bob.

Once summer rolled around, the usual happened for Tara. Her weekend job became a weekday job, she had summer intensives with her school’s ballet team, her mother was constantly away from home because of summer travelling and Daniel was hanging out with friends from this “Hellfire Club” that he joined when the twins started high school. Tara didn’t know much about the club. Just that they played DnD.

There was one thing that happened that nobody on Tara’s whole block was expecting.

The house across the street from her’s was sold.

4819 Cherry Lane. Tara would have never thought the day would come. That house had been sitting vacant for close to three decades. The last family who lived there swore it was cursed and nobody’s touched it since.

Tara wondered with all of her might who on Earth would want that house.

She and her brother staked out the house from their living room on moving day once they saw the moving truck pull up.

“What if it’s a killer who needs a place to hide the bodies?” Tara asked, a hint of dread in her voice.

“Oh well yeah we all know that. We just need to know who to steer clear of,” Daniel said, half joking.

After staking out the move and examining what were very clearly just movers, a car pulled up. The moment of truth.

Out of the drivers seat was a middle aged man who looked pretty mundane and didn’t stand out from a crowd at all. From the passengers seat was a red headed woman who was clearly much younger than him.

“Who’s that?” Tara asked.

“Trophy wife, clearly,” Daniel snarked.

“That could be his daughter for all we know!” Tara chided.

“Then who is that coming out of the back seat?”

A little redhead girl, most likely the age of the party Tara chaperoned bounced out of the back seat.

Tara got a good look at them, but one thing stood out very clearly.

They clearly weren’t happy.

“I should go welcome them to the neighbourhood,” Tara offered, wanting to cheer them up.

“I get the distinct impression that they aren’t here because they want to be. Maybe you should just leave them be,” Daniel said.

Before Tara could offer a rebuttal, a blue car came darting down the road before coming to a screeching halt directly in front of the house.

“Holy shit!” Daniel remarked.

“I know, right? That’s so reckless! The driver could have killed them!” Tara berated.

“Dude! That’s a 1979 Chevy Camaro! How the hell was he able to make it go that fast and stop so clean?”

“Are you even listening?” Tara quipped.

Of course. Besides metal music, anime and Dungeons and Dragons, Daniel had one interest that was conventionally seen as “normal” for teenage boys, and that obsession was cars and motorcycles.

Daniel’s advice to give the new neighbours their space went out the window as soon as he saw that display.

Tara stood inside with her arms folded. She was quite cross with whomever was bold enough to endanger a family with their reckless behaviour.

Out of the vehicle stepped a boy about Daniel’s age with a strawberry blonde mullet, a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses.

And just like that, the sight of a handsome boy quelled all of Tara’s annoyances.

Daniel went outside to greet this stranger.

“Dude! Sick engine!” Daniel greeted.

“Who the hell are you?” the boy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh! Right!” Daniel said, flustered. “I’m Daniel! Your neighbour from just across the street,” he said, extending his hand.

The boy only looked at Daniel’s hand before turning around to go in the house.

“Just tell me which room’s mine, Neil!” the boy said.

Daniel pulled back his hand and looked at it, wondering where he went wrong when he introduced himself.

“I don’t get it!” he said later that day while Tara was gathering her stuff for ballet practise. She decided she was going to practise her fouettés in the front yard.

“Maybe he was uncomfortable. You DID come off pretty strong sizing up his car. Maybe he thought you were planning to steal it,” Tara said, poignantly.

“Oh fuck!” Daniel said, facepalming and realising that Tara was most likely correct.

While Tara was practising her fouettés, she noticed the boy from earlier stepping on his front yard, having a smoke and sizing up the girl.

Later that night, while they were having dinner, there was a knock at the door. Tara decided to answer to see the boy from earlier.

“Hi! Nice to see you again! Sorry about my brother, by the way. He’s such a weirdo when it comes to cars and motorcycles!” Tara took a breath and recentred herself. “I’m Tara, by the way.”

“Billy. I didn’t realise I lived across the street from a pretty girl. Guess I got lucky.”

Tara blushed. “So what brings you to my doorstep, Billy?”

“I figured a pretty girl like you could show me around town sometime. I’m not familiar with the area.”

“Oh really? Where are you from?” Tara asked curiously.

“California,” Billy answered, flashing a charismatic smile.

“Oh wow! I have a pen pal in California! Is it true that all the movie stars live there?” Tara asked with stars in her eyes.

“Quid pro quo, beautiful. You show me around this town and I’ll tell you everything there is to know about the west coast.”

“Would tomorrow work? It’s my day off!”

“It’s a date, gorgeous.”

The next day, Tara was lounging on the couch with a book, casually waiting for the agreed upon time for their agreed upon tour.

“Aren’t you supposed to be showing the new neighbour around town?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah, but that’s not for another hour,” Tara pointed out.

“And that’s what you’re wearing?” Daniel asked, pointing out that she’s dressed rather leisurely.

“Well, yeah. I imagine we’ll be doing a lot of walking and it’s super comfy! It’s not like it’s actually a date or anything! Mom told me that’s just something people say.”

“Uh, yeah, Tara. That’s exactly what he meant for this to be.”

The mortified look on Tara’s face and the silence that accompanied it were deafening.

“I can’t go out like this! I need to change!” she said, rushing to her bedroom.

“Big brother saves the day once again,” Daniel said, cracking open an RC cola and cracking open his manga.

“Being born 11 minutes before me does not make you my big brother!”

“It literally does.”

Tara frantically looked for the best outfit to make a good first impression for her date.

Billy, meanwhile, was also taking time to make himself look good. Cologne, extra time on his hair. The works.

Tara finally decided on an outfit, a yellow sundress with floral appliqués.

The time came and when Billy picked Tara up, he opened the car door for her and everything, leaving her pleasantly surprised. Jonathan never did that for her.

No. Jonathan wasn’t going to have space in Tara’s head today. Today was about her and the cute new boy who struck her fancy.

The date itself went pretty well. Tara showed Billy all of the landmarks, as well as Hawkins High School, where he would be going in the fall.

That’s how she learned that Billy lived with his father, Neil, his stepmother, Susan, and his stepsister, Max, who would be attending Hawkins Middle School in the fall.

“So why did you leave California? What brought you to our neck of the woods?” Tara asked curiously, eager to know more about her handsome date.

Billy visibly tensed after being asked that question, causing Tara to back down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine,” Billy finally said. “I guess my old man just wanted a change of scenery. I honestly don’t know what the hell he’s thinking half the time.”

Thankfully, that awkward bump was short lived, and the two finished off strong with dinner at Enzo’s.

After dinner, the two went back to Tara’s house.

“I had a great time,” Tara said, blushing.

“Who said it had to be over?” Billy asked, closing in for a kiss. “Why don’t you invite me inside?”

“Oh! Yes of course!” Tara said, opening the door, worried that she had broken some social norm. “Please come in!” Tara looked to the sides and noticed her brother’s motorcycle wasn’t in the driveway, so he must be with his Hellfire friends.

Billy let out an amused chuckle before coming inside.

Billy closed the door behind him and resumed kissing Tara.

The kissing became heavier and heavier, before Billy pulled away. “Why don’t we take this upstairs?”

Tara remembered her interaction with Jonathan and was able to surmise exactly what going upstairs entailed.

Tara was still a virgin, but on the other hand, Billy was really handsome and she would love for her first time to be with someone like him.

All the same, he had a right to know.

“I would love to,” Tara started, “but first, there’s something you need to know.” Tara drew a sharp breath. “Okay, here goes. I’m a virgin, so I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“No problem,” Billy said. “I’m happy to lead the way.”

Billy took Tara’s hand and led her upstairs. “Just tell me which room is yours, madame.”

Once the two were in her bedroom, the kissing resumed.

“Do you have a condom?” Tara asked.

“We don’t need one. I’m clean and you can’t get pregnant if you’re a virgin.”

“You can’t?” Tara asked naively.

“Nope. A virgin body doesn’t have the necessary components to hold a pregnancy. That doesn’t come until after a few fucks.”

Perhaps if Tara read less fairytales and history and more anatomy and biology, she wouldn’t have thought she was bleeding to death when she got her first menstrual cycle and she would know that everything Billy is saying right now is absolute rubbish.

“Well, as long as we’re being safe,” Tara said as she naively kissed him.

“Of course, gorgeous.”

Billy gently kissed her hand, trailing kisses up her arm to her shoulder before kissing her neck and placing hickies along from her windpipe to her jawline.

Tara closed the gap between them and kissed him deeply, which he reciprocated. Their tongues battled for dominance before Billy swept her up, tossing her onto her bed.

Tara felt something tingling between her legs, tightly rubbing them together.

Billy hovered over her, sliding his hand between her legs and rubbing her over her panties.

The sensation she was met with caught her off guard, making her throw her head back.

Billy let out a soft chuckle before planting a kiss on her lips, dipping his hand into her panties.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.”

“Wet?” Tara panted, confused, promoting Billy to slide his middle finger into her opening.

Tara shrieked at the sudden intrusion, causing Billy to let out a raspy chuckle. “You really are a virgin, huh?”

Tara gasped as Billy placed open mouth kisses onto her, taking in the smell and taste of cigarettes, along with the addition of Billy’s ring finger entering her.

“Just relax, gorgeous,” he said as he began scissoring her open.

Daniel touted about how great sex was and how amazing it felt. Tara had even occasionally overheard him when some nameless, faceless girl spent the night with him only to be gone before she came down for breakfast.

But this didn’t feel amazing at all. It felt overwhelming and even a bit painful.

“Wait! Billy! Stop! This hurts!” Tara finally uttered.

Billy cooed at her almost mockingly. “I know, sweetie, but it’s only for a bit, and then it’s pure bliss afterwards.”

Tara whimpered as he continued his ministrations.

“Come on, gorgeous. You said it yourself. You’re gonna be 17 in November. That’s kinda old to still be a virgin, don’t you think?”

Maybe Billy was right, Tara thought. Maybe this was like a blood draw or a shot, or being held down or sat on when she had a meltdown or threw a tantrum, where it doesn’t matter if it hurts. It has to be done.

Billy scissored her open one last time before removing his fingers, licking them clean. He peeled her panties off before tossing them to the side. Her pussy was beet red from all of the stimulation, her clit was swollen and sensitive to the touch. Billy gently brushed a finger against her sensitive nub, making her cry out.

Suddenly, he pulled her upright, before pulling her dress up and over her head and off her body, tossing it to the side. He ran a hand over her back, stopping at her bra, kissing her deeply before unclasping it, tearing it away and exposing her breasts.

Tara suddenly realised how nude she was and covered herself with her arms.

“Ah ah ah,” Billy tutted, grabbing her arms and pulling them off her body. “You don’t get to act all shy after my fingers have been in your pussy.”

“Shouldn’t you take your clothes off, too?” Tara asked, her face reddening.

“Calm down, Eager Beaver. We’re getting there.”

“It’s Eager McBeaver.”

“I know what I said,” Billy quipped, lying her down on the bed again.

Billy grabbed her leg and kissed up to her thigh, closing in on her swollen clit before giving it a few kitten licks.

Tara threw her head back. This had to be what Daniel was referring to. This actually did feel nice.

Billy took the bud into his mouth and proceeded to suck it HARD.

Tara cried out as her body jolted with the sudden pleasure.

Suddenly, Billy popped his mouth off and went back to lapping at her clit.

Tara was gasping in pleasure as he continued.

“Cum for me,” he said, taking the bud into his mouth again, putting his middle and ring finger inside of her, fingering her for good measure.

Tara was overwhelmed by pleasure, eventually reaching her peak and crying out.

Billy removed his fingers, licked them clean and began unbuttoning his shirt.

By the time Tara regained her bearings, Billy was down to his boxers. His body was sweaty and he was hungrily looking down at her with a tent between his legs.

He pulled them down, allowing his cock to spring free. The tip was angry red and it was absolutely weeping with pre-cum.

One thought went through Tara’s mind as he pumped his shaft. How in the world was all of that possibly going to fit inside of her?

“Uh, Billy… how big is that?” Tara asked, a hint of fright in her voice.

“10 inches. You’re the third person to ask.”

Tara looked up at him and swallowed thickly, to which he responded with a gentle kiss to the forehead. “Don’t worry, babe. I know what I’m doing.”

Billy’s hands wandered to Tara’s fairly large breasts and he pinched her nipples hard, causing her to jolt up. He then slotted himself between her legs, rubbing his tip along her slit.

“Deep breath, princess.”

Tara took a deep breath and held it, screwing her eyes shut and waiting for the moment to come.

Billy pushed his head past her entrance, moaning in ecstasy as her pussy lips wrapped around his girth. When he felt her hymen, he pulled back and slammed forward as hard as he could, snapping their hips together.

Tara’s eyes flew open as she let out a strangled cry, tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

Billy gently shushed her as he stroked her face. “It’s okay. It’s all over now. From here on out, it’s pure bliss.”

Billy paused, giving her time to adjust to his size, before he began thrusting.

The sounds of the bed creaking and the headboard banging against the wall polluted the room with Billy’s husky moans.

The burning sensation Tara felt eventually turned to pleasure, eliciting orgasmic cries.

Tara held onto Billy’s back for dear life as he picked up the pace, panting and moaning into her ear.

“You’re not a virgin anymore,” he panted. “From now on, you’ll be my little sex slave.”

He lifted his head, looking Tara dead in the eyes. “Say it,” he said, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust.

Now wait just a darn second, Tara thought. Since when was she going to agree to sexual slavery to a man she just met yesterday?

“Say it!” Billy demanded, thrusting harder.

“I…”

Billy smirked. “What’s a matter, princess? Dick got your tongue?”

The squelching noises were absolutely obscene. Their bodies were covered in sweat.

It all came to a head when Billy’s hips began to falter. “Oh fuck… shit… Tara! I’m gonna…” he thrusted as hard as he can. “Gonna cum! Fuck!”

A string of curses flew out of Billy’s mouth as he shot thick hot white ropes into Tara’s cervix.

Eventually, he collapsed beside her head, panting heavily into her ear.

“Fuck… that was… fuck…”

“Is that a good thing?” Tara asked, also catching her breath.

“Hell yeah it is.”

After the two caught their breath, Billy rolled off of her and reached for his boxers.

“Hey, do you maybe wanna cuddle and spend the night?” Tara offered.

“Wish I could, princess,” Billy started, putting his clothes back on, “but Neil said he would break every bone in my body if I didn’t finish unpacking the boxes in my room by tomorrow. Some other time, though. We definitely have to do this again,” he finished, kissing Tara on the forehead.

“By the way, uh…” Billy started as he put his leather jacket back on, “you might wanna take it easy for the next few days. You’re gonna be sore down there for a while.”

The next morning, while Tara was making iced coffee for herself, she looked at her brother, who was cooking bacon and scrambled eggs.

“Hey, Daniel, can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?”

“Do… when you have sex… do girls ask you to say weird things?”

Daniel almost aspirated his spit. “Huh?!”

“Well… okay promise you won’t tell mom first!”

“Wait, Tara, did you fuck the new neighbour?”

“I said you can’t tell mom!”

“Holy shit,” Daniel murmured, turning his attention back to the stove.

“Well, do they?”

“Sometimes? What happened? And please spare me the gory details!”

“Well, he kinda called me his sex slave.”

“Oh. Yeah, that happens. Guys never mean it when they say shit like that, though. It’s just a heat of the moment thing. That’s all.”

“Is that why he left after?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I asked him if he wanted to spend the night, and he said that he couldn’t but that he would next time. He seemed kind of in a hurry to leave, to be honest.”

Daniel sucked in air through his teeth, as though he knew something Tara didn’t.

“What?” she asked.

“Tara, there isn’t going to be a next time. That was a hook up. He just wanted to hit it and quit it.”

“Oh,” Tara said, dejected, looking down at her coffee.

Once again, she blew it. And she blew it with a cute guy, too. One whom she will have to look at every morning and probably every day when school starts again while he entertains other girls.

“Are you okay?” her brother asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go get ready for work.”

At the book store, it was pretty relaxed. The only customers were the occasional child being dragged in by their parents for the summer reading program.

Tara decided to use the down time to alphabetise the kid’s section. She winced in pain as she crouched down to the bottom shelves.

“Chica, are you okay?” Alanna asked, approaching her to help.

“Yeah. This really cute guy moved in across the street and we went on a date and the night ended kinda rough. I’m still kinda sore down there.”

“Girrrrl! Spill! Spill all of the dirty details!”

“Okay, well, this guy—“ before they could finish that thought, a thunderous engine roar pulled up to the front. The two heard what sounded like Billy arguing with a child before said child stormed into the store.

“Hello! Welcome to A Literal Haven! How can we direct your reading adventures today?” Tara asked.

Tara took another look at the child and recognised her as Max, Billy’s stepsister.

“I’m here for the summer reading program,” Max responded.

“Not a problem! Last name?” Alanna asked, looking through the summer reading files.

“Mayfield. It might be under Hargrove, too. My stepfather is the one who signed me up, but only cause my mom asked him to.”

“Max?” Alanna asked pulling out her file. “Cool, I’ll explain how it works—“

Suddenly the bell jingled, indicating that another customer walked in. “I’ll see to that!” Tara said.

When she went to the front, she saw Billy there with his trademark charismatic smile.

“Hi, there! What brings you here?” Tara asked curiously.

“Well, I thought I saw you when I dropped off my stepsister and I just had to see it for myself.”

“Yup! This is where I work!” Tara said, flustered and blushing.

“So what time are you off?” Billy asked.

“Come again?” Tara asked.

“Well, I was thinking that maybe you could give me some good book recommendations, seeing as how you work here and all.”

“I would love to do that!” Tara declared.

Truthfully, looking back on the events that transpired the previous night, it might be for the best that it wasn’t going to be a regular thing, but one could never have too many book-reading companions, especially since apart from her boss, there weren’t that many people who would discuss with her the deeper meanings of certain pieces of literature. And because Franklin’s genre and literary tastes differed very greatly from Tara’s, who preferred fairytales and children’s adventures, that narrowed things down even further.

“Great! That’ll be nice. You know, I never thought I’d have a girlfriend not 2 days after moving here.”

Wait, so he wanted to be her boyfriend? He meant it about there being a next time? Geez, people really confused Tara sometimes.

I guess that’s okay, Tara thought. But she was going to have to set and enforce some serious boundaries about what was and wasn’t acceptable behaviour in the bedroom.

[hardynwa]

Naira Redesign: Buhari cannot overrule Supreme Court order – Mike Ozekhome

A Senior Advocate of Nigeria, Mike Ozekhome, has said it is wrong for the President, Major General Muhammadu Buhari (retd.), to disobey the Supreme Court order on the old naira notes. The apex court had in an interim order restrained the Federal Government from suspending the acceptance of the old naira notes. But in a statement on Friday, Ozekhome described the order by the President as a ‘dicta, more in the form of a military Decree’. The statement partly read, “Buhari, in his broadcast on Thursday, February 16, 2023, unilaterally varied the apex court’s extant order of maintenance of status quo, by directing the CBN Governor to the effect that ‘the old N200 banknotes be released back into circulation…to circulate as legal tender with the new N200, N500 and N1000 bank notes for 60 days…’ “The President then issued a dicta, more in the form of a military Decree, that, ‘in line with section 20 (3) of the CBN Act, 2007, all existing old N1000 and N500 notes remain redeemable at the CBN and designated prints’. “This order is a clear violation of and disobedience to the existing order of the apex court which had already maintained the status quo ante bellum of all parties involved in the Naira re-design dispute. “The Supreme Court had on Wednesday, February 15, 2023, after the first interim order, adjourned the suit originally filed by the Attorneys-General of Kano, Kogi and Zamfara states (other interested parties were later joined) to February 22, to enable it hear the entire matter holistically.” The senior lawyer added that Nigerians expected the president to obey the law, adding that by the disobedience of Buhari, he had exhibited the trait of an Emperor and Overlord. Ozekhome said, “Every Nigerian had expected that the Federal Government would respect this apex court’s position. But President Buhari demurred. He made himself Supreme Leader; an Emperor; Potentate, Mikado and Overlord. “Buhari’s broadcast to the nation therefore literally overruled the Supreme Court of the land, in a way and manner only a military tyrant could ever contemplate. “Buhari’s action is a reminder of the apocryphal saying of autocratic and despotic Emperor Louis XIV, who, on 13th April, 1655, stood in front of Parliament and imperiously declared, ‘L’Etat C’est Moi (I am the State)”. This was to underline the fact that he and he alone, had absolute power over his Nation.'” Ozekhome said apart from being a direct assault on the apex court, Buhari’s order could lead to chaos and anarchy. He said, “Buhari’s imperious order was a frontal call to chaos, anarchy and national upheaval. It was a direct assault on the authority of the Supreme Court, the highest court of the land; and also the head of the entire Judiciary, the 3rd arm of government under the doctrine of separation of powers, most ably popularized in 1748 by Baron de Montesque, a great French Philosopher. “To have whimsically and capriciously varied the order of the Supreme Court was to pick and choose what order to obey or disobey. This breaches the supremacy of the 1999 Constitution provided for in section 1(1) thereof. It also frontally assaults the provisions of section 287(1) of the Constitution which provides that ‘the decisions of the Supreme Court shall be enforced in any part of the Federation by all authorities and persons, and by courts with subordinate jurisdiction to that of the Supreme Court.'” Making allusion to the Supreme Court, in the case of ABACHA V. FAWEHINMI (2000) 6 NWLR (Pt. 660) 228 at page 317 E-F, he noted, “’A court order must be obeyed and even if it is a nullity, it has to be set aside on appeal against it. Per NWALI SYLVESTER NGWUTA, JSC (Pp 25 – 25 Paras D – E). See also the locus classicus of GOVERNOR OF LAGOS STATE VS. OJUKWU (1986) 1 NWLR PT. 18, PG. 621.” He advised the Supreme Court not to allow this slide, since the President in his speech alluded that the matter was before the apex court. Ozekhome said, “This is one instance where the apex court should bare its teeth and bite. This is more so because President Buhari had himself acknowledged in his speech, the pendency of the matter before the Supreme Court. Surely, no one is above the law; not even President Buhari himself.” Read the full article

[classico-fazbear]

Freddy stepped along with Mike, keeping in pace, leaning on the left side of the human, one of his tattered arms around the man's other shoulder.

Again, what a bizarre situation this was.

The broken bear didn't say another word on their slow journey to the apartment. It might have been because the voicebox within the mascot had malfunctioned or perhaps he just wanted to be quiet, no longer having anything to say. He was deflated, at a loss, feeling the ache of failing his dear friends deep within his busted servos. The robot could only wonder where they were taken...if they were even still in one piece. He lost them.

Fazbear did, eventually, focus more on the former night-guard, perhaps he was a new hope. A small one, but still. The animatronic was willing to take it and to trust his old rival completely.

Did he really have any other choice?

However, Freddy wasn't expecting a place like Mike's apartment. He had hardly been anywhere but the pizzeria-his home-and indeed the cramped little space for the human was rather fascinatingly dull to the robot bear. Managing to get to a nearby wall to relieve his rescuer of his weight, Freddy found himself looking around taking in all the details he could despite his less-than-stellar vision. Slowly, but surely, Fazbear creaked and clanked his way over to the bed and almost collapsed fully onto it, he jolted slightly before he finally sat up straight, facing Mike as the ex-guard finished pulling out a toolbox out of a closet.

Just a measly toolbox.

Well, this was going to be interesting. The damaged bear promptly got into the best position he could and one he knew all too well. The sitting pose for when maintenance work was to be performed. "V...Very...well, but b-be care-ful." His glitched voice rang out, the muzzle unmoving. "...A-Althou...gh...I do-o s-suggest...that you...k-kindly...y...f-fix m-my voice-ebox...f-first...I-I sh...all g-guide...you w-when yo-u-u are r-ready...Mike."

Perhaps Freddy never fully realized it when he hunted Mike down during those long, seemingly endless nights.

What a peculiar human the ex-guard happened to be.

The animatronic had met, observed, and trusted many people in his time of being active. He could dare to claim with confidence that he knew quite a lot of those who were of flesh and bone and not of wires and metal, he understood the heart and the soul. Possibly more than his creators might have intended even. However, to Freddy, there was something about this man now that was different from the rest he had saved in his memory banks. Mike was one he would have fully expected to run-and he didn't, to refuse, to perhaps even finish the job of dismantling him...to get revenge or justice for the torture the bear had put him through...for months, it was only fair, right?

But here his old rival was offering help to him.

It spurred a sense of respect through the robot's system.

"I w-won't h-hurt you..." Fazbear promised as he remained quite still as he could tell Mike was definitely frightened, terrified too. The man expected the bear to jump, to attack, to grab ahold...but even if the mechanical animal wanted to, he couldn't. The bear could barely keep himself upright as is, most of his weight was put into the brick wall beside him. As Freddy's eyes flashed a number of spastic colors suddenly, he tilted his head up, just barely. "...I-I am am-m an a-awfully...heav-vy ma-achin...e...and y-you...are not...f-fully f-functi-ional...e...either...I t-think...I c-can make i-it...h-hopefull...y." He stopped talking as a loud glitching noise came out of his damaged voicebox, parts of the Toreador March tune mixing in with the static and garbling, but a moment later the bear managed to speak again. "I...I w-will try...to keep...m-my we-ight...o-off of...you t-the...best I-I can...just...t-tell me...what-t to-o...do..."

There was another pause as the bear slowly looked down to the alleyway ground, his blue eyes finally returning.

"...Can-n y-ou...g-grab-b my...h-hat...M-Mike?"