#my glasses stay dirty no matter what i do

[ucannotkillmeinawaythatmatters]

sometimes when I'm outside and the sunlight hits my eyes, I get a lil smug cuz brown eyes look gorgeous in the sunlight. then I get humbled cuz if anybody saw me, they'd only see my dirtyass glasses

[cryptfile]

✶ nuclear seasons, [ soldier boy x reader ]

summary — he was friend’s with your mom. friend is a understatement cause when he appears in the middle of the night looking for revenge in your little apartment in the suburbs, you know he’s far from being nice.

warnings — +18 minors dni, smut, dead dove do not eat, we have a last name (also a mother!), kind of porn without plot? but not really cause it HAS one okay, we call it 50/50, fem!reader using she/her pronouns, p in v, masturbation ( m! receiving but blink and you miss it), dirty talk, age gap, choking, degradation, spitting (i'm sorry), fingering, mentions of injury, cancer (not you tho), tons of tension.

side notes — i’m never experiencing the post ovulation clarity lmao, that being said english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, also i’m a whore for jensen ackles, and i stand for what i like proudly. // 5k+

Nightshade is a hero.

You're proud of your mother since you were pretty young. The hero that fought against Vought to death during the time Payback was active, America’s Troublemaker that you only knew as Stella Nightshade, a blonde woman that talked with the death during her golden years.

Maybe it’s your mother the one that pushed you to fight crime, to pursue the bad guys and look out for the victims that can’t stand for themselves, so even when you don’t inherit much from Stella’s gifts, you joined the CIA as soon as you can so you can do something that matters.

You’re the best in your class, work your ass off to be taken serious, to be more than the look of disappointment you receive when people ask, once again, if you have any powers like your mother and you have to admit — In pure shame, that you didn’t born as a superhero but a baby who cried loudly when is too hungry.

But as years pass you make a name for yourself, one that even if differs from Stella’s job has the same noble reasons behind. You also realize you were too naive growing up, believing in heroes that don’t deserve to be called that way.

The country has made a mistake on making superhumans so openly, and it’s clear that got out of control now, backfiring as they got so much power it’s almost impossible to take accountant of any of them.

You’ve worked along Grace Mallory from the shadows, and even when Stella would not be so proud of you for helping get his kind out of the streets, the justice is enough to feed you and keep you warm on a cold night.

You like it that way. You know Grace has a team for it, a legal army of supe-haters as you called them, yet, you prefer to stay in the dark, not let your personal life get involved cause one slip and you can lose it all— Even when you don’t have nothing at all. You like to have an outside life from work, it’s the sane thing to have, so when the CIA Deputy Director asks you about joining the infamous Boys, you politely decline assuring the woman you’ve been more helpful from the outside.

What would Stella Nightshade would say? Now that you’ve grown older and you don’t look at her the same way you used to when you encounter her files and read about your mother. You know she has done wrong, yet with the years, you don't imagine Soldier Boy himself was going to seek for revenge first thing he does when he wakes up, his plan including your mother even when she was long time dead before he even appeared in the picture.

That night especially you let your guard down. It's been a rough couple of weeks back in work, so when the night comes you're a victim of the stress, victim of your bosses and the people that surrounded you. You pour a glass of wine for yourself, light a cigarette even when you haven't smoked in years, and turn on the TV to see something else rather than the face of Homelander in every single channel you've been tuning lately.

It's a weapon. When you leave for a warm shower and start filling the bathtub, you're not aware of what that night was really going to be for you. Oblivious as you stand naked in the middle of the bathroom, holding the glass of wine between your fingers before entering the warm current that relaxed your muscles.

It seems tension is your worst enemy, makes your muscles feel like stone as you got in the water, the cigarette that hangs from your dry lips splashing with tiny droplets of perfumed water as the silence filled the air. It's what you needed, at least ten minutes with your brain shutting off completely, the pleasure you haven't experienced in forever by being so compromised with work.

It's a much-needed break. The smoke that leaves the room by the almost-closed window, the taste of wine still lingering in your lips as you sip another taste of the crimson liquor you love. You don't happen to notice when he's breaking in your apartment, silent and deadly as you were protected by a door closed and a white curtain.

You don't happen to hear him too. The music coming our from your phone is loud enough to silence the knocks on your door at first before breaking the wood, you're too deep in the still water that smelled like roses and vanilla, to even pay attention to what was going on outside the warmth of the four walls that surrounded you.

There's vapor coming out of the water and you find comfort in closing your eyes, in letting the blow of the smoke travel through your throat before suspending itself in the air, flowing as you drank.

In your defense, you haven't been like that in ages.

It's been a long time since you last fill the tub and have a relaxing session with yourself, so it makes sense you are enjoying it a little bit too much, too much cause when the invader is making a lot of noise when stepping into your property, you still enjoy the taste of the alcohol on your lips.

The ashes fall to the ceramic floor outside the tub and you should blame the CIA to make you so tense to the point it leads you to more problems than you ever had. In the dark room of your apartment, it's Soldier Boy the one who's going through any drawer he comes across, the ones closed, the ones hidden, any slit he can find, any clue that can trace your mother back to his personal vendetta.

He's oblivious to Stella's death and her daughter, so when the former superhero hears the noise in the bathroom he's fully convinced it's your mother the one who's behind that door, that she's the one who's going to tell him the truth, if she also sold him to the russians as well in the process.

He's decided also on killing her. She must need it after all that time getting older, closer to death more than ever.

Of course it's an unpleasant surprise when you can see the bathroom door opening when you're sure you left the front door closed and lock with at least two bolts to prevent anyone from getting inside, it makes you jump in the spot, quickly covering yourself from the new stranger that enters your bathroom.

"Stella?" he asks, it's the last room that the hero needs to check for himself.

You spot the green fabric of his suit immediately as you pressed your chest against the cold surface of the tub, and when the invader notices you're naked, he doesn't look away as any person with a hint of respect would do, but instead, continue on checking you out as you try to cover yourself in the water tinted in a nonexistent transparent color red.

You can feel his gaze as soon as you recognize him too, as you happen to notice that face from your mother's pictures, the propaganda in the TV when he did almost every commercial back when you were a kid. It's a shock, and dressed in his damn suit, you don't know why an old superhero is there standing beneath the yellowish bulbs of the light your bathroom happens to have.

Your cheeks adopt this pink color as you panic, grabbing the cup of wine to throw the liquid in the floor, breaking it against the marble walls just to shatter the glass in pieces, a weapon of defense as you lifted up against him.

"You're not Stella."

Soldier Boy looks amused: it's funny that you think you'd be able to kill him with shattered glass, yet he lets you keep thinking that way when he's enjoying the view.

Is he to blame? He just got out from this giant cooking oven back with the communists and he hasn't got his way with a lady since what seems are centuries, so when he spots you in the tub he simply cannot contain himself from peaking around. You should be in what? Not more than your 20's? Soft-looking skin that asked to be marked with his hands, by the force of his lips crashing in your flesh.

The thought is compelling, you're looking all feisty with the glass in your hand, threatening him and speaking something Soldier Boy cannot catch at first — Shit, he doesn't even notice the blood in your hand that's dripping all over your small rug in the floor, the power women like yourself seemed to have now and weirdly enough, a huge turn on.

"Get the fuck out!" you scream in an authority voice, the same you use back at work when you're mad, when you're usually holding a gun in defense more than a piece of broken glass "Stella is not fucking here!"

It takes a few more words to actually get him out of there, and as he closes the door behind him you finally stand to grab a towel covering from the currents of wind, trying, really hard, to think about anything else more that the fact that Soldier Boy has entered your house and your bathroom in the worst moment, far from what you were last updated with.

To be honest, it almost gave you a heart attack, leaving the bathroom to find your home torn apart, the drawers open and all the papers you've meticulously kept in place being all over the place as Ben stands awkwardly holding a shield in the middle of your living room.

"Fucking hell" you're cursing under your breath as you gathered some important things you cannot leave on the floor even when you're still wet from the shower, expelling this nice aroma that mixed the roses and the vanilla together with your personal scent — Weirdly enough, a fucking show to the hero that's already rock-hard from the peak he had of you from before.

You don't really notice it at first, too busy being mad as you let the papers you gathered on top of the table. You lose the shame you got left as the wet drops of the shower leave a trace in the floor — And as usual, you clearly don't notice it, but Ben does when the water is running down your back, and you're barking something about calling someone called Grace, holding onto a white tower with your dear life.

"Where is Stella Nightshade, sweetheart?" he speaks out loud cause he don't understand anything you say, really fighting to be nice with you like it would give him an opportunity to get under your skin.

"My mother's dead," you stand there without knowing what to say after. You know he and your mother were close, but you don't imagine he was going to actually go find her teammate when he recently woke up in a different country. "She died years ago dude, i'm sorry."

The information gathers in his head as you take a clean oversized shirt from the laundry basket covering with it as you throw the towel to the floor, Red Hot Chili Peppers it says, but he thinks it's a place in Italy more than a band like he isn't troubled already by the fact you were Stella's daughter, the person who thought was her only friend back in the time now dead.

"Does anyone know you're here?" your mind is drifting back to work again as you wondered if anyone knew he was going to break into your apartment and choose not to send any help — "Ben."

You've read his file. Hell, to be honest you've read every single file in Payback, so it's no surprise you know his name, but to the hero, it seems to be amusing when you call him by his real name, his mind fueled in a different direction as he notices you're not wearing any underwear beneath the shirt you're choosing to wear, one whose fabric's barely covering your tights.

"What do you mean dead?" he asks, furrowing his brows "It's not been so long."

"She got cancer three years ago" you explain with a sad tone, even when you disagree with Stella, it pains you to remember what sickness made out of her, consuming her from the inside at a cruel pace.

"Motherfucker," he states clearly angry, and you cannot help but look at him with a weird face, searching for the phone you left in the sofa to call any-fucking-body in the office that could send a damn army to get you: Didn't the Boys have everything under control? That's what you're told anyway, then why the fuck is the subject of matter cursing in your little messy apartment? — "Bitch just got away with it before I could do anything, isn't it? What a fucking shame."

"Pardon me?" it catches you by surprise at first, but it hits you soon after. Soldier Boy is not there to say hello to your mother or ask for her help, but instead, he's there to get revenge and actually kill Stella by his own matters.

Fuck. Of course is something new, something that makes you feel cold all sudden, your wet hair making you visible shake as you became aware of his plans.

"You know them. You know the people from the lab" it's more of a fact than a question, letting the words feel salty in his own mouth. "The ones that let me get away."

He's quickly to gather the pieces too, not as dumb as you think he is as the puzzle is finally coming up together in his head, and it's all it takes for him to take a step closer to you, cutting that space you've created since you kicked him out of the bathroom — He's angry now.

The red globe on his hand is now holding you by the throat, applying enough pressure to cut the air flow going to your lungs almost completely, his fingertips warm against your bare skin as he holds you in front of his figure, pushing you against the cold wall.

You usually would enjoy such activities, yet in the context you are trapped in right now, you began to choke, your own hands trying to push his grip back even when he’s too strong, not even flinching when you’re squirming, gasping for some air as your face became red, tears gathering in your eyes as he let you breathe for a couple of seconds when he senses you’re too close to black out.

“Talk little Nightshade” he says in a low voice. “Or else i’m breaking your pretty neck.”

“I work for the CIA!” You explain quickly as your breathing became more labored by the seconds. “Not for the people who let you out! I promise!”

He’s going to kill you. You can see the determination in his eyes, that predator look he happens to have.

What you don’t know, somehow, is that he’s going fucking insane. Your smell coming up to his nose to make him shiver, the sight of you in an oversized shirt that barely covers your shape is more than enough to push his buttons, to make him forgot about any killing he was allegedly so concentrated in fulfill, the sight of you almost crying messing with his brain.

Little Nightshade is a fucking tease.

His eyes follow your expression, the hand that gripped your neck and choke you harshly now pressing enough to only suppress the air flow in a more enjoyable way, the tension quickly shifting from dying to pleasure all over again as he kept you in place so easily.

It’s impossible to move, to do anything more than be pressed against a cold wall. Your mother has once again lied to you and you notice the relationship she painted with Soldier Boy was more of a movie in her head than reality itself. Makes you gulp in response when you stare at his expression, the face of a trained killer as you knew, fucking knew, a bit more of force in your neck and it would snap without any difficulty.

“I don’t work with them” you assure once again, maybe it’s your survivor skills hitting when you repeat it in a low voice, catching on your breath when he lets go allowing you to fill your lungs with air just enough before pressing that very spot again, the one that actually turns you on. “Fuck’s sake.”

Is that how you end? On your lame apartment?

The next is a weird thing, cause in the blink of an eye he’s close to your face planting his own body next to yours and you’re shivering at the feeling, his armor pressed against your chest as he left the shield he was holding on the floor.

The metal is pressed against your skin covered by the thin cotton of Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he is so close, so close you froze there, no longer fighting his tight grip but mesmerized by his damn face, the same you watched on TV when you were a kid, the handsome man you happen to severely crush on in secret, just because you don’t want Stella to know or she will give you a long talk about how he is her age.

But he is, handsome as fuck, and now being so close to his face you can say it with all confidence. His beard is shaved perfectly and he smells incredibly good even for someone who has spent time locked away without any kind of hygiene, his green suit protecting him from the cold air that was getting through the opened window.

“Who are you?” he asks, scanning your face with a curious look as he wanted to know what expression you would have when you know why he's there in the first place — “What do you know about Stella Nightshade, your mother, selling me out?”

Fuck. So that's why he's there. You know she did it. And it's impossible for you to lie when he's making you so nervous, away from any weapon, any form of defense as you left the glass in the bathroom sink when you notice large gash on your hand, and your silence makes nothing more than leave him fuming. If he was angry before, he now reaches a higher level as his grip turns more violent now that he knows you know what he meant, why he's there claiming to talk with your death mother out of nothing.

"Call her then. Use your powers" he demands dryly, and you're shaking at this point cause it's more shame added to the long pile, the bathroom already being a humiliation by itself. "Fucking call her."

You squirm beneath his grabbing, when he's pushing you harder against the concrete wall and you can just feel him from under the suit, hard cock pressing against your belly, green in your vision as he towers over you. He knows what he's doing, and even when you try to be disgusted by it, you find yourself enjoying his closeness, how he's pinning you with no effort at all, hands on your throat while he demanded an answer.

"I can't call her" you admit in a low voice, cheeks now red as the embarrassment crept upon your face — "I don't have my mother's power."

Soldier Boy seems to not believe you for a mere second, after that you can feel the blade of the knife pressing against your skin, a threat that now becomes more real as you can feel the cold metal stomach. One swift movement and you'd be stabbed without a second thought.

It's sick how much you enjoy it when you are squirming against him, goosebumps in the zone he threats to destroy.

A force pull his lips upwards in a smile, unable to pay attention to nothing else but the sound you made without even realizing it. "You like that, huh little Nightshade?"

It seems to be a joke for him, bitting your inner cheek to prevent you from saying something stupid, from letting out a moan in response to all the sudden desire.

Despite all conditions you stay silent, holding his gaze like it's a game you're not going to lose. He didn't respond either, trapped in a second that seemed longer than the usual when time stopped around you, eyes looking like he can surpass the old fabric of the white shirt you choose to wear.

It's the tension what makes you mad. You're so into getting people like him, that your ego is bruised now that you notice you are actually attracted to all of that, to the way he's pressing you against the concrete, how all falls into place when he's pushing himself against you, invading any private space you could require.

He's kissing you soon after. Ben crumbles against the tension as the hand on your throat demands a kiss now, pulling you closer to his face without any warning nor concern as he crash his lips against yours in a rough kiss. You try to push him away in response even when you don't want to; see, it's hard to even admit you have interest in Soldier Boy in any other way more than the professional, but when he's bitting your lower lip you're letting your defense down: When is the last time you've been kissed like that?

You remind yourself you're tired from work, that the CIA has done nothing for you more than fuck your over and over even to this point, losing sight of one of the most important heroes of the word, and it's making you encourage to let go just for a mere hour.

"Lookin' so good takin' a bath" he says, and the sound of his deep voice is enough to send an electric wave through your spine, like he’s talking to himself as the hand on your hip is now tracing the curves of your body, taunting you from over the shirt he now learns to love. His beard is now scraping against your skin and you can feel his lips going down, tracing an invisible path to the crook of your neck as his hand is no longer choking you.

Jesus. Was that even happening or was that your imagination? Did you feel asleep on the bathtub? Maybe it’s a reflection as you are close to drowning, your brain doing that happy thoughts shit. You’re tilting your head to the side just to give him more space to work with and you’re just letting it be, enjoying how he’s sucking and nibling on your skin to leave a red mark behind, all teeth and no fucking control as he uses a good amount of force to make you moan in the process, the pain enough to remember who’s really on charge.

Ben forgets about asking any more questions, he’s too busy when his hand are taking decisions by themselves as they slide under your shirt, body still cold from the bath you just took, water still drying in your flesh when he’s like he usually is — An invader.

His hands are big and they’re capable of holding your whole tummy as he caress the soft skin that seems to expel a warm sensation, how it leaves goosebumps in any place he touches. You remember you’re basically at his mercy now that his hands roam with all liberty under your shirt, the look he gave you in the bathroom mistaken you for Stella, his eyes looking at any exposed skin he could look at.

“What the fuck,” you try to say under your breath, to keep on this facade you have of a composed person, one that won’t give in to be manhandled “What the fuck do you think you are you doing?”

“Well, i’m not seeing any complains” The blade cuts through the cotton leaving a large hole you know you won’t be able to sew after yet he’s right: There are no complains, nothing but eager that makes him go further as the seconds passed “In fact, can see that you’re pretty much enjoying it, Doll.”

You hate the nickname, that old man way of speaking when he’s squeezing one of your breasts with more force you can even handle, cursing at how easy it seems to be for him, how he wants to see you simply destroyed.

“You’re loving this isn’t?” he ask all sudden, studying you with his hazel eyes — “You love being a good whore f’me? My little Nightshade.”

He’s hard under the suit, covered in a green material you don’t know how to call as your hand searches for him, crave for him, convincing that it's what you must do as you trace the invisible lines his muscles made.

Soldier Boy’s messy, much like an animal when he’s groaning beneath your touch, his own body seeking for yours as your fingers grew bolder, demanding for a deeper contact — “Careful there sweetheart, i’m still fresh out of the oven. May be a little rusty."

You laugh at his words cause you know what he means, yet your hands work by themselves as you barely even touch him from over the suit, the hard feeling of his cock against your palm, hips buckling against your hand seconds after seeking for you, eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

“M’being careful” you say, catching yourself stealing a look at his reaction, taking your time on pleasuring him , gulping as he experiences the torture of your touch “Taking it slow for an old man.”

“Old man, huh? Now you're talking” He teases, and the sound of his laugh just fucks you up. Maybe it has to be with the fact he’s placing two fingers in front of your lips while looking at you, swollen pink lips he’s so fixated for a second, or it’s because he is, indeed, way older than you are — “Spit.”

It’s not a command, but it sounds like one as you’re unable to disobey, quickly spitting in his hand as you can visibly see the traces of saliva leaving a wet residue in your chin, one Ben looks at it for a good amount of time: How is something like saliva is so damn erotic? He doesn’t know it, but it’s enough to send him into a spiral.

He’s strong you think, cause he’s a superhero. He’s Soldier Boy by any meaning, so it’s not a big effort to hold you in his arms and lift you in the air as you let out a gasp of surprise, spanking your ass as one of his hands separates your legs for him, holding one up as you stand in the other.

“Relax, 'got you, doll” he says, your back against the wall as he kept a bruising grip in your hip, holding you in place so you don’t have to keep your balance — “Fuck you smell so damn good.”

The roses and vanilla aroma lingers on your skin as you finally understand what he's doing now, his hand close to your cunt as he taunts you, torturing you like you did so eagerly before, his personal pet as his digits get lost in your entrance now, your folds spilled with juice he can physically feel in his fingertips, your arousal's so nice against the palm of his hand he cannot help but kiss you, a feverish desire taking over his actions, the lewd sound his fingers made when he finally pushes his digits inside of you, velvety walls welcoming him as they seemed to squeeze him already — He has made such a good job on turning you on, it’s impossible to not react when he’s finally touching you, pumping into you in a constant pace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, the look on your face is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants in response, imagination running wild as he thinks about that very same feeling in a much deeper way, how you’d look now stretched out, crying just like you did when he choked you asking for information — “Such a nice cunt, so wet f’me.”

He's looking at you, holding the image in his mind forever: Pink pussy displayed for him, white t-shirt rising over your chest, lifting your leg over his arm as his muscles flexed by the force he's using to fuck you deliberately, your lips parted as you ask for more in between erratic moans as his fingers curved inside you so he can hit that nice place he can reach with no effort at all, that one spot thats makes you moan louder.

"Ah-fuck" you let out. Ben's all about touching you for what it seems an eternity, thumb grazing against your clit when he's plainly torturing you, testing how much patience you have left now that he has full control of you.

"Don't cum," he demands, your heartbeats are louder by the seconds as he lifts you slightly, lips attacking your neck before the words escape from his mouth "Need you to come undone in my cock first."

He's leaving marks, marks you don't remember how to hide but don't bother you at all, touching you as he pleases you, taking all the time in the world cause it seems like the night belongs to him — Getting started as you shake your head in an improvised yes.

Yes. The thought is pure electricity, the sudden need to please him as you shake your head once again.

“Please Ben,” you don’t recognize what you’ve become now. “Please let me cum in your cock.”

"Go on doll, put on a show f'me" the supe says with a grin you cannot resist. "Bend and show me that lovely ass."

It’s all it takes. His fingers are now away from you, but you’re now facing the wall as you obey, bending until your cheek is pressed against the concrete and you can hear how he’s now unzipping his pants, the green fabric of his suit now to the side.

You look at him from over your shoulder, bitting the your lower lip as you check him out, his slightly curved dick pointing upwards, precum already leaking out.

“Like what you’re seeing or what?”

“Yeah, but there’s no fucking way.”

You’re feeding on his ego now, but you can’t help it when his size is far from what you consider it’s common — “Common’ doll. You can hadle it.”

You gulp in response cause you know you’re more than eager to try, just the sight of his own hand holding his lenght as he strokes himself making you drool in response. Fuck. It transforms in a need now. When he positions himself beneath you and he’s spitting down to that very place where he’s pushing against your hole, saliva coating his cock before just letting the tip inside.

Lubricated, he pushes a bit more and it feels just damn right. Even when it begans to hurt as he’s thick enough to force himself inside you.

Benjamin knows you’re in pain so he waits a second before shoving his cock inside one more time. You need some time as he stretches you out, clenching your teeth while he works.

"You're doing it s'good" he praises, hand massaging your back as he prevents himself from fucking you at his liking, “Takin' me like a champ."

"God" you let out a sharp moan moments after, crying when you felt the pain more than anything else — "Can't-"

"No doll" he hums as he pulls slightly more. “You can do this” he forces himself in until he's finally balls deep inside your cunt, letting you adjust to his size as he can feel fucking everything. Your blood flow, your velvety walls that squeeze him unused to someone as big as he was, your face distorted in what seems an intense mix of pain and pure, devastating pleasure — "Atta girl."

Strikes like lighting.

Soldier Boy's bitting your shoulder-blade as he waits, waits for it to switch into pleasure, to become intoxicating to the point you cannot longer remember your own name.

"Please move," you ask sooner than he thinks, and when he moves, you can feel it in your belly, melting your fucking brain as he repeated the process again, burying his cock as deep as he could go without any previous warning — "Ah, just like that, please-"

"Do you like how my cock is stretching you out now?" Ben's voice is way deeper than what usually is as he laughs, grunting behind you as one of his hands reach a fistful of your hair, grabbing it with force to pull your head backwards "Good girl, keep huggin' my cock."

You're drunk on the feeling, on the vibrations his voice sends every time he's saying something dirty for you, when he laughs victim of the pleasure.

"Gonna' keep you as my personal slut," he thinks out loud, pushing you against the wall every time he fucks you, using his other hand to spread one of your ass cheeks to the side so he can hit it harder. "Use you as my fucking pet so I can cum on your pretty face whenever I want."

He's moaning, your body’s sweaty as he pulls your hair without caring, not concentrated on the pain it produces as his hips continue on collide against you.

"Would you like that, little Nightshade?" he asks then in a low voice, his thumb pressing against your asshole as he fucks you harder now that you're used to his size. "Could get used to this pretty cunt. Promise to keep my cock whore nice and full."

It doesn't take long. Soldier Boy's moans are now filling the room as his pace becomes faster, slurred words between his erratic breathing when the hand on your hair comes up to finally grab you by the neck, like he can read your mind cause it's exactly what you need to get there, to experience by first hand a set of crashing waves that were getting more and more intense on your stomach.

You're close to the edge. He can smell it in the air when the sound of your skin slapping against his is loud enough to be all you can hear, mixing with the lovely moans you produce when he’s pounding into you with no mercy, fingers pressing the side of your neck with enough force you’re running out of breathe.

It’s messy, violent and you love it, love how he’s ruining you all sudden, fucking you up from the inside, making your vision turning dizzy in response. You’re immersed in the haze he’s driven you into before admiting:

“God i’m so fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock,” it sounds like he’s begging you to do it, fingers finding their way to your swollen clit to move against the sensitive flesh “Come on doll, leave me full of you.”

He’s making you move now, hands now controlling your hips as you take him as his liking, mere seconds until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking as you finally reach your peak. He keeps on fucking you through your high, long enough so he’s pulling out all of sudden, stroking his lenght over you as his cum finally lands on your back leaving you convered with his load.

Fucking hell.

When you’re coming down from your orgasm shame seems to hit you hard, however for Ben is not enough when he’s kneeling on the floor, eyes on the mess his cock made out of you.

“Wanna go again, little Nightshade?” he asks curiously, and the question makes you laugh in response, forgetting about formalities and the trouble it meant you were intimate with Soldier Boy out of all the supes in the world.

“Hm,” you seem to think about it for a second, his breathing close to your wet pussy as he’s still wearing his clothes in contrast of you being so exposed — “But you’re keeping the suit on.”

He don’t have any complains when he’s the one pressing his face against your wet folds.

Funny thing is now when you’re forced to join the Boys days after that very encounter — A bad joke when you’re now babysitting Soldier Boy himself.

“Been missing you s’much little Nightshade” he admits after a couple of minutes alone in the filthy motel “Thinking about how cute you are, how you felt taking my cock so nicely in your living room.”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“We’ll be quick” he promises “That stupid assholes back there wont even notice.”

You seem to think about it for a second before lifting your middle finger in response — “I said fuck off, Ben.”

For now, it’s enough for him that you’re thinking about it.

my masterlist

[arpicityandneed]

Asking for a friend re: dark content Bucky, are we talking Bucky-Bucky, or like, are you also down with some Winter Soldier? Because WOW what a great look. Scared my ovaries so good.

Like, imagine the Soldier gets a bodyguard assignment to the daughter or wife of some SHIELD official. You're annoyed about having this mostly silent, kind of unsettling hottie shadow you constantly. So you get bratty, act out to try and crack that ice wall. "Kay fine, you need to keep an eye on me, I'll leave the door open to shower!" or "hey they said to pretend you're not even here, guess that means I can masturbate!" And you're not really sure what you expected to come of it, but it definitely wasn't getting railed because you managed to wake up half a century of repressed lust.

author's note: I mean all the dark content, Winter Soldier, Bucky-Bucky, dubcon, incest, all the good stuff. please ref my rules and guidelines <3

18+ Dark Content. Winter Soldier!Bucky. brat!reader. dirty talk. creampie. dubcon (mainly 'cause hydra). rough sex.

"Новая миссия Солдат." New mission, Soldat. The HYDRA handler handed the assassin the file, your seductive smirk in your profile photo making his stomach tighten. The sensation was new to him. But his response was the same it always was, a low husky rasp with no intonation.

"готов подчиниться." Ready to comply.

~

You didn't like your new bodyguard.

No matter how hot he was, he never spoke two words to you. All you got was da or net. He followed you everywhere and carried your bags and never seemed to sleep. You knew your dad was important to some big guys, but to think it would mean you'd be stuck with this ghost of a man with no way to sneak off wasn't what you had in mind.

He was just a big, hunking, idiot. With a metal arm. (You may have had a thing for the metal arm.)

He wouldn't let you drink since you were technically only 20, and killed any party just by standing there- not dancing, not moving, just watching you with his icy blue eyes.

It made you want to crack that perfect control he had.

"So you're really not going to leave that spot while I shower." You looked up at him as he stood at the threshold of the large ensuite bathroom in the hotel you were staying at while your father was having a business meeting.

"Da." He didn't smile, didn't frown. His handsome face was just always deadpan.

"Then I guess its not a problem if I leave the door open right?" You grinned, impish and bold as you started stripping. You new you looked good. It was the utter shamelessness of it all that had the Soldat's eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Bending over to drag your panties down your legs, letting him see your bare pussy before unhooking your bra. You sighed with relief as your breasts bounced free.

"Be a good boy and do what daddy paid you for. Watch me." You grinned when you saw him take a step towards you, your pussy gushing as you imagined him grabbing you and fucking you senseless. But he seemed to remember himself and stepped back. Firmly planting both feet and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Coward~." You sang as you stepped into the shower leaving the door open, its glass side walls fogging up as you lathered up your body. Touching every inch of yourself as slowly as possible making damn sure he could follow your hands with his eyes. His pupils were blown wide but it was the only sign he as affected.

You'd have to try harder.

~

"Ah!"

The Soldat was in your room in an instant the next morning even though you never heard the door unlock or open. He was ready for a threat, door locked so there was one less escape route for any intruders.

But all he found was you, on the bed with your legs spread- naked as the day you were born. A pathetic excuse for a plastic cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls as you fucked yourself over and over. One tiny hand was twisting your nipple and you were crying out loudly with every intention of making sure he could hear.

"Fuck!" You moaned as you met his eyes, pure mischief in your gaze. "Shouldn't be a problem, right Soldat? Just, nngh, watch me."

You never even saw him move, but suddenly he was on you. Snatching the dildo and dragging it out of your pussy before throwing it across the room.

"Этого будет недостаточно для такой шлюхи как ты." That won't be enough for a slut like you. He growled as he quickly undid his zipper, you barely had a glimpse of his girthy length before he was lining himself up. He didn't even bother to take off his tactical suit before fucking into your slick hole in one overwhelming thrust. It knocked the air out of your lungs.

"M-more!" You whined as you clawed at his back uselessly, your tiny pussy stretched almost painfully wide as you strangled his cock.

"Заткнись и возьми это." Shut up and take it. He was hissing in your ear with ever balls deep thrust, groaning as he felt pleasure for the first time in over 30 years. Your pussy was heaven he was sure. And he was never letting you go.

Every squelch and slap of his hips on your ass filled the room until it was a symphony of decauhery. You were being used, and somehow the knowledge made your blood burn with desire.

"Use me, fuck, cum in me please-" you begged as you felt your orgasm growing. The blunt head of his cock was dragging against the spot inside you that you'd barely been able to reach with the dildo. Your eyes were crossing every time his fat cock bottomed out inside you, and you knew you were going to cum harder than you ever had before.

"Просто теплое место которое я могу использовать по своему усмотрению." Just a warm place for me to use. He purred the words in your ear, and you cried out when you felt his skilled fingers making quick tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You bit down on his throat, the only skin you could reach to stop yourself from screaming as you gushed around his cock. (It was only later, much later when you were being interrogated about where the Asset had gone, that you realized the bastard had made you squirt.)

His grip on your hip became bruisingly tight but you didn't care, not when his thrusts were getting sloppy.

"Do it, cum in me, get me pregnant I don't care just-" His other hand, still slick with your juices slapped over your mouth as he growled at you.

"Я сделаю тебя матерью. Я сделаю тебя своей." I'll make you a mother. I'll make you mine.

You shivered, not understanding anything but the possessiveness in his tone. Your hole clenching around him and he was done for.

His load was endless. He fucked you through it, stuffing his seed as deep inside as his cock could reach. In your lustful haze you realized you truly wouldn't mind having the child of a man like him. You knew he'd protect you both if it ever came to that.

You must have fallen asleep after that because when you came to the window was open, and there was a pillow under your hips.

He was gone.

(pt 2)

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ₥ØĐɆⱤ₦ ĐɆ₥Ø₦₴ ♰

♰ Pairing: slasher!yunho x chubby!fem!slasher fucker!reader

♰ Genre: smut/dark romance/horror

♰ Summary: With a ruthless, brutal killer on the loose the safe thing to do would be to stay as far away from dangerous men as possible. But you've never been the kind of girl to play it safe and when danger comes in the form of a man like Yunho, how's a girl to stay away?

♰ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♰ Warnings: Yunho's a literal serial killer, neither of you die but someone does, sorta vivid description of a limb being chopped off, voyeruism in a way, slasher fetish, sadism, masochism, dom daddy Yunho, choking, restriction of movement, a lil nipple play, penetrative sex, sex covered in blood, dirty talk, scratching, hickeys, other forms of marking, creampie, manhandling, pet names (baby, princess, good girl), you're both kinda psychos...obviously.

♰ A/N: I'd like to say, "Oh, I wrote this because Halloween is coming up!" but, no, I didn't. I'm just a slasher fucker, okay? A part of this was inspired by one of my favorite horror movies and if you can guess it then let's get married. Love you forever.

On a side note, thank you @dawn-iscozy for suggesting Yunho for this. I didn't regret that decision for a solitary minute.

There’s a killer on the loose. A brutal, wicked man who stalks the night preying upon unsuspecting victims. Some say he only goes after those he perceives as having done something wrong. His own perverse way of balancing the scales, righting the wrongs that the cops don’t have the balls to fix.

Others say it doesn’t matter who you are or what you do. Your chances of being butchered are all the same, sinner or saint. One thing’s for sure, once he has his sights set on you not even god himself can save you from the fate that awaits. You’re gone in the blink of an eye, never to be seen again. At least not in one piece. 

You’ve heard the warnings a thousand times over but none of them struck fear into your heart. On the contrary, you have quite the erotic fascination with his art as he calls it in the letters he leaves behind. There’s something about what he does that taps into a fetish for danger that you dare not tell another living soul about. You want to play with fire, scorch the tips of your fingers in his flames. That’s how you ended up here, straddling the lap of a man who claims to be the killer your sick little heart yearns for. 

You met at a club. The kind where people go to indulge their wildest fantasies, no matter how depraved. You were wandering around alone in a tight latex mini dress that fit the richness of your curves like a glove. You had your hair pinned up the way you do now, waterfalls of curls spilling down to frame your face. Expertly applied black lipstick adorned your kissable lips, drawing men in enough that they’d lose their minds thinking of all the things that pretty mouth could do. The man beneath you was among them. 

He spotted you from across the room, your figure bathed in red neon light as you sat at the bar plotting your next move. You let him buy you a few drinks, loosening you both up enough that secrets began to spill as freely as the vodka in your glass. “I wanna know if I tell you a secret, will you keep it?” the dark haired man whispered in your ear, a hand hovering dangerously close to your inner thigh. You swore that you would, hand over your heart. And that’s when he confessed. Your clear fascination with the man known as the Seoul Slasher had prompted him to reveal himself to you. 

You couldn’t believe it. A real live serial killer, an absolute monster, so hypnotized by you he was nearly drooling down your cleavage. Going against every self preservation tactic they taught you in school, you invited him back to your place for a bit of fun. An offer he excitedly accepted. For a man whose entire modus operandi is control, he was more than happy to relinquish it to you. In no time you had him spread out on your bed, arms and legs handcuffed to the bed frame. 

The entire room’s dark save for the flickering wicks of a few candles sprinkled about the room. You run a hand down his bare chest, sharp nails nicking at his tattooed flesh. He hisses at the sting, grinding his hips up against your core to add some pleasure to the pain.

You let out a giggle, fingers teasing the waist of his pants, “Tell me how you did it.” You flash your doe eyes, tightening your plush thighs around his hips. 

“How’d I do what?” he asks, far too preoccupied with your body to hone in on your words. 

“Those last two guys you killed. I wanna know every gory detail. You can tell me while I ride your cock.”

Your words certainly aren’t falling on deaf ears. He heard you loud and clear. He takes a calculated pause before providing you with a less than satisfying answer. “I used a butcher knife. Chopped them up real easy. Some of my best work I’d say.”

“Oh” you pout, shoulders dropping. You fold your arms across your chest, your disappointment hanging heavy in the air. “You really shouldn’t lie, you know? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Lie?” he scoffs, a nervous smile creeping across his face. His deception has failed and he doesn’t have enough brain cells to save this sinking ship. “I’m not lying, babe. I’m telling you. I used a butcher knife.”

You point an accusatory finger at him, applying pressure right between his eyes. “Dirty, dirty, liar” you sing, “You aren’t the Seoul Slasher.”

“And how would you know?” he asks, unjustly offended at the fact that you aren’t stupid enough to buy his bullshit. 

You lean in close, the warm flames of the candles reflecting in your eyes like hellfire. “Because I’m already fucking him and he’s not too happy about you going around pretending to be him. It’s just bad manners.” 

His smile grows more strained, his nervous laughter tickling the tip of your nose. He can’t tell if you’re serious or not but this is getting a little weird. Even for him. You watch him for a moment before erupting in soft, sweet laughter that mocks him. Reaching underneath your pillow you pull out a gag and shove it right into his mouth, shutting him up for the first time tonight. 

“Baby, I’m done playing now!” you call out like a housewife announcing that dinner’s ready. 

You sit back up, climbing off of him, and skip your way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. You hop up, feet giddily swinging back and forth to the tune of heavy footsteps descending the hallway. The man’s eyes dart over to the closed bedroom door, his heart thumping out of his chest. You can make out a few muffled protests but you dare not take it out. There’s nothing he can say that interests you now. Not that it ever did. 

When your best friend first told you that a guy at the club was going around claiming to be the Slasher, you couldn’t believe your ears. Especially not when the real one was sleeping peacefully beside you. Further investigation proved that your best friend had been telling the truth so he had to be dealt with. Then another popped up and another. This one will make for the 4th and you must admit, as annoying as identity theft is for your boyfriend, you get a kick out of luring them here. 

They always start out so cocky but once the gag’s in and those footsteps come, getting closer and closer at an agonizing pace, they’re not so confident anymore. At first they freeze up just like the corpse they’re soon to be. The shock does need a few seconds to set in. And then they panic, screaming through the gag and tugging at their bindings, their bodies writhing like a fish out of water. This one’s no different than the others. You can guess his next move like a film you’ve watched a dozen times and all of it’s in vain. 

Sweat slicks his brow as the door creaks open and your face lights up like the Fourth of July. You breathe a sigh of relief. There he is. You’ve only been apart for hours but it feels like an eternity. A tall figure steps out of the shadows into the candlelight, revealing a handsome man in tailored black pants and a black button up you pressed yourself. His sleeves are rolled up, tucked just below the elbow where a pair of long black latex gloves begin. He spares the unfortunate soul strapped to the bed a passing glance before approaching you. He leans forward, palms flat on the dresser, caging you in. 

“Did I do okay?” you question innocently, always hungry for the praise he never fails to feed you. 

Yunho nods, gloved fingers stroking your soft cheek, “Oh, my good girl. You did more than okay. What would I do without you?”

Taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he tilts your head up, capturing your lips in a kiss that would soak your panties if you were wearing any. He takes a deep breath as he pulls away, not wanting to but knowing that time is of the essence.

“Did he touch you?” Yunho’s jaw tenses, gloved hands flexing to warm up for the night’s events. 

You peek around him to check in on the dark haired man. His face is wet with tears and he’s sobbing all over your new gag. You pray he hasn’t pissed himself. You’re not in the mood to have to buy a new mattress again.

You look back to your boyfriend and nod. “In the car he put his hand on my thigh.” 

“Thank you for telling me, baby,” Yunho says, kissing you on the forehead. He turns around, eyes darkening as he approaches the foot of the bed. “I’ll start with his hands.” 

Kneeling down, he slides a large case from underneath the bed and pops it open to reveal his tools. The spread is a pristine assortment of autopsy tools, not a lowly butcher knife in sight. He delicately runs his fingers over them, settling on the fine toothed bone saw. Your gaze never leaves him as he rounds the bed, aligning the sharp teeth of the saw with what you’ve come to know as the ulna. The bone right on his inner forearm. 

Yunho grinds the saw against it and the man’s arm tears open, tattered pieces of flesh splintering off to the side as he carves his way through tough tendons. Blood gushes from the man’s arm, drenching the brand new sheets in a river of crimson. Yunho’s movements are precise and purposeful. The saw taps bone as the body below him convulses violently, the pain beyond anything you can imagine or ever care to. 

Your boyfriend pauses, glancing over at you, and you know it’s about that time. You open one of the drawers beside you, fishing out your phone and a pair of over ear headphones. You sync them up, hitting play on your favorite song, and smile lovingly back at him.

He can’t be as brutal when he knows you’re listening. It’s one of few things about his profession he’s never quite been able to bring himself to expose you to. Even with the man’s cries muffled, being dismantled brings sounds out of someone that could give the most vile person nightmares. You can watch all you want but you won’t hear them.

It’d be easy to say that you weren’t like this before you met him. You were a sweet, delicate flower and this charming psychopath came along, corrupting your young soul. But a girl doesn’t get wet watching her boyfriend dismember people because she had her purity corrupted.

You were never innocent, you’d simply presented yourself as such. Yunho just freed you from the prison of feeling guilty about what got you off. Power. Not being at the mercy of anyone. Yunho treats you like a princess. You’re never left wanting for anything. Your every desire is satisfied. So what if your Prince Charming comes with a body count? Nobody’s perfect. 

Yunho makes quick work of the body. After the slice to his second arm the man’s already at death’s door and the severing of his knees puts the final nail in the coffin. Yunho tosses the body parts to the ground like the limbs of an old doll. Breathless and blood soaked as he licks splatters of scarlet from his lip, he goes in for another cut.

You’re the only other thing he looks at like he does his work. The excitement of the kill is borderline orgasmic, dopamine coursing through his veins with every gruesome cut. Once he starts he has to keep going, chasing his high until it’s finished and the body’s nothing more than scattered pieces of an impossible puzzle. 

Shoving the torso to the floor, he steps back to catch his breath, waving to get your attention. You slip your headphones off, setting them down to navigate the landmine of limbs and entrails to reach your love. 

“You need some water, Yunie?” you ask, throwing your arms around him. The blood weighing down his clothes sticks to your arms, cool against your skin. It used to feel a bit strange but after a few times you’ve come to find it refreshing like a cool shower on a hot day. 

Yunho shakes his head, a dazed look in his eyes. Usually the adrenaline begins to die down after that final cut but it’s only getting more intense. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he salivates over you like a man on the brink of starvation. “No, I need you. Right now.” 

His lips crash into yours at a thousand miles per hour and you don’t even attempt to stop him. Why would you? Bloody gloves cling to your dress, stripping you of the material. You rip his shirt open, sending buttons raining down onto the slippery hardwood floor. Yunho’s hands ravenously explore your body as you rid him of his pants, painting your plush figure in blood like a canvas. 

Attempting to feast upon your body through gloves is as close to torture as he’s ever come so he tears them off, groaning in delight as his bare hands sink into your pillowy ass. He picks you up, tossing you back on the bed, your breasts bouncing marvelously as you land.

You grin watching your boyfriend stare down at you like an absolute animal. His body’s everything dreams are made of, his flawless, rigid cock already leaking in anticipation. You spread your thighs, teasing him with the arousal dripping from your entrance. Bringing two fingers between your legs, you stroke them between your lips, spreading yourself open for him.

“You want it?” you moan, back arching as you pinch your sensitive clit. 

Yunho positions himself between your legs, palming his cock above a pussy that’s clenching wildly at the ghost of what could be. He places a hand on your thigh, admiring the view. You in a sea of blood toying with yourself for his pleasure. What a sight to behold.

“You aren’t teasing me are you?” he asks, gripping your thigh tighter. His voice is low and rough, feral in every way. 

You bring your slick fingers up to the head of his cock, coating it on your juices. “And what if I am?”

You motion to get up, your brain set on tasting his cock on your tongue, but Yunho’s quicker than you, grabbing your wrists and pinning your arms over your head. His free hand wraps around your neck, the veins of his arms pulsing as he applies the right amount of pressure to leave you breathless but not in pain. 

“Do you want it?” He bumps his cock against your slit, missing on purpose to drag it between your folds. Your body shudders as much as it can with his full weight on you. 

“Mmhmm” you hum, knowing he won’t hurt you but loving that you’re completely at his mercy. 

“You know that’s not enough, baby” he smiles, squeezing your throat tighter, “I need to hear it, princess. Tell me you want it. Beg for daddy’s cock.”

He presses his throbbing tip to your entrance but this time he arches into you, giving you the head and nothing more. The stretch of that alone is disorienting, a wave of heat rushing through you. Releasing his hold on  your throat, he brings his lips to yours, parting them to taste the desperate pleas that spill out. 

“I want you to fuck me, Yunie. I’m so needy for your cock. I have been all night” you whine and his tongue traces your lips. You taste delicious. He inches into you, feeding you a little more then stopping. A little more then stopping. And your body jumps with every motion, pitiful sounds pouring from your lips onto his. 

“Fuck me” you beg, an undeniable brokeness in your tone, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck…” Your voice trails off, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out. He lifts off of you, still holding your arms in place above your head, and thrusts into you ever so gently. You clamp down around him tightly enough that it’s hard to move, your pussy's too needy to let go. 

Yunho grins, cupping one of your breasts, “I didn’t know watching me kill got you so hot. You’re sick, you know that?” He pinches your nipple harshly and you squeal, twisting in his hold. 

“I know” you moan, blowing him a kiss, “But so are you.”

“Fuck, I love you” he growls, pulling you under with another dizzying kiss.

His thrusts grow harsher, your warm, spongy walls drawing him in impossibly deeper. His fingers knead the tender flesh of your breast as he brings his tongue down to soak your bud in equal parts blood and spit. Taking the bud between his teeth, he wraps his lip around it, suckling at it without losing his rhythm between your legs. 

“Yunie. So good. So, mmph, aah…” you’re moaning but he gives one particularly hard thrust to your cunt, knocking the words right out of your mouth. 

You want to touch him so badly. To dig your nails into his back while he fucks into you. To run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the deep brown strands as his tongue swirls around your bud.

“Touch” you pout, wiggling your hands. 

Yunho pops your bud free of his lips, licking his way up your breasts, across your heated skin, along your neck, until you’re eye to eye. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna touch you. Please, daddy” you plead. You’re so helpless. So beautiful.

Yunho watches you squirm, feigning indecision. After an agonizingly long contemplation, he turns your arms loose, the redness on your wrists marking where he held you. Your hands are drawn to him like magnets, scouring every inch of him they can reach just to feel him.

Your nails find his back, digging into the flesh. Yunho buries his face in your neck, moaning at the sensation. “Harder” he whispers, fingers knotting in the sheets beneath you. You dig your nails in deeper, breaking skin, and he’s on the edge of a whimper, the sensation nearly too much for him. 

Slipping an arm around your back, he keeps you flush against him, sinking into you over and over. Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezed closed. You’re saying something but nothing’s coming out. Only whines and moans, the occasional fractured piece of his name.

There’s no bracing yourself for a cock this long and thick. You just have to take it, let it destroy every bit of you until there’s nothing left. A sense of euphoria surges through you and your legs instinctively lock around his waist. 

“That’s it” he coos, fawning over the string of hickeys he’s left on your neck, “Be a good girl and cum for me.” Yunho grabs for your wrists one last time, locking them above your head. He pounds into you so hard the bed creaks, maybe even moves a few inches. “I wanna feel you gushing around this cock.”

Suddenly your breath hitches and your body feels weightless. It’s as if you’re floating above yourself. Watching this gorgeous man fuck you into the mattress like his own personal whore. And you are. You’re more than happy to be. Your senses come back to you in a rush of ecstasy and you’re trembling, crying out as you do exactly as he said. Creaming, gushing, dripping down his length. 

Yunho pulls back, kneeling between your legs to drag his cock out and glide it back in. He goes all starry eyed at the sight of his cock glistening in your cum and soon he’s spilling inside of you. Your needy walls milking his cock of the warm, white liquid that overflows from your delicious pussy.

His hand comes down on your plush belly, enjoying its softness as he feeds you those last few strokes. You’re still moaning weakly when he finishes, laying back on the bed and pulling you on top of him. 

Curled up safe and warm in his arms, you bask in the afterglow, thoughts of the man your boyfriend dismantled little more than a distant thought now. But ultimately it’s difficult to ignore. Especially when your eyes drift up and you notice something dangling in the corner of your eye. 

“Yunie” you say, lightly petting his shoulder. 

Yunho strokes your hair, looking down at you lovingly, “Yes, baby?”

“I think his hand’s still attached to the handcuff.”

[nymphbnny]

room 609

────── nanami kento

⤷ general.manager!nanami who can’t help but be seduced by your little receptionist fit and wit.

tw: age gap (20s ; 40s), kind of a slow burn to porn, masturbation (male), seductive touching,mating press, dirty talk, praise, doggy, slight riding, minor daddy kink, oral (fem) , fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, not read proof MDNI

pssst!! i missed you guys so much <3 i hope you enjoy this piece i’ve prepared for you. i’ll get to my inbox asks as soon as i can. love and kisses xoxo

“sir you booked your room b&b, which means your breakfast is included in the pricing of your room regardless if you have it or not. i can’t reimburse you.” you explained for the tenth time to the stubborn guest on the other side of the desk. you’ve already had a long day and were close to ending your shift until he came and disrupted your plans.

“is there a problem here?” he uttered, making both of your heads turn at him. nanami was standing by the reception, probably aware of the silly conflict thanks to the cameras he installed. it was a good thing that not only they showed him what was happening but he could also hear the entire discussion.

you looked down at your french nails, not saying a word as the client went out on his rant. haven’t you done that, you would’ve noticed how your superiors would casually gaze at you, unfazed by the ongoing monologue.

“how about that sir,” nanami spoke up, his eyes now fully fixated on the man. “let’s say i rented a room at your place, bed, and breakfast included, and you end up preparing one of the most exquisite breakfast only for me to reject your hospitality and ask you to pay me back that breakfast, disregarding all the care and effort you put to make me feel at home. how would that make you feel?”

silence. utter and complete awkward silence.

you were so stunned and yet nothing could match the man’s face. this was the first time you heard nanami use that tone, or even speak that much for that matter. you thought he was done until he proceeded: “you booked your room fully aware that you were paying for both the room and the breakfast. i hope there won’t be any further issues.” he adjusted the glasses on his face before stoically watching him pay his stay then check out. “hm if you can’t handle silly conflicts call me. i don’t need to be babysitting you 24/7.”

you couldn’t even reply or apologize as he turned around and left. it took you a minute to realize he undermined your skills and humiliated you. you clenched your teeth and furiously grabbed your bag. you were stomping so hard on the marble floor you were sure that the guests could hear you. “babysitting my ass,” you grunted.

you’ve been working as a receptionist for almost a year. you knew what you were doing but he always had to butt in and comment on everything you did. just to tick you. he clearly didn’t seem to care when your colleague answered a call in front of a guest and began cussing at her sister loudly. but you, whatever you'd do, there was always an aftermath about it with nanami. it wasn't like you were particularly fond of your job, it was only temporary.

you couldn’t say anything to him or complain to anyone about him since he was the general manager of the hotel but your patience was wearing thin and you were seriously considering quitting. nanami was an arrogant man. an attractive one, unfortunately. he could capture the attention of a room in seconds. always composed and well-groomed. god he smelled heavenly too. you could try to deny your tiny crush all you wanted but it was there. his praise meant a lot to you. when you first began working here, his compliments happened often, almost daily. whether it's how much of a 'fast learner you are', or how you're doing 'a good job'. you'd get high on them. having a general manager like nanami praise you was everything you needed to boost your self-esteem. however, the moment you got comfortable around him, throwing a few hand waves whenever you saw him passing by the lobby or even knocking on his door without calling his office first to check if he had time to see you, it was all gone and soon replaced with constant scolding.

you knew that nanami was a serious man. a workaholic. albeit he’d always find ways to slightly touch you, brush up against you, squeeze you into your desk to pass behind you with his hands on your hips to ‘grab some papers’ although he had copies. sometimes he’d even go as far as to reprimand you for unbuttoning the very first two buttons of your dress shirt, scolding you for showing a bad image of his hotel.

“so unprofessional,” he tutted. “this isn’t a brothel. you’re not supposed to seduce the guests.” he murmured as he fixed them for you. you were looking at him with doe eyes, your crush undeniable at that moment, your chest heavily moving as he was unbelievably close to you, his fingers lightly brushing your exposed skin. “i didn’t know that a few buttons could seduce someone.” you lowly replied, your tone lining with slyness and quip. nanami looked down at your chest one last time before humming, his phone ringing in his pocket.

nanami treatment for you was paradoxical. he got off teasing you. especially when you first came into his office to present yourself after your interview. you were wearing your black pencil skirt and loose tucked-in white shirt. as respectful as he was, he was still a man. he couldn't help his eyes that lingered on your exposed legs, up to your tight skirt and beautiful curves. he'd be lying if he didn't think about you spread on his desk, his cock buried inside you with his tie wrapped around your wrists, holding your tits together.

she is so receptive, he’d think. watching you work and obey. you were so obedient to his commands and wishes. made him wonder if you were receptive in bed too.

he saw you the next day going into the hr's office, nobara's, to receive your paycheck. his office wasn’t far and he always passed by each department to check if everything was intact. “thank you so much, oh also could i have tomorrow off?” you inquired as you got up, not sensing the presence of the tall blond man behind you.

“sure but i’d have to double check with mr- oh! there you are!” she shrieked as she saw nanami. you turned your head to catch him looking down at you. he was wearing a black shirt with black chinos. fuck me, you thought. if he didn’t call you out of your daze you’d probably have trailed too far down his body and gawked at his print.

“what do you need your off for? it’s the first of the month.” he deadpanned. truth be told it didn’t matter when you wanted to have your day off as long as your colleagues could cover your shift. moreover, he had no right to ask you why you needed your day off. it was personal and he was breaching your privacy.

“well, mr nanami,” a glimpse sparkled in his eyes at the pronunciation of his name. “i need to have a breath of fresh air. a change of environment.“ you said tilting your head a little to the side. you were holding the envelope between your fingers, waiting for his reply. “i guess if nabora granted you a day off then you should be good to go. have a nice day.”

nanami left to his office, nobara snickering behind you. you got pretty close with her throughout the year. you shared the same interests and often hung out together and tomorrow was going to be one of those days.

you’d go out to blow off some steam — get black-out drunk — and dance around like idiots. your team was amazing and you were so grateful nobara was so fun to be around. everyone was generally nice, well, almost everyone.

you’d go out every once a week. it was your thing. sometimes you’d go to each other's places and have a small gossip about some of your colleagues, sometimes you’d do both.

“god that was so nice,” nobara slurred out as you got to her apartment. your day off paid well. fresh salary got you pretty nails and a pretty meal before you went to the club and had a few shots. it was packed to the brim but you didn’t mind. it was a different atmosphere and you've been dying for some nightlife. you took off your short dress, and a few flashbacks of how you were grinding against the handsome man went through your mind.

if it weren’t for nobara pulling you away to do more shots, you’d probably have gone home with him. both of you were slurring your words, drunkenly spilling the hot gossip about every employee in the hotel.

“— and i told him that! he is just sooooo,” she trailed before proceeding, her hand on your thigh. “dumb!” she laughed, throwing her entire body back and collapsing on her bed. man, you loved work gossip. you were fully entertaining nobara, both of you in your silk pajamas.

you were slowly drifting away, your eyelids getting heavier until she dropped his name in the conversation, your body uncontrollably shooting up. “my my, don’t be so alarmed.” she snickered. “i thought you saw him at the club. i was calling you to come say hi but you were so busy grinding against that hot mess.” she nudged you with her elbow before falling back on her back.

pause. press pause now.

“nanami was there?” you could only mutter out. while you failed to spot him, he, on the other hand, most definitely saw you. your blood ran cold and you began overthinking. you knew he wasn’t your boss outside of your work environment, he couldn’t scold you. yet you kept on worrying.

“hey you good?” she asked worriedly, your face scrunching up. “god you act so weird every time i bring him up. almost as if you like him.” nobara giggled. your eyes widened. “i do not!” you almost yelled defensively.

she was quiet for a second, remembering your interactions with him. how he treated you differently than others. harsher and almost too controlling. as fun as nobara was, she was still one of the smartest people you ever worked with. she could smell it a mile away. you liked him.

“you’re drunk and making things up.” your voice softened up. “he’s so mean. i don’t get why he’s so harsh with me. and all the touching…” you trailed, the alcohol not helping you think clearly. you looked beside you to find nobara asleep, her snores gradually becoming stronger. you scoffed at your friend before grabbing your phone from your purse and rewatching the stories you posted.

you noticed a new name amongst your usual views, your brows furrowing in confusion.

nanamikento

nanami was on social media? and how did he find your account? you used a fake name. knowing you won't be hearing the end of it, you decided to sleep it off and gather all the energy you could need for tomorrow.

you didn't even have time to salute the night audit as the phone rang the second you stepped into the reception area. nanami. you internally sighed and mentally prepared yourself for what you might tell him as you made your way to his office. you knocked on his door and he lowly asked you to come in and have a seat on his leather couches. you take a seat in front of him and before he even has the chance to glance at you, your tongue lets loose. "mr. nanami i know you saw my Instagram stories last night however this is none of your concern and i don’t feel like i should be called in here to be scolded for doing something that isn’t hurtful to my work environment. i'm a highly professional and punctual employee and i strongly believe that i don't need to be hearing any more scolding coming from you."

while you felt empowered by your monologue, nanami didn't seem fazed at all. he glanced up at you when you started talking, not blinking once before deadpanning: "i frankly couldn't bother to care about what you do outside this hotel therefore your personal life is no bother to me. however what does bother me indeed," he said standing up before walking around his desk and towering over you, "is the way you just spoke to me."

god, he was so close you could feel his breath lingering on your lips. it was only natural for you to feel more embarrassed and humiliated about what happened. you gulped before looking up at him, your lips hesitant to move. "mr. nanami i apologize for my rude behavior. i sincerely do. i- i just, you always seem to want to scold me whatever i do and i thought that this time-"

"are you saying i have a poor sense of judgment and scold you because i want to?" his hands were now on each side of the couch, caging you in as he leaned further down. you leaned back, breath labored. he didn't look like it but he was enjoying every second.

she's so beautiful when she's all flustered and red. squeezing her thighs together and fiddling with her pretty nails from embarrassment and i haven't touched her yet. he didn't expect you to answer his question. he was just trying to get you all worked up.

he couldn't help but be mean to you. at first, you were just another e, employee to him. needy of his praise to rise through the ranks and become better and more efficient at their job. needing and thriving for motivational words to get the job done. but the more he spoke to you and watched you get warm around him, the less control he had over himself.

"mr. nanami i printed out all the vouchers you asked for and contacted the travel agency to confirm all the guests for tomorrow's wedding. oh, and i thought i'd ask room service to bring you your lunch here. i couldn't help but notice you didn't have time to sit with us at lunch today." you smiled at him, your hands interlocked as you stood in front of his desk. he grinned at you, grabbing the papers you gently put on his desk with your soft hands. "that's very kind of you y/n. i would've asked you to join me but as you can see i'm busy."

"oh yes, definitely mr. nanami i wouldn't want to bother you anyway. if you'll excuse me i need to go back to the lobby. goodbye." you turned on your heels and exited his office leaving him and his print that was clear as day.

"fhuck," he groaned as he stroked his throbbing cock, his hand leaning against his bathroom in a fist with his head down, eyes shut as he imagined you were sucking him instead. he'd always get worked up because of you. how small and innocent you looked. so kind, so mesmerizing. so fragile compared to him. "fucking hell y/n, mhm," his hand going faster, squeezing his swollen tip. "just like that pretty," he whimpered thinking about your lips wrapped around his tip kissing and teasing his slit before he came all over his hand. nanami breathed out, ashamed that a small interaction turned him into a raging teenage boy fucking his fist secretly in the bathroom. he knew he needed more, touch you, scold you, anything to get a reaction out of you.

"mr. nanami please don't fire me. you're right i poorly acted." your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he was glad it did or else you'd start by noticing the growing bulge in his dress pants.

he leaned back up and went back to his chair, discreetly fixing himself. "there's a group of guests coming at two in the afternoon, approximately sixty to seventy people. i need you to start working on the rooming list before they arrive to have a smooth check-in and make sure all the rooms are well cleaned." he fixed his glasses and looked at his laptop.

"but, wasn't the rooming list supposed to be done two weeks ago i don't understand." doing this on your own is suicide. it wasn't a small group. he's talking about sixty to seventy people. it's impossible.

"i called you hear for this reason. i need you to do it because unfortunately we just were recently notified due to lack of expertise and this group is going to stay over a few months, losing them would be idiotic." he muttered the last bit and kept on typing on his laptop. "you are dismissed. i trust you can get the work done."

your eyebrows arched up as your mind wondered if your ears were playing tricks on you or if he just said something nice. you decided to ignore it and go back to work. you had no time to waste and to your bad luck, today you were alone at the front desk.

"i’m actually so tired i cannot feel my fingers. i’ve been typing all day nonstop only to be rewarded with a small good job from nanami. like i literally cannot take his shit anymore, i told you what happened earlier in his office." you huffed. "i don’t understand why he acts this way with me! he’s so indifferent and i genuinely can't stand him." you dropped onto her bed lying back and looked up at the ceiling. she snickered and laughed next to you. she knows you're annoyed because of your silly crush. parts of you wanted him to be jealous of that guy you were rubbing yourself on. god knows he was.

"well," she paused as she sat next to you. "you’re gonna have to tolerate him tonight babes because we are seeing him outside of work. now before you start talking again," she exclaimed silencing you with a finger against your lips and making you pout. "we all had a tiring day today and we know we’re going to be quite busy and overwhelmed for the next few months to come so the owner decided to give some of us, well the hard workers, access to one of his private members' club to blow off some steam and award us for the general good job we’ve been doing. anyway, nanami is gonna be there so i want you to get over the crush you have on him and no don't deny it because the sooner we can get ready the better."

you glare at her. nobara was right but you were a stubborn person. "absolutely not". you interject as you stand up and throw your phone on the bed. "i am not going out to party with a man who constantly insults me. i refuse to go out with a man who looks down on me for no reason and have to pretend to enjoy my time tonight around him just so he doesn’t have any smart retort to say to me. i want to dress up however i want, i want to dance, i want to drink and I want to get black-out drunk and not have anyone reprimand me or scold me for my behavior and i’m not going to be able to do that if he’s going to be there." you put your hands on your waist and sighed when you caught nobara holding her laughter with pursed lips.

"nobara i can see that you’re going to burst." she starts laughing and falls back on her back. "oh man, i didn't know you cared about nanami kento that much. lord," she kept on laughing, her mouth wide open and arms holding her stomach. "girl fuck you." you blushed. "i'm not going and that's final." you rolled your eyes, and sat on her couch.

this was starting to become very frustrating.

"this place is amazing!" nobara yelled in your ear as you walked into the club. you ended up caving in. although you had your stand on the situation, you still wanted to see him. you wanted to look at him. you were curious to know if he dressed differently outside of work or if he acted differently. you were feeling pretty confident. you looked stunning. a black dress that wrapped beautifully around your body and matching black, red bottom heels.

his eyes landed on you the second you stepped through the door. he was sitting on one of the couches where the other invitees were, swirling his bourbon in his hand. once he noticed nobara spotting him, he stood up, downing his drink in one swing, and adjusted his clothes.

you locked eyes with him, your heart dropping instantly. he was wearing a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and casual pants that fit him just perfectly and tonight he wasn't wearing his glasses. he is so handsome, you thought to yourself. nobara walked up to him first, hugging him casually as if he wasn't her superior.

you, on the other hand, were too shy to do so as well. instead, you extended your hand, only for him to catch it and pull you to his chest, arm wrapping around your waist tightly while his other arm was wrapped around your shoulders to rest his hand on your head, keeping you in place. your heart was beating so fast you could hear it beat louder than the music around you.

you closed your eyes, taking into his smell as your arms unconsciously found their way around his back, the pads of your fingers lingering on the muscles. "you smell good," he whispered in your ear, your skin burning at his compliment. "you look stunning as well," he added before letting you go of his embrace, your heart sinking at the loss of his touch. "thank you, you look good yourself." you said, the tips of your ears red. you were going to explode.

and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, you saw him smile at you. a genuine ass smile. did he have too much to drink? you couldn't6 think about anything else to say as your hand was abruptly taken by nobara to drag you to the bar to do shots.

you glanced at him one last time before your view was hidden by the people in the crowd.

"i'm so fucking hammered!" nobara exclaimed while the others cheered with her, doing more shots. everyone looked so drunk. you didn't let yourself drink too much. you couldn't afford to be drunk and forget about what happened with nanami or worse, act like a drunk in front of him. that couldn't happen. you had to stay composed.

"let's dance! come on y/n show them!" nobara cheered while you shook your head, everyone else encouraging you. "come on we're all gonna dance." another coworker said.

you were dragged to the dancefloor and decided to just enjoy it. at the end of the day, you were here to blow off some steam and this is what you were about to do. you danced and swayed your hips to the music, laughing at nobara's weird dance moves. it's the first time you realize how ridiculous she looks drunk dancing.

hands on your waist made you jump, your hands over them, eager to get them off you. "it's me," nanami reassured you in your ear. you looked around only to find out that it was really him, hands on your waist, moving with you to the music, your back pressed firmly against him. your ass rubbed against him while you moved, only making him hold you tighter. "mr nanami, i don't think this is appropriate." you try to say, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea.

"they're all drunk," he turned you around, his hands dropping to your hips. "you don't mind dancing with a stranger but you do so with me?" he cocked his eyebrow, his face turning as he looked down at you.

part of you was giddy about it. so it did bother him.

"i thought you didn't care mr nanami-"

"kento." he deadpanned. "call me kento."

"kento..." you muttered, your eyes softening at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck only to drop them at his shoulders. you wanted to touch him all over.

"i lied. it enraged me. i felt jealous, i wanted to be the one to touch you like he did, better than he did." you felt dizzy. you were a smart girl though. it slowly started making sense to you. the bullying, the accidental touching. all of it.

"you want to touch me kento?" you reached to his ear to whisper, kissing his ear before tugging at his lobe. you dragged his hand down your ass, urging him to touch you. you could hear him hiss, his hand now gripping your ass. "hm." he hummed feeling the plump of your ass.

the music was so loud and everyone was acting promiscuously drunk around you. no one seemed to notice how gentle nanami’s touch was on you despite the atmosphere that would invite to a harsher and more sexual kind of touching. he was allowing his hand to go over your curves, giving himself permission to drag his fingers underneath the curve of your ass, up your hips and waist to finally caress your cleavage.

as much as he’s been dreaming about ripping off your clothes and taking you on his desk, he couldn’t bring himself to be rough with you.

you looked so beautiful so gentle. “kento?” your voice drove his eyes back to yours. “so gorgeous,” he put his hand on your cheek. “so soft,” your skin was on fire. you felt your goosebumps rise as his thumb worked his way to separate your lips.

“take me to your place.” your boldness taking him by surprise. you wrapped your hand around his bicep, pressing yourself further into him.

“i can’t, it’s not appropriate.” nanami coughed, still holding you against him, not truly convinced by his own statement.

you looked at the blond male with doe eyes, tilting your head. pushing yourself up on the tip of your toes you gave his neck a small kiss, feeling his body tense up as you did so. “please,” you begged against his skin. “please kento,” you kept on giving his skin kitten kisses, his fingers almost digging into your skin.

he looked down at your pleading eyes, then down to your cleavage that was pressing against him. “the things you do to me,”

“what things?” you whisper, your lips almost touching his. you were feeling a bit more courageous now that you’ve discovered that your crush was clearly reciprocated. “don’t you wanna show me?” you finger trailed down his chest to his pants before poking his print. he choked in some air, quickly having a sense of alert as he skimmed his surroundings, not wanting anybody to start any gossip.

“they’re all drunk nanami, it’s just you and me,” you reached out to his face, turning him so he could face you again.

without any second thought, he wrapped his big hand around yours and dragged you out of the crowded dance floor towards the exit. you couldn’t help but bite down on your smile, watching how his back muscles flexed as he made his way through the dancing bodies, carefully ever checking that you were still following him although he had your hand secured in his.

once you were outside, he asked the valet to bring up his car. his hand on your thigh the whole ride, giving you small caresses of reassurance. you couldn’t help but take notice of his tenderness, how handsome his looked while driving. you wondered if he looked that good being on top of you as well.

and he was.

“kento~” you whimpered, your legs resting on his shoulders as he bullied his fat cock inside you. you’d try to move around, get more, feel more.

“be my good girl and let daddy take care of you.” he rolled his hips into you, your warmth and wetness coating him. the nickname he had given himself already making you all wobbly.

you nodded, your eyebrows furrowed as he thrusted at an unbelievably slow aching pace, giving you long and deep stroke against your walls. “if only you knew,” he grunted, pulling back before pushing back in all that once, earning a small yelp from your beautifully parted lips. “how much i’ve been wanting to fold you like this.” nanami rested his forehead against yours, his lips capturing yours.

you moaned against his lips, your fingernails tracing shapes on his muscled back as he picked his pace up. nanami’s kisses were hungry, a real evidence of his earlier statement. he’s been wanting this for so long. “kento, you feel so good inside me,” you murmured through his lips, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer.

your words made him tremble, his hips slamming faster against your thighs. “i never want to get out, god i want to fill you up so badly,” he stated almost in a weak whimper. you rocked your hips with him, trying to meet him at each move. but he was unpredictable.

flipping you around and arching your back, getting a full view of your ass and swollen cunt. “so messy,” he dragged his finger across your folds making you shiver, before pushing his finger in. you moaned out, your hand reaching to hold onto the headboard.

he was having fun with you now, pushing his finger at first then adding another, before removing them both to rub on your abused clit only to stop before your climax to finger you again.

“kento please,” you whimpered trying to move yourself back and get some friction from his dick but he tutted, removing your hand away. “you’re my good girl remember? my good girl always does what she’s told isn’t that right?” he inquired, rubbing his swollen tip against your entrance.

you nodded against his scented pillow, submissively putting both hands behing your back, showing your surrender to him. “that’s it, such a good fucking girl,” he muttered, his length pushing against your folds again, this time a tad harsher accompanied with a spank on your cheeks. “so good darling, so good,”

his nicknames got you high. his praise got you high. your hips were thrown back, almost as if you were managing his thrusts. he let you, watching how you would roll your hips and guide yourself through your orgasm.

“kento…” you whimpered, tears filling your eyes as you creamed over his girth. “come for daddy sweetheart that’s it,” he encouraged you, wrapping his hand around you to toy with your clit, sending you over the edge.

“so messy,” he chuckled watching you lose control over him. nanami pulled out and before you could complain he was down on his knees and eating your cum that was leaking from your abused hole. “oh my god, fhuck yes daddy,” you rode his face, enjoying the feeling of his tongue scooping your cum, his hands firmly gripping your ass to pull your cheeks apart.

you felt yourself overstimulated, ready for another orgasm. he could feel it too by the way your thighs were jiggling.

using his middle and ring finger, nanami spread you again, curling them inside your walls to rub your spot. you were such a mess. creaming on his fingers and blabbering on his pillow.

“you’re so sensitive, i love it,” he smirked, giving your ass a small bite before licking off your cum from his fingers.

you felt his weight lie next to you, rolling your body over. “are you okay?” he carefully pushed the hair away from your face. you nodded with a smile. once you realized he was done it quickly faded.

“you haven’t came yet.” you held his arm. he chuckled. “but you did. plus you seem tired i don’t want to push myself.” he sheepishly said.

you shook your head refusing. “no,” you got up and straddled him, lining his dick to your entrance before fully sitting on him.

“holy fuck what are you doing?” nanami asked you, watching you wrap your arms around him. “gonna make you come inside me,” you sultry answered, to which he held your hips with his hands, guiding your bouncing body. his lips parted to the way your eyes rolled back. you looked so fucked out it was mesmerizing.

you tits bouncing up and down with the motions of your body followed by yelps of his name.

“come inside me daddy,” you mewled in his ear, holding onto his shoulders. you could feel him groan as he began to fuck himself up into you, soon unloading his balls inside you.

you felt dizzy to the feeling of his warm seed, grinding yourself on him to make sure to receive it all.

you rested your face in the crook of his neck before letting out a small laughter. “never thought you’d be such a dirty man mr. nanami,”

he only laughed in return. “and you haven’t even seen the beginning of it.”

[alkaline-wtr]

Simon x roommate!reader

PART 2

Description: Simon finds out Readers dirty little secret. Genre/Warnings: Ghost x plus size!reader, masturbation, light smut, roommate au, reader has female anatomy, Simon is also kind of a creep, one-shot WC:

My Masterlist

** I Finally got around to finishing part two of this. I might have another part in mind if y'all want it. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays. Enjoy.

<< Pt 1

He'd seen you that afternoon, watching him like you had something to say. Simon came home that evening from the gym. The bottom of his compression shirt riding up over his waist.

He was standing in the kitchen gulping down a glass of tap water his eyes met yours for a moment. You realized he caught you staring and looked away quickly.

At first Simon racked his brain just trying to figure out what he had done that could be bothering you. Did he leave his dishes in the sink too long? Forget to move his laundry over to the dryer Whatever it was you were clearly uncomfortable and not ready to bring it up just yet.

He brushed it aside and gave you the space to come to him when you were ready. But his suspicions grew when he started to pay more attention to your behavior and body language. The way your eyes raked over every part of him but refused to meet his own. Or how you shifted in your seat whenever he was close.

The most tell-tale sign was how your round cheeks heated up and plush thighs pressed together if you'd seen him in any less than a hoodie and jeans. Truthfully, he found it cute, the little schoolgirl crush. At least that’s what he suspected it to have been.

He was only proven correct that morning when you’d lied to him

"Must've been asleep. I never heard a thing."

Sure the blush in your cheeks could've been from the awkwardness of the situation, as he was apologizing for his inconsideration and volume level during a passionate encounter the night before. But, if youd truly been asleep that wouldnt have explained how youd left your room just moments after hed walked the girl out. He’d watched you cross the hall from the darkness of the livingroom head straight to the bathroom in only panties and a shirt.

Simon didn’t press the matter, letting it stew in the back of his mind as he continued to observe you.

However, it was the day he’d come home early, something he didn’t do often, that he’d finally gotten some truth.

Not directly of course. Simon had come into the house quietly, staying in the kitchen to brew some tea. You hadn’t heard him come in especially since he hadn’t passed by your room.

As Simon stood tiredly against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, he enjoyed the fleeting moment of silence. His ears perking up when he’d heard a muffled moan vibrate through the hallway from beyond your bedroom door.

Maybe he was just mistaken. That couldn’t have been… But, when it happened again, Simon was sure he’d heard correctly. Were you?

He crept down the hall leaning his forearm on the doorframe and tilted his ear closer to the door.

The moans continued, backed by a faint buzzing noise the sound of a toy you’d reserved for times when Simon wasn’t around.

He was getting more excited by the thoughts that filled his mind, imagining what you must look like right now. What were you wearing, if anything at all. What position were you in? How big was the toy? Or toys??

Simon felt a tent growing in his jeans aching to spring free. He contemplated going back outside and coming in louder so you would know he was home. He didn’t want to embarrass you, but as he turned to head back down the hall, it was the breathy sound of his own name uttered from your lips that stop him in his tracks.

His ear was back on the door in seconds, internally pleading for you to say it again. It took everything he had not to barge into your room right now and see you for himself. That was his name. You had uttered his name while pleasuring yourself? Maybe it was an accident, a coincidence, or he was just the closest and most available fuel for fantasy.

Simon held his breath as he listened. He let his mind wander imagining himself hovering over you with his muscular frame, pressing your knees to your chest as he slowly pushed into you, keeping a slow and steady rhythm with his hips to coax out more moans from your soft lips.

God how he wished he could take you in this moment. He imagined pressing the palm of his large hand against your soft tummy. Your thighs wrapping around him holding him inside you. He wanted to kiss every inch of you biting at the fat of your hip before burying his nose between your folds.

Simon twisted the button of his jeans between his thumb and forefinger until the two flaps of fabric snapped apart. His fingertips teased himself through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Before he knew it, he had his hand wrapped around his freed cock, thumb smoothing the precum over his head. He was never more grateful for his stealth than in this moment as he held back a grunt of pleasure.

His fist squeezed tighter around the veiny flesh he stepped back from the door pressing his back to the opposite wall too afraid you’d hear his heavy breaths through the thin barrier of the door.

He could tell you were close as your moans grew louder and more sporadic.

This was wrong. You were his roommate, and this was a complete invasion of your privacy. You remained unaware of his presence in the hallway. He closed his eyes continuing to pump his calloused hand over the stiff shaft.

What would you think finding him like this outside your door, he was a creep. A disgusting insatiable man, driven only by his desires. He found himself no longer caring about being caught the closer he came to his climax.

A faint squeal echoed through the door as you reached your peak. The tightness in his core released washing over him in waves. Simon bit his lip behind the mask to suppress a groan. Desperately clutching his free hand over the tip of his throbbing cock to catch the strings of cum that spilled out hot and sticky between his fingers.

He blinked a few times allowing the high to fade. The tea kettle whistled loudly from the kitchen. He froze.

There was a shuffling on the other side of the door as Simon frantically shoved himself back in his jeans and hurried back to the kitchen to rinse his hand off in the sink.

You peered into the kitchen from the hall, eyes wide in embarrassment wondering just how much he had heard.

"You're home."

You squeak out in surprise. Simon's back is to you as he pours the hot water in his mug. He only grunts in response.

"Wh- when did you..."

You trailed off.

"Just now."

He says, turning to rest against the counter. he pulls off his mask and blows on the steamy liquid. You nod slowly.

"Did... did you hear anything?"

You cringed at your own question. Simon took a sip from his mug and raised an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

You felt a slight pang of relief.

"Nothing. Never mind."

You smile doing your best to brush off the subject,

"Well… Wecome home."

You turn retreating back down the hall and Simon smirks to himself. It was a hell of a welcome.

[milla-frenchy]

Under pressure

0k6 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Warnings: 18+ mdni. rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, piv, anal play, spit as lube, anal, creampie, qz!joel has his own warnings No age specified

a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing 😘💕 Gif in the mood board by @pedropascalito 🙏

Masterlist

**********

Joel was fucking tired and pissed. Tired of this post outbreak world, tired of what he had to do with Tommy to survive years ago, tired of smuggling with Tess, and fucking pissed at the FEDRA soldiers and Robert's men.

The only time he wasn't tired was when his cock was splitting you in two, and that each trust of his hips helped him release the pressure. Using you to get off, thrusting harder, deeper. Feeding himself on your moans and your walls surrounding his fat cock.

Even when you rode him, you were never in charge. His hands clamped on your hips, he pounded into you as he pushed his cock upward, piercing your core. Sliding his hand into the crack of your ass, pushing a knuckle into your tight ring to hear you groan more. Taking more, always more.

“Joel, too much…” you stammered, barely managing to find your words.

"Shut the fuck up. Ya know what to do if ya really want it to stop.”

You knew. But you never dared to stop him. Never really wanted to. Because you too needed to relieve the pressure, and only Joel’s cock helped you to do that.

You moaned again, he was fucking your pussy so hard, his finger in your ass, caged in his arms, that you didn't know what you felt anymore.

“Take it. Just fuckin’ take it,” he said, thrusting ever harder.

“Fuck…”

Suddenly he stood up, keeping you impaled on his shaft, his jeans pooling on his old boots, until he put you on your feet next to the couch. Leaning you abruptly over it, and thrusting his thick cock in your core, bottoming out in one go. One hand pressed between your shoulder blades to force you to stay bent forward, his other hand on your hip as leverage.

“Always so fuckin’ tight, no matter how long I fuck this cunt”, he spat through his clenched jaws.

You bit the cushion just as his thumb returned to its favorite spot. You wondered if he was going to fuck your ass. If he was so tired, so pissed, that he would need more. Before you even thought about it, you breathed out, “Joel…fuck my ass. Now, please.”

He sneered, “where’s “Joel, too much” whine gone, huh, sweetheart? Such a slut for this cock.”

You felt the big drop of saliva hit your asshole, your buttcheeks spread by his big hands, just before his tip pressed against your ring. Way too tight for his big cock. He spat again, on his shaft this time, to wet it a little more.

Biting the cushion wasn't enough anymore, when he pushed in. Your nails dug into his hand placed on your hip, while his other hand now grabbed your shoulder to help him dive in harder, further. As if he was still in your pussy. It was the only way you and him were able to forget your lives.

He grunted for a few seconds before cumming, his cock twitching in your sore ass. And finally, he shot his load in your depths, leaning forward to bite your shoulder. His torso pressed against your back, all the daily life of the QZ disappeared. The twenty years that had just passed.

“So cockdumb, when I fuck you like this”, he said, pulling out, as his cum flowed out of your hole. 

He tucked his cock in his jeans, and poured himself a glass of whiskey which he drank in one go. He looked at his hand bleeding from your nails. And he handed one glass to you when you finally managed to get up. 

And you wondered how long it would take before life got too much. And that you would go knock on his door, or him on yours, to forget all of it again.

***************

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[borathae]

Galaxies

"You and he create galaxies when you are together."

Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Comfort Smut, Slice of Life Fluff

Warnings: Domish switch!Yoongi, subby switch!Reader, they're actual soulmates, their connection is so deep i'm in pain, love making, having to stay quiet, some flirty bickering because it's them, a short sexy fight about Dominance, oral (both receiving), handjob, pussy fingering, eye contact & hand holding, lots of kissing, he eats her pussy in multiple ways, and worships her breasts, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampie, slight strength kink but make it magical, cowgirl position morphing into lotus position, dirty talk but make it romantic with a pinch of sexy, something magical happens between them, cuddles & snuggles & giggles for aftercare, they're so in love i'm gonna cry

Wordcount: 8k

a/n: i always thought that i couldn't get any more obsessed with them and then i introduced witch!yoongi x witch!reader and i actually became INSANE for them like i'm in pain they're meant for each other 😭💜

《 Bonus Smut to this 》

Yoongi is under the covers, reading, when you enter the room. He looks at you and looks away instantly, doing a terrible job at hiding the widening of his eyes. A flush of his cheeks follows.

“Are you being shy because I’m in my towel?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“I’m not shy”, he defends himself, staring into his book obsessively.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you say and drop the towel to change into your pyjamas instead. 

Yoongi doesn’t look at you directly even once, but tries to sneak one hidden glance from the corner of his eyes. 

“I saw that”, you tease him for it.

“I didn’t do anything. Whatever, good night”, he babbles and slams the book closed, proceeding to lie down on his side with his back facing you.

He makes you laugh. He is so effortlessly funny.

“Gosh, you silly you. What’s the matter?” you coo, bending down to hug him. 

He has his eyes closed and lips pulled into a thin line, almost as if he is trying really hard not to look. 

You snicker, pecking his cheek.

“I love your silly bum” you say, giving his butt a soft slap as you straighten back up.

Yoongi grumbles something unintelligible.

You bring the towel into the bathroom to dry and get two glasses of water from downstairs. Your grandparents have gone to sleep already, Taehyung and Jungkook seem to have come home as well, judging by the painting equipment on the dining table. They are nowhere to be found, however their jackets are missing. They must be outside. You could look for them, but quite frankly and with no ill intent, you don’t want to. You want to go back to Yoongi and tease him some more.

The man of your hour is back to reading.

“I’ve got water”, you announce yourself, placing the glasses on the bedside table. 

“Mmh.”

You climb onto Yoongi’s lap, staying there for a little until he finally looks at you over the edge of his book. He cocks his right brow up in question.

“Boop”, you say, poking the tip of his nose with your finger.

He blinks rapidly, moving his head back like a cat surprised about being touched. He even ogles your finger, going a little cross eyed for it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most boopable nose ever?” 

“What?” 

“Boop”, you do it again, forcing Yoongi to show off his double chin from how aggressively he tries to ogle your finger.

“What are you doing?” his voice is distorted from the position.

“Has no one booped your nose before?” 

“What? No?” 

“Boop.”

“What is that? Why are you doing this?” he sounds so adorably stressed about the unfamiliar affection.

You have to laugh, cradling his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss on the nose.

“You’re so fucking adorable, gosh you”, you say, biting his nose softly before giving it a second kiss. 

You sit back, sliding your hands to his chest. His pulse is a little raised. Cute.

“It’s affection. It’s nice. When you boop someone it means that they’re being playful with you and that they think a part of you is especially cute”, you explain and poke his nose, “boop.”

“Okay?” he tilts his head to the side, lifting his right hand to poke your nose, “boop?”

“Yes, exactly, but you have to raise your pitch as you do it. Like this. Boop.”

“Boop”, he barely raises his pitch.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. His eyes soften, he lets out a breathy chuckle, poking your nose again.

“Boop”, his voice was perfectly pitched.

“This was perfect”, you exclaim, wiggling on his lap because he makes you so giddy.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says in a chuckle, looking back into his book with a slight shake of his head. He is smiling to himself. 

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, rolling off of him to drop into the pillow. You stretch your arms from yourself, tracing his outer thigh like this.

You have luminescent stars on your ceiling. When you were little, you always counted them until you fell asleep. You find yourself doing it again, except that you can’t seem to get sleepy enough. You are a little droopy, but definitely not sleepy. Yoongi finished a chapter in the time you counted the glowing stars, now finding himself in the middle of the next chapter when you roll to your side beside him. 

You are under the covers, having them pulled up all the way to your ears. 

Yoongi notices your eyes on him and looks down. You are gazing at him as if he was the brightest star in this room, giving him a cute toothless smile the moment your eyes meet.

“Should I turn off the lights?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“I counted the stars a hundred times”, you tell him.

“You did?”

“Yeah”, your smile grows, the sparkle in your eyes does as well.

Yoongi feels his pulse speed up just a little.

“I like looking at you”, you say, showing him your teeth in a grin.

Yoongi is melting. You are so adorable.

He brushes the back of his hand down your cheek. You accept the affection with closed eyes.

“You’re beautiful”, he says softly, looking back into his book.

He tries to pull his hand back, but you stop him with a small “no”.

He studies you curiously. You are turning your back to him, wiggling it out of the blanket.

“Can I have scratches?”

Yoongi begins to scratch your back wordlessly, holding the book with his other hand and using his thumb to flip the page. He’s got the hand size for it. 

You like this so much. Back scratches are the best thing ever. They are so tingly and relaxing. Yoongi never stays at one place for too long, touching whatever inch he could reach and alternating between different patterns. He also switches between using his fingertips and using his nails, adding such amazing sensations to the innocent affection.

You are significantly sleepier when Yoongi’s arm grows tired and he has to take a short break by scratching your scalp instead. You showed him how he could do it best in order not to tug on your hair or damage it and he is doing it exactly like that, using a little bit of pressure because you like it. 

You visibly melt into the touch, inching closer to him until your butt touches his leg. You let out a little sound of comfort, nodding your head.

Yoongi looks at you, lowering the book for a moment. Something inside him shifts into the right place, granting him access to his sweetest realization.

He is actually taken.

He has someone who sees him worthy to date. 

He makes someone feel safe in his presence, safe enough that she loves him.

He can be gentle and soft and tender. He can make someone feel good.

He isn’t alone anymore, holy fuck, he is actually taken.

This is his reality.

Yoongi places the book aside to spoon you instead, putting his arms around you so he can pull you against his chest. He buries his nose in your neck, giving you a soft squeeze. 

You giggle, snuggling into him instantly.

“My princess”, he whispers.

“Your heart is racing so much.”

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too, my love.”

“Mhm my princess”, he lets out in a breath, following it up with a kiss to your cheek.

“Tickles”, you snicker.

He chuckles with you, wrestling you gently until you are on your back and he can kiss every inch of your face. You accept it with a racing heart and butterflies in your stomach. The day must have been really, really amazing for Yoongi because you have never witnessed him so affectionate before. Quite frankly, it drives you mad in the fluffiest of ways. 

Yoongi ends his love attack with a big smooch to your lips. 

“Mwuah”, he lets out, scrunching his nose, “that was affection too.”

“I might actually pass out. You’re so cute, oh god.”

Yoongi takes your hands and pins them above your head, holding them softly.

“You’re cuter”, he says and rests his head on your chest. You try to hug him, but his hands keep a tight grip around yours. 

So you stay pinned down and under him, while Yoongi nuzzles your chest, breathing deeply as he does.

“Your heart’s racing.”

“Because you are so affectionate. I’m not used to it.”

He lifts his head, looking at you.

“I can be affectionate.”

“Yeah, you can. Just not so cutely.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head, “it’s the best thing ever. I like it so much.”

“Mhm”, he lowers his eyes, letting them run over you mindlessly. 

Somehow in the nice silence of it all, he managed to throw one leg over yours, now resting it between your thighs. Like this, you are so close, separated by nothing but your thin sleeping clothes. 

Yoongi meets your eyes again.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too, my love.”

He cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“I like it a lot that you always ask me, you know?”

“Yeah well, it means a great deal to me to know you want it. I’m not Hades”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, not that again. Yeah, you definitely aren’t him”, you say and ruffle his hair, “come and kiss me, you softie.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, falling into the kiss with closed eyes and a happy purr. 

He wants to savour every second of the kiss, just as you want to do the same. And because you and he want to cherish the kiss with such care, it happens that it lasts oh so very long. The touches are adoring and full of love. Your limbs never truly break apart, tangling closer together as the moments become longer. 

Distance is only truly present when you have to breathe and even during those moments, you stay oh so very close. 

You spend a lot of time on your back, but Yoongi spends just as much time on his back. Truly, the bed might be small, but you roll around in it nonetheless as time passes in the sweetest way. 

The night is a lot darker when Yoongi begins breaking the kiss more and more often. You shift your legs to get more comfortable, brushing against his middle this way. The reason for his sudden need for so many breaks reveals itself to your skin hard and a little wet.

“Ah-hm”, he lets out, following it up with a huff of air and a messy kiss to your neck.

Tingles run through you. You move your leg again. 

Yoongi reaches down and stops it gently.

“Stay still, please.”

“Boongie, did you get hard?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…so nice.”

“Oh my god, Yoongi”, you gasp, embarrassing him so much that he breaks away and flops to his other side.

“I’m sorry”, he says into his hands, which he has thrown over his face.

With a fond chuckle, you spoon him, trying to drag his hands away from his face.

“Why are you apologising?” 

“I, I’m not sexualising you. I swear, I’m not.”

“Gosh, you silly boy”, you say, rolling him to his back. You straddle him, grinding down on him purposefully.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and squeezing his legs together. His hands grasp your hips, squeezing desperately.

Perfect. What a perfect little reaction.

You put your weight on his thighs, placing your hands on his chest. His heart is racing. 

“You’re worrying about the silliest things sometimes. I like when you get hard.”

“You do?”

“Mhm, I do”, you dance your fingers to his neck and close them around it. 

Yoongi parts his lips, fluttering his lashes droopily. You aren’t even applying pressure and his head already feels heavier than before. 

“It’s so hot when you get hard for me. Can I give it a feel, my love?” 

He nods his head, humming a shy yes.

You keep your dominant hand on his neck, using the other to feel him up. His sleeping shorts are very thin, giving you the most delicious sensations on your fingertips. You like how hard cock feels under clothing. How it is just so there and hard and how you can feel out the shape of it. You especially love it when Yoongi gets hard because he is a very leaky man. His once dark grey shorts become almost black at the parts where his tip naturally lies. Wet and sticky. That’s how the fabric feels as you trace him. 

“Hm”, the sound leaves him shakily.

You lift your gaze. He has his eyes closed, biting down on his lower lip and furrowing his brows. His hands lie on each side of his head, opening and closing repeatedly. Even now he is looking for someone to hold his hands. If you weren’t suddenly filled with so much gluttony for this man, you would hold his hands until forever ends. 

But instead, you abandon his neck to pull down his shorts and take out his cock. Yoongi rips his eyes open, reaching for you to stop you. He can’t get very far and then you have him gripping the sheets and rolling his eyes back as you sink his cock into your mouth. 

You lick and suckle his tip as if it was a dripping popsicle, slurping and humming the same way. 

Yoongi doesn’t know words right now. He doesn’t know speech. Nor think. All he knows is noise. Make noise. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp and sigh and gasp again. Breathe. Gasp. Whimper. Gasp again. Yoongi doesn’t know words, nor speech and all he can really do is fight for air.

His trembling gasps and little sounds only strengthen your hunger for him. You moan, wiggling your tongue around him in sloppy yet calculated swirls. He tastes different as a human. More…human. As a vampire, he tastes sweet and definitely magically addicting. His essence is meant to charm, to pull the person in and make them dependent on its taste. Right now, all his essence serves is to prove how needy you get him. He doesn’t taste sweet, but he tastes good. So good. Even as a human he tastes so good. 

“Wow Yoongi, you’re so yummy”, you lull, taking him in deeper with a delicious moan. 

Yoongi finally gains back control. He grasps your hair and tugs you away.

“Stop.”

“Don’t like it?” you make sure, fleeing his weak grasp to instead litter his inner thighs with love bites and hickeys. 

It is Not easier to handle for Yoongi. Not in the fucking slightest. He stutters his words as if he never spoke before.

“We, we aren’t at ho-home. You’re so loud, you’ll wake, wake your grandparents.”

You stifle a chuckle.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, biting his thigh on the most sensitive spot.

Yoongi gasps, arching his back and throwing his hand over his mouth.

“Quiet please”, he tries to hiss but it comes out as a needy beg.

You smile, changing position so you were hovering over him. Your crotch is pressed into his balls, his cock rubs against your stomach. Up until this point in your relationship the thought of being fucked by you had never crossed Yoongi’s mind. He didn’t fantasise about it, didn’t visualise it nor wished for it. Quite frankly, he never even considered it an option. Now all his mind produces are images of having you pump into him. He gulps repeatedly, gawking at you with hazy eyes. What is happening to him? 

You move closer to his face, grinding your crotch against him naturally. His hips chase it, his head is pounding. Holy fuck, you’re messing him up. 

“We’ll be quiet. Don’t worry”, you whisper, intertwining your hands with his’, “at least, I’ll be quiet”, you add with a teasing smirk.

“Princess”, he croaks, squeezing your hands. 

“Yeah?” you breathe, kissing his neck.

Yoongi speaks with his eyes rolled back and his body shivering with each kiss. 

“Promise me to be quiet.”

“I promise.”

“I want you.”

“I want you too”, you say and trace his ear with your tongue.

He trembles, ripping his hands from your grasp to hold your waist instead. Just once then he already changes his mind again and looks for your hands. 

“Mhm, I want you like crazy”, you purr as your tongue continues to trace his ear. He seems to be sensitive there and you like it when he shivers. 

“Princess…” he sighs, giving you all the shivers you so like to witness. 

“Yoongi…” you breathe, kissing a path down his clothed torso until you have his cock under your lips again.

You take him back inside, paying attention to his tip while your hands do the rest. It feels so good and Yoongi is feeling his control slip. Panic. He presses his legs together and reaches down, tugging you away.

“Wait, just wait”, he gasps out.

You sit back on your heels.

“Changed your mind?”

“No, I just.” He sits up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. “Sorry, it’s fast. For me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m sorry for rushing you. Do you want to stop?” you say, rubbing his back.

“No, I just need a moment. I, I get so horny so fast. And, and then I can’t control my thoughts anymore and it’s”, he huffs out air, “fucking shit, I’m talking actual ass.”

“No, you’re not. Why do you wanna control your thoughts during these moments?”

“Because…I don’t know. They’re really sexual.”

“And? I’m having sexual thoughts too.”

“You do?” 

Your eyes meet. You nod your head. 

“But they’re really sexual”, he insists.

“Samesies.”

He blinks rapidly, looking away. He rubs his own neck, doing so nervously.

“You know what I think your issue is right now?”

“Tell me.”

“Your sense of smell sucks ass.”

He scoffs, cocking his brow at you in question.

You get out of bed and put yourself in front of him. You take off your pants. Yoongi tries not to look but still ends up looking. Once bared, you step closer. Right between his legs so he has no choice but to look at you. 

“Can I have your hand?”

He offers it to you, switching between looking at your face in question and your middle in desire. 

You flip his hand so his palm is facing up, then guide it between your legs. You hold his pointer finger, moving it through your folds so he can really get a feel of how wet he makes you.

Yoongi purrs, tightening his jaw.

“Can you feel that?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“You might not be able to smell how wet I am, but I am”, you say and grind down on his finger, “you’re not the only one horny. I’m horny too, so much. I’m so wet for you”, you mewl, giving him pretty eyes.

“Holy fuck, princess”, he chokes out, pulling you into a kiss with his left hand on the nape of your neck. He shakes off your hand, taking over between your legs. His middle and ring finger sink into you, his thumb begins to massage your clit. 

Not having expected the sudden burst of pleasure, you whimper into the kiss, grasping his shoulders to stop your wobbling knees from giving up completely. 

Yoongi curls his long fingers, grazing over your spot most sensitive with such precision that you have to break the kiss just to gasp his name. 

“That’s nice, mhm?” confidence is finally in his voice. The raspy deepness of it has returned now that he is in his comfort space; making you feel good. 

“Yeah”, you gasp, following it with a wobble of your knees, “is so nice.”

“Mhm. Put your arms around me.”

You follow, burying your hands deep in his soft hair. It’s so soft and thick. He has so much of it. It’s so fucking amazing to play with it. 

“That’s it. Hold onto me, my beloved”, he whispers, falling back into the kiss with you. You use your tongues instantly, sighing and moaning quietly. All while his hand continuously drags the warmest and deepest pleasure to the surface. Every curl of his fingers, every rub of his thumb is placed with precision. As if he studied your body to the point of perfection. And in a sense he did. He might still hide his own spots from you, feeling too scared to show himself this way, but he knows the paths of your body by heart. While he hid behind always taking the lead, he learned so that he can now make you sigh so very much with just three of his fingers.

But you are stubborn. He likes this about you even if sometimes your stubbornness leads him into rather overwhelming situations. Like your right hand suddenly dropping to his cock to begin jerking him off. He breaks the kiss, moaning loudly just to follow it up with a gasp.

“Quiet”, he hisses.

“I’m not the one being loud”, you throw back sassily, twisting your hand around his heated tip. It looks so flushed between your fingers, like the prettiest shade if pink.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he presses out through gritted teeth, huffing out air in time with his fingers fucking into you. Again and again. In a fast, sloppy rhythm. 

But because you are you – the most perfect, stubborn, giving goddess – you don’t crumble under his touches. You match his rhythm, pumping his cock with such sloppy goodness that Yoongi feels dizzy. He moans into your mouth, tilting his head back. He licks your lips, wobbling so much that he accidentally licks the tip of your nose as well. It makes you giggle, which in return messes him up more. 

“I don’t think that you’re gonna ruin me” you whisper, watching the effect of your hand job wash over his face. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes rolled back and halfway open. 

“Brat”, he croaks, “ahmmmm”, he moans, squeezing his lips together just so he can’t be loud. 

“But I’m your brat.”

“Mhm, my brat. My pretty, stubborn brat”, he whispers and kisses you deeply. This is the kind of kiss which would already make you weak in normal situations but with his hand between your legs, it is quite frankly impossible to receive. 

It suddenly gets so, so hard to keep the rhythm going. Yoongi, who notices the faltering touches around his cock, smirks into the kiss, picking up skill to show you how good he can give it to you. He always gets what he wants. He is going to ruin you. Your sweet, little attempts to break him first might distract him for a while, but at the end of it, he is going to get what he wants. You’re his perfect soulmate, you are going to crumble for him even if you try so very hard it make him crumble first. 

You squeak a little, breaking the kiss. You twist his hair and tug, forcing his head to tilt back. Your eyes are half lidded and droopy as you look at him, your lips are parted. 

“You have to…do better.”

He smirks, “don’t test me.”

“Try me.”

With a soft push he puts distance between you and him. His fingers are gone for now, grabbing your wiggling hips. He slides off of bed, falling to his knees and dropping his head on the edge of the mattress. Like this, he pulls you onto his face, licking your pussy with an eager tongue the second it comes into contact with you.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, having to twist the blanket for support. 

“Lean on me, princess. I’ve got you”, he purrs between licks, caressing your shaking legs with eager hands.  

“This is unfair, oh god Yoongi”, you mewl, dropping your head. You are really trying to be quiet. Yoongi not so much now that he is pussy drunk and lost. He is so noisy in his licks and slurps, adding throaty growls and delicious purrs to it. How obviously in his element he finally is. How little he cares for his environment when his face is buried between your legs. The switch will never fail to make you shake. To have him go from shy and reserved to a complete noisy munch. Oh, you can barely handle it. 

But even Yoongi has to stop. Even Yoongi has to come to the painful realisation that humans have to breathe, that he can’t spend minutes without air. He growls as he does it, looking up at you with blown out pupils and a messy lower face. 

“You’re my fucking everything, princess”, he purrs, “fuck, why is air so sparse?” 

“Cause you’re human.”

“Mhm, if only there was a spell for unlimited air. I’d live right here”, he lulls, dragging you back onto his tongue to devour every inch of your addictive pussy. Even as a human he loves the taste. Even as a human he feels charmed by it. Even as a fucking human, he can’t get enough. He feels mad in desire. His thoughts are scrambling again, spitting the most vile things imaginable, but he feels no shame anymore. Just maddening desire to make all these thoughts a reality. He wants you shaking, trembling and whimpering his name. He wants you wetting his face and gripping his hair. This is what he is good at. Even as a human. The proof is right there. He exists to give and give and give. 

You can’t even be mad at him for putting his own needs on the backbench because he is currently making you come insanely close to an orgasm and you are panicking.

You begin fleeing, gripping his hair, stumbling while he continuously drags you back onto his tongue. 

“It’s too much, please”, you beg. 

Yoongi slows down, using the moment to catch his breath. His tender hands rub the back of your thighs, soothing the shakes in them.

“Hurts?”

“No, too close.”

“Mhhhm”, he purrs and stops caring about your little whines. He drags you back onto his tongue, sucking and licking you on the spots most sensitive. Being close isn’t a reason to stop. He won’t entertain your begs when this is the reason. You talk big about making him crumble first, but he is hellbent on proving you wrong. He sucks and slurps, moving your hips on his tongue so you can feel everything. He basks in every throb, in every pulse and new droplet of pleasure you feed him. Fuck, he loves eating your pussy. 

You twist his hair, wobbling so incredibly much, and throw your hand over your mouth, scrunching your face as he makes you feel so much pleasure that it is hard to be quiet. He is definitely not easier to handle as a human. His fangs and long tongue might be missing, but his talent remains. This is it. If you hadn’t known it yet, you definitely know now. Yoongi is actually good. He isn’t just good because of vampiric magic, he is good because he has skill and an actual, insane obsession with eating pussy. 

“Yoongi please”, you beg because begging is all you can do.

He sucks on your clit with vigour, reminding you how sensitive you are there. The wet, fast licks which follow afterwards do the rest.  

You have to climax on his face if you wanted to or not. You really want to. He feels so good. 

“Yoon- you…unfair”, you choke out and feel the knot break. Hard and very hot. And because it’s Yoongi, he presses you closer as you throb, making it fucking impossible to function. If it wasn’t for your hand, you would squeal his name as loudly as you can.

You begin fleeing. Yoongi doesn’t let you. He uses magic on you to lift you and flip you so you were kneeling by the bed with your tummy against it. He cages you in behind him, kissing your neck with wet, puffy lips. His cock is between your legs, fucking back and forth to grind against your pussy. Electric. He makes you feel electric. And so utterly his’.

“Did you just use magic to, to move me?”

“Hm, maybe”, he purrs, placing his left hand over yours while he lets his right slip between your legs again.

You writhe and squirm, pressing into him just as much as you flee him. You whimper softly, reaching behind yourself to twist his hair. He purrs, cuddling closer as his hips grind into you.

“Mhm, now you’re so wet”, he whispers, playing with your clit even if you’re still sensitive, “and so fucking puffy. Mhm princess, love when you’re like this.”

“Yoongi please”, you get out, dropping your head against him. 

“Sensitive?” 

“Yeah”, you mewl.

“You’re such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with his cock against your clit.

You gasp, trying to form words.

“What’s the matter, mhm?”

“I love you.”

He falters, stilling for just a moment before he hugs you tightly and kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, my beloved”, he says against it, following it up with a rub to your clit with his tip, “boop.”

“Huh?” you laugh instantly, craning your neck to look at him.

“Did I do it right, mhm?” he chuckles.

“I guess? Oh god, Boongie you’re so cute.” 

“Mhm, you’re cuter”, he says and slips his hand to your hips. “Stay quiet, I know you can do it”, he says and breaks away to lie down on the floor with his head between your legs. With one magical push he has you smothering him with your wet pussy. 

“Yoo-”, you silence yourself by dropping your head on the bed and biting the blanket. You huff out air repeatedly, writhing in his strong hold as he drags burning pleasure to the surface. 

You learned your lesson. Don’t challenge Yoongi about who gets the other to break first because you will lose. Even as humans you can’t win against him. His touches are too powerful, his devotion just too strong. With drool soaking the blanket and your legs shaking, you take the sloppy head he gives you against your childhood bed while the blinds are still open. 

If it wasn’t already fucking hot, the way he gives it to you does the rest. It isn’t long and he has you throbbing on his tongue a second time. The blanket works overtime to silence your squeals, his magic keeps you from completely sitting down on him. 

He also uses his magic to move you after you flee in overstimulation. He is on his feet within seconds, carrying you in his arms with ease. You know that he is using magic because it tingles a little. Or maybe you are tingling because he literally made you see stars. 

Whatever the case, you are utterly and completely his’ right now. He gazes up at you with his face wet and his lips puffy and deep pink. 

“Still wanna talk big?” he asks.

“I can’t stand you”, you choke out, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He laughs, “it’s what you get for challenging me, you little brat.” 

You tremble, exhaling shakily. 

“Aww poor baby, did I break you?” he coos as he climbs onto bed with you. You sit on his lap like this, hugging him oh so tightly.

“Shut up.”

He laughs deeply, patting your butt. He kisses your shoulder, speaking softly.

“You did really well.”

“I still can’t stand you.”

“Princess, no. Don’t talk like this”, he whines in a chuckle. 

You lift your head, meeting his smiling face. You smile at him instantly, cupping his glowing cheeks. 

“I lied. I can’t get enough of you”, you say.

“That’s so much better.”

You giggle, pushing him down to kiss him. Yoongi falls with a throaty moan, letting you straddle him gladly. This is a position he will always feel comfortable in. You and he are equal here and he loves it when you show him that you can push him around easily. 

You moan and sigh into the kiss, feasting on the taste of you as your hands are restless on his torso. His own hands are restless as well and somehow in the fumbling of it all, he manages to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor, Yoongi pulls you to his face instantly so he can kiss and suck your breasts. Like this, your pussy is grinding against his clothed stomach, messing up his shirt. 

“I want your skin, please Yoongi.”

“Rip my shirt”, he lulls, face first in your tits. 

“How??”

“Challenge the feelings and use their strength. Trust me.”

You do as you are told, ripping the shirt with ease. 

“Yoongi”, you moan, throwing the shirt to the side. It repairs itself mid air because Yoongi does it, dropping to the floor in one piece. 

“Good job, my good girl. Fuck, my good girl”, he praises, burying himself back in your tits to devote his everything to them.

You close your eyes in a roll, dropping your forehead on the edge of the backrest. You have what you craved. You are grinding against his naked stomach, feeling everything. His soft skin, his happy trail and his warmth. If he hasn’t already ruined you before, he definitely would have now. But he already made you crumble, resulting in the grinds to make you twitch each time your clit comes into contact with him.

“You feel so good…”

“Mhm, you feel so good too, princess.”

“I wanna fuck you.”

He smiles, “wanna fuck you too.”

You shimmy down until you have his cock under you. You wrap your fingers around his base, guiding it through your folds. 

Yoongi purrs, gazing at you with droopy eyes and a giddy smile. His big hands caress your thighs, his chest heaves up and down in excited breaths.

“My beautiful”, he sighs, lowering his lids just a little more, “can’t wait to be inside.”

“I’ll do it now, I can’t wait. Ready?” 

He smiles up at you, nodding his head with a hum.

“I love you.”

“I love you too”, he whispers, arching his back when you sink him into you. 

He bottoms out within seconds, filling you up so good that you have to gasp for air.

“Does it hurt?” he asks worriedly.

But you shake your head, “it feels so good. So warm and, and...” You shiver, smiling at him. “And so right.”

“It does princess, it does”, he agrees with adoration in his honey voice.

You start moving, struggling within seconds because your legs are wobbly. So to help you, Yoongi props his arms up and holds both your hands, giving you something to lean on this way. Moving becomes so much easier, the connection even deeper. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, fucking beautiful, fuck”, Yoongi gets out, gazing at you with droopy eyes. His toes are curling. The pleasure you give him is intense and he wants to close his eyes, but missing out on your beautiful face would hurt too much. So he powers through it. He gazes even if his eyes burn in exhaustion, he smiles even if his lips want to form moans instead. 

To be looked at with such love makes you feel so good. So goddamn good that you don’t have to bounce on him to feel eternal. He is glad that you aren’t because it would set him off with the first movement. He likes the slowness of it, how gentle you move and how it makes both of you float in a warm, fluffy cloud of good pleasure.

“You’re beautiful, Yoongi”, you get out, squeezing his hands.

“You are”, he sighs and closes his eyes.

To watch him let go and truly enjoy it is too much. “Oh god”, you tremble, having to gasp. You stop instantly, otherwise you would have lost yourself. 

Yoongi opens his eyes and furrows his brows when he sees the sudden panic on your features.

“What’s the matter?” 

“My control, I-” 

“You’re safe, let it happen.” 

“But what will happen to you?” 

“Let it happen”, he encourages you and then his dark brown eyes glow purple. 

Your control crumbles instantly. Your eyes match his glow.

“Yoongi, your eyes.”

“Yours are the same.”

“What?” 

Thankfully you have a mirror on the wall just high enough that you can see yourself in it, meeting your purple eyes. You exhale shakily, meeting Yoongi’s equally as purple eyes in the reflection.

He smiles, squeezes your hands when you laugh in both disbelief and the overwhelming happiness such a connection brings you.

“Yoongi, oh my god, we’re the same.”

“I know.”

You turn to him, cupping his cheeks.

“My love, oh my love.”

He leans into your touch, sitting up moments later because he wanted to be closer to you. Like this, his stomach gives such nice pressure to your clit. He lifts you for just a second with the help of his magic and crosses his legs, making it more comfortable for both of you to be so close. Like this, you sit on his lap with your own legs around his hips.

“My love”, he whispers, moving your hips slowly so the connection can deepen even more. 

The glow becomes brighter and brighter. It is just you and him. You have never been closer than right now. If there was still doubt about your connection somewhere in this universe, this right here is the final proof. You share the same breath, the same warmth and the same colour of eyes as magic courses through both your bodies. You and he are both witches whose magic is based on their emotions and in this moment, your emotions are the same, your magic is one.

“I’d wait a million lifetimes for you, ___”, he whispers, cupping your cheek.

“I’d move the fucking stars for you, Min Yoongi.”

He smiles. Perhaps your eyes deceive you, but there are markings of purple suddenly glowing under his skin. Like a tattoo invisible made visible now that you let his own control slip oh so safely. And as your hips dance with his’ and your hands stay connected with him, the air around you begins dancing in millions of small stars. 

“What’s happening?”

“We’re moving the stars, my love”, he whispers.

The stars form their own galaxies, starting from the stars on your ceiling and spreading around you in clouds. 

“Yoongi.”

“Don’t cry, my love.”

“We can do that?”

He nods his head with the love growing in his eyes.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, “I love you so much.”

“I love you just as much” he sighs, rubbing your hip in soothing as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. You haven’t noticed it yet, but the same markings glow under your skin. He loves you so very much that he paints more stars onto your shared galaxy until the very room is filled with them. 

“Keep moving like this. It feels so good”, he tells you.

“Oh god.” You shiver. “Yeah, it does. Wow, it does.”

You chase the warmth between your legs. For but a moment, you had forgotten what you and he were doing. The magical moment was just too wonderfully distracting. Now that he made you aware of it again, you can’t help but feel just a little overwhelmed from it. This is sex, but this is so much more. You are chasing pleasure, but you are also chasing so much more. This is true love and you are chasing the addictive feeling of making magic with the One.

The stars are endless in the room, purple nebulas have started to form around you and him. The glow of them paints his skin a slight purple, making you glow just as much. 

So this is what it feels like. This is what giving up control feels like to someone like you. It is warm. It is so intensely warm that you have to seek his comfort by hiding away in his neck.

“I love you so much, oh god”, you choke out.

“I love you too, my beloved witch”, he whispers. His voice is trembling, his breath is just a little uneven. 

Your hearts are racing, the parts where you touch are heated and damp. You deepen the contact by burying your hands in his hair. It feels even softer now that magic sets him aflame. He shudders and exhales shakily, meeting your movements with desperate rolls of his hips.

“Yoon- ah”, you squeak, curling your toes in electric pleasure. 

Yoongi answers you in a small whimper and his fingers dimpling your softest spots. His own face is nuzzled into your shoulder, his veins can barely handle the endless pleasure your warmth gives him. He feels home right now. Home and finally in harmony with himself. There are no dark voices in the back of his mind, no curse urging him on to rip you apart, no desires of violence getting stronger and stronger the deeper he falls into you. There is no darkness. Just galaxies of purple and melodies of endless love. He feels out of control, but it creates good in the world. 

Yoongi has never felt more in harmony with himself than he does right now. And he wants to share this harmony with you. He wants you to bask in the warmth and silence of it and give you the deep, magical pleasure he feels as it happens. 

He presses you a little closer to his stomach, basking in the moan you muffle in his neck. He rolls his hips into you, eliciting yet another moan from you. Again. He needs to make you feel as good as you make him feel.

And it all gets a little too much for you. The connection, his touch, the pressure on your clit and the warmth of having him inside. At all gets a little too much for you. 

“Yoongi, I’m cumming.”

“Let go, my love. Let go.”

Your high came sooner than he thought it would, but he doesn’t mind. He holds you through it, looking at the room with awe in his purple eyes. You make the stars dance in swirls and waves. 

“You’re beautiful, my little witch. Your magic’s so beautiful”, he sighs, squeezing you closer to him to really give you the best you ever had, “you’re so beautiful, my love. You’re…so…beautiful…”

You feel so free. This is the first thought you have. You feel so fucking free. He makes you feel so good and you don’t have to hold back on anything. The release of pressure, energy and magic brings you to fucking tears.

“I love you so much, Min Yoongi.”

“I love you…too- ah, I’m gonna cum”, he gets out, tugging at your hips, “sit up, I’m close.”

“Don’t hold back, please Yoongi let it happen”, you beg him, speeding up your hips.

“But- ah a-ha, but-”

You lift your head, spilling tears when you realise that the magic has also painted his hair purple. You know that you match his colour, that once again your connection became even more visible. And you never felt more certain about having him paint your walls than you do right now. Let him seal the connection. Let him make you his’.

“Let go, my beloved witch”, you whisper, cradling his cheeks as you dance your hips on him. It is a little difficult because he really ruined you with your high, but you want to do it for him. You want him to experience the same intense high as you did. He is your soulmate and he deserves to feel amazing. Yoongi is breathing heavier and heavier, letting out more and more little whimpers as his eyes just very slowly go out of focus.

“Let go please. I want to be yours”, you beg him, clenching around him.

“___”, Yoongi whimpers and breaks under you, rolling his eyes back and closing them because it all gets too much for him. The stars around you tremble and dance, his fingers dig deep into your softness as his seed covers your every inch, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoongi. I love you so much”, you choke out, helping him ride out his high and feeling so good that you make the stars dance just as much.

He falls down after his high, dragging you with him so he could hug you just as much as he tries to kiss you. You try to kiss him back, but both of you are so out of breath and you keep giggling and smiling that it’s difficult to find a rhythm. It makes the kiss so much more special because it is honest and it is real and in this moment, you and he carry your fucking feelings in every giggle and every shaky breath. You just did it. You sealed your connection. You let it happen and as you did, you created galaxies out of nothing. You lost control together until purple was all around you and flowing through your veins. You became one soul. 

The stars become less and less as you kiss until only the luminescent stickers on your ceiling glow in an ever fading purple. 

“Oh god Yoongi, we actually made galaxies.”

“I know. Holy fuck, I lost control and it didn’t make me violent.”

“I’m so happy for you, oh Yoongi”, you choke out, lifting your head so you could meet his eyes. His hair is black again, the glow under his skin stopped but his eyes were still a slight purple. Darker than before, but the remnants of strong magic still flicker in them. 

You touch his cheek, his neck, his hair.

“Your skin was glowing and, and your hair. Your hair was purple.”

“I know. You were the same.”

“We were the same. Yoongi, you and I are so right.”

“We are. Ah! Mhhhm”, he suddenly tenses up, scrunching his nose, “okay, don’t do that. My cock’s gonna fall off.”

“Huh? I just moved a little. You normally like that.”

“Yeah, not here. Uff, I’m so sensitive please get off.”

He makes you laugh, which makes slipping off a very whiny procedure for him.

“So I take it that your human cock can only go once?”

“Definitely yep, wow that hurt”, he says and rubs his cock soothingly, “my poor little wiener.”

“Yoongi”, you snort, “why would you call it like that, you silly bean?”

He laughs with boyish eyes, kicking his feet as he does it. He really makes you so happy that you have to throw yourself on your back and laugh just as much. 

You each drink some water after your laugh. You also each go to the toilet and clean up as best possible. You don’t bother to put on clothes, waiting for Yoongi to come back. He does so quickly, locking the door behind him and running to the bed.

“Kook and Tae are downstairs. I ran so fast. I was scared they’ll see my naked ass.”

“But you did it?”

“I hope”, he says and slips under the blanket. He wiggles around a bit, making cute sounds.

“Comfy?” you snicker fondly.

“Yeah, so warm”, he purrs and nuzzles into the pillow with a scrunch of his nose. 

You and he gaze at each other like this. He cups your cheek, tracing your skin slowly.

“My little witch”, he whispers.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes halfway.

“I can’t believe you let me cum inside. What if something happens?”

“If it’s anyone, it’s you Min Yoongi.”

Seriousness washes over his features as the meaning of your words sink into him. He tries to speak calmly but his voice trembles.

“I don’t know what you see in me, but whatever it is, I’m so fucking glad that you do.”

“I see everything in you. My past, my present and my future.”

Yoongi pulls you close, hugging you against him.

“My beloved. Holy fuck, I love you”, he presses out, cradling you with such desperate love it feels as if he wanted to melt with you.

“I love you too, my beloved.”

[eclipseiz]

Twin Thrones

pairing- caracalla x fem! oc x geta

(♡ synopsis)- calista amulis was determined to get her brother back, no matter the cost. even if that means she had to cozy up with the emperor's to do it.

part 1 of ?

please note...

✧ this is set PRE gladiator 2 as the story progresses it might dabble in the beginning but that's about it.

✧caracalla will not have syphilis in this story, he'll just be a crazy freak.

✧this story is gonna be dirty and raw (lol) so 18+

_✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩_

Calista Amulis was set on saving her brother, Caius from Rome the moment she had heard he’d been sold to them.

The sun beat down relentlessly as she leapt from the boat, the heat biting into her skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire that fueled her every movement. She darted away, her heart pounding with urgency, desperate to stay ahead of the soldier she had seduced only hours before for the free ride to Rome. She had played her part well, weaving the web of deception so carefully. She stumbled upon a young woman walking with a basket filled with what looked like bread, “Pardon me!” she called out making the woman turn around

“Yes?” the woman raised an eyebrow

Calista looked around and leaned in closer, “Do you know who I can talk to in regards to the Gladiators?”

She seemed to think for a moment before answering, “Macrinus would be your gentleman. He buys them up the moment they touch Roman soil. If I were to guess I'd say he's in his office near the Gladiators cells just down there.” she pointed down a dusty stairway to the right of the Colosseum.

With a quick ‘thank you’ Calista began down the path coming across a bustling corridor with training men she assumed to be the gladiators and guards. “What's your business here girl?” a bald man walked over to her.

“I'm looking for a man named Macrinus, is he here?” she asked folding her hands together

He grunted and began walking, commanding her to follow him with a wave of his hand. She moved with him until they stood in front of an archway, “Sire this girl here has a few words for you.”

Calista stepped into the room and watched as Macrinus gave her a once over, “Thank you Viggo you may return to the floor.” After the guard had retreated, Macrinus leaned back and clasped his hands together, “Well why have you come to see me…?” he requested her name.

She moved to sit at a chair in front of the desk, “Calista. My brother was sold to you after our city was attacked and I would like for you to release him. I'll give you anything you require.” 

Macrinus tilted his head before letting out a laugh, “Silly girl, who knows if your brother is still alive.”

“Caius. His name is Caius.” she urged

The man thought for a moment, “Ah yes ‘Cyclops’. Quite the fighter…managed to lose his eye during his first fight here.”

Her face flashed with worry, “He’s still standing then?”

“For now.” Macrinus answered with a shrug. He got up from his seat over to where he had a glass of wine, “I know what you can do for me.”

Calista straightened her posture and put her confident mask in place, “Anything.”

The older man hummed, “I'm sure you’ve heard of the emperors Geta and Caracalla from wherever you have come from?” 

“The twin tyrants?” 

His lips twitched, “Correct. I want to take them down and I had no way of doing so until now. You are a pretty girl, Calista, just their type…”

She furrowed her brows, “I am not following.”

“The emperors are young fragile men. Just the kind who can be turned agaisnt each other when it comes to a young beautiful woman.” he handed her a cup half full of the alcohol.

She swirled the liquid in the cup, “You want me to seduce them? Both of them? How do you suppose I got close enough to do that?” 

“I can handle that without fretting. Though you will need to wear something of more taste.” he gestured to her raggedy dress which she had been wearing for days.

Calista stood, setting the cup back down, “And after I somehow manage to pin them against one another, what after?”

Marcinus took the girl's face in his hands, “I'll take over from there. You'll find I can be very persuasive.”

She scoffed, “And you'll let my brother go?”

He gives her a pat on the cheeks before backing away, “If all goes to plan then yes. Caius will be freed.”

“And if it doesn't?” she anxiously questioned

“Then you'll most likely die at the hands of the emperors.” he shrugged like it was nothing.

Calista let out a breath of air before slowly nodding, “Fine I'll do it.”

“Wonderful!” Macrinus beamed, his smile wide and full of triumph, as though he'd just secured a victory in a game of great importance. “I can arrange for you to meet them as soon as tomorrow. But first, let me tell you a little about them.” He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the edge of his desk as he considered the task at hand. “Geta is the older twin,” he began, his tone steady and assured. “He’s the one I consider the true leader. Handles most of the imperial duties, keeps things running smoothly. He's a sharp, methodical person who expects loyalty, and demands it. He’s the one you’ll have to watch closely.” Macrinus paused, rocking back slightly, as though trying to find the right words for the next part. "Caracalla, on the other hand..." He shook his head, a flicker of something between amusement and disbelief crossing his face. "Crazy, to put it lightly. He's unpredictable, impulsive and makes decisions on a whim, often with disastrous results. He'll be the easy one to handle, no doubt. But it’s Geta you need to worry about." He sat forward, his gaze sharpening. "Geta is the real challenge. If you can get to him, take him down, the rest will fall into place.”

She regarded Macrinus for a moment, her expression calm but calculating. "I see," she said slowly, her voice smooth and confident.

Macrinus tipped his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'll have my servant prepare your bath, clothes, everything. If all goes well with the twins tomorrow, they'll likely request a room for you at their palace."

She blinked, a furrow of confusion crossing her brow. "Wait, hold on," she said, her voice calm but edged with uncertainty. "Just like that? They’ll let me in? You make it sound almost too easy."

“It’s not as difficult as you’re making it sound,” he said, his tone calm and reassuring. “The twins are accustomed to intrigue and manipulation, but they both believe in appearances. A beautiful, well-dressed woman appearing as if by chance? They’ll think nothing of it. The way you present yourself will make all the difference.” He paused, watching her carefully. “Don’t overthink it. If you act confident, poised, and play to their egos, they’ll let you in without a second thought.

She chuckled sarcastically, the tension in her expression easing for a moment. "Let's hope I'm as good of an actor as I've been told then." Her voice was dry, but there was a flicker of determination beneath it.

“Cordelia!” Macrinus called for his servant. “I'll have her get you cleaned up. Get a good night's rest and get ready for tomorrow.”

“If sleep can even call upon me.” With that, she exited, the weight of what was to come settling on her shoulders. Tomorrow would tell whether the pieces would fall into place or whether she'd be walking into a trap.

_✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩_

check out my masterlist pinned on my profile

[nanamiluvs]

meanie !

pairing : husband!nanami x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 700

tags : reader is afab but no pronouns used, use of “good girl”, mean dom nanami, orgasm denial, overstimulation, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, slight begging, praising, not proofread

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

husband!nanami who is just sooo mean when his fingers are buried inside you :(

husband!nanami who sits you on his lap when he comes home from work, the day a little too stressful than usual. his hands grope at your flesh and shed your clothes one by one, until you're bare naked, his chest pressing against your back. he's only loosened his tie yet.

husband!nanami who takes his stress out on your poor cunt, thick fingers bullying their way in as you whine and mewl. he mumbles something about how you're so wet for him between the soft kisses he presses along your neck. it's frustrating – he's pumping his digits in and out so fast yet he's caressing your skin with his lips as if you were made out of glass.

husband!nanami who doesn't kiss you as much as be normally does because he wants to hear you sing for him, whine and moan and cry in pleasure as your body archs back into his. your voice, your body, just you being what he needs to unwind.

husband!nanami who toys with your clit until you're begging him to stop, that it's too much – so he chuckles when you clench around his fingers, hitting your climax once again. “can you give me one more?” he purrs, and you can't help but nod. “such a good girl for me.”

husband!nanami who is a dirty liar when he asks for just one more time. you know he's lying and so does he, you both know he will force your pretty pussy wide open and dripping for his fingers to explore and your clit puffy for his thumb to rub for as long as he wants to. you're panting, yet you can't even turn around to cling onto his shoulders – his hold on you secure and firm, positioning you just the way he wants you to stay. and he wants you still and pretty on his lap, body engulfed in his larger frame. “shh,” he kisses your neck when you try to turn around to face him, the touch almost featherlight, “sit still, will you? or do you want me to stop?” you lean against his chest, head thrown back, too drunk and dazed to talk. no, you mumble, please don't. “ah, how can i defy my darling if they ask so nicely?”

husband!nanami whose kind words make a strong contrast with the pace of his fingers and the rock-hard bulge you feel pressing against your ass from below. you hear his breath hitch when you grind your hips, shifting slightly – you know he wants to just pull it out and empty his balls inside your cunt. but he doesn't, and you're almost begging him to fill you up before realizing something else.

husband!nanami who wants you to beg.

and husband!nanami who finally starts fucking you for real when you plead him to do so, hips slamming into yours so roughly you think the bed's going to break for a moment. his dick is so big and it's always a tight fit no matter how much you're used to taking his length. his low grunts can be heard as he bends over you, arms caging your head inbetween. one hand creeps downwards to find your clit and the other holds your jaw as he kisses you deeply.

husband!nanami who makes sure to clean you up when he’s done with you before he clings onto your body. he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, asking if it hurt, if it was too much, telling you how much he loves you and how well your pussy welcomes him. his eyes are closed as he nuzzles his face into your neck to pepper you with even more kisses, spooning you and so content with your warmth against his.

husband!nanami whose problems with work are long forgotten when you're snoring and trapped safe and sound in his embrace.

[irisintheafterglow]

the first time you tell opla!zoro that you love him, you're not sober either. (part one here!)

"i just-i just don't know what to do," you sniffle, another wave of emotions leaking through your tired eyes and onto your tear-stained shirt. "i'm so in love with him it makes me physically ill, nami."

"mhmm, i can tell," she replies absentmindedly, taking another sip from her drink in the musty light of the bar.

"nami," you plead, wasted out of your mind with your cheek pressed against the dirty table.

"sweetheart," she replies with the same melodrama, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"i'm so sad." your voice breaks on the last word and you make a loud hiccup-like noise that has the other guests of the bar eyeing you warily. you couldn't guess how long it'd been since you dragged nami from her hammock to go drink your sorrows away. to her credit, she stayed with you until her patience was thinner than a paper cut.

"i know you are," she says slowly after you'd gone over the same topic about four times in the last five minutes. "look, i feel like you should just tell him. he already told you his feelings."

"see, but that's the thing." she shoots you a skeptical look and you sigh back at her. "what if he's lying? or if he didn't actually mean it?"

"why would he lie about something so significant as that?"

"i don't know, maybe he thought i was someone else-"

"from what you've very thoroughly informed me, he expressed his feelings for you, and only you," she reminds you, tilting her glass toward you for emphasis. her gaze flicks up behind you and she raises her eyebrows briefly, like whoever was approaching was another tool for her entertainment. "tell him. it's now or never."

"what the hell do you-"

"you're out of your mind if you think it's okay to get them drunk before a mission." his voice immediately sobers you, white-hot shame coursing through your veins as you sit up and try to make yourself look presentable. thankfully, he's glaring daggers into nami, who merely shrugs and offers something about being here for a good time, not a long time. "c'mon, i'm taking you back to the ship," he mutters, lifting you from your seat and letting you grab his unfairly strong bicep for stability.

"why'd you come get me?" your steps wobble slightly on the cobblestone, but zoro's determination to keep you upright is unwavering. "i could have gone home with nami."

"i got worried about where you were. thought something happened."

"nothing happened except alcohol and feelings," you drawl absentmindedly, the airy feeling in your mind becoming fuzzier the longer you're with him.

"ah, two of my favorite things."

"liar, you only talk about your feelings when you're drunk." blinking slowly to recenter yourself, you cut him off before he can counter your accusation. "like, the other night. when you told me you loved me." the words slip out unplanned and his body becomes deathly still next to you, his arm so tense you could mine it with a pickaxe.

"i said...what?"

"that you loved me and that it was a secret," you say plainly, glancing at him to find his face a nearly imperceptible shade of pink. "what's with the blush?"

"it's nothing," he says quietly. sober you would have left the conversation at that, respecting his need for privacy and security about his private feelings.

drunk you, however, has no such manners.

"look at you, all red and shit." his ears become an even deeper shade of pink and you can't help laughing at his poor attempt to hide his embarrassment. "you wouldn't be so flushed if it was actually nothing, so what is it?"

"it's nothing," he restates. "it doesn't matter."

"it matters to me. you matter to me." his face feels like it's been set on fire and every place your body is making contact with his feels like an electric current. did you have any idea what your words were doing to him, he wondered. sure, what you said made his brain go foggy like the island coastline in the morning, but what you made him feel was so much worse. you made him feel so lovesick, it pained him.

"the sentiment is reciprocated," he murmurs low enough that you can barely hear him. even while you're dancing around in the streetlights, you've never looked so beautiful to him.

"can i tell you a secret?" he swallows thickly, unsure of how to continue navigating this situation. he settles for nodding, every movement restrained to keep from kissing you until the only oxygen in his lungs has gone through yours first. "you can't tell anyone, though."

"i'm a great secret keeper."

"no, you're not," you reply instantly and his mouth gapes indignantly. "you told me your biggest secret and you don't even remember it."

"fine. i won't tell anyone what you tell me, then. i don't know about anyone else," he promises. after what seemed like an eternity, he finally helps you into your hammock, taking great care to make sure you don't fall out. "if i do tell someone, you can kick me in the balls."

"enticing offer," you laugh and his mouth quirks in a half-smile that you only saw once in a blue moon.

"so, the secret?"

"oh, right," you whisper sleepily. "the secret is that i love you too. i love you so much that i want to throw up."

"i think that might be the alcohol, doll," he murmurs, his fingers gently brushing your cheek. "sober you and sober me need to have a long talk in the morning."

"we said that last time but didn't do shit about it."

"well, i think it's time i did something about it." your eyebrows furrow, completely forgetting anything you'd just talked about. it's okay, he figures. he'll show you how much you mean to him when you're both ready.

"did something about what?"

"how much i love you, too."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[temporaryrose200]

✩Just A Little Accident✩

✟pairing: Yan Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, reader being drugged.

✟one-short

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: After your maid spilled tea all over your lap, Claude knew she had gone…

✟a/n: This I meant to be a side story. Check out my other Yan Claude for this story to make sense if you haven’t. Also sorry I haven't been updated much but a lot has been going on. Going to try and update now.

Hissing in pain as the boiling liquid spilt all over your lap and in the process staining your dress. In the pain, you drop your cup and it landed on the soft glass, breaking its fall “I am so sorry my lady!” Annie your maid exclaimed, snatching up a nearby napkin and tried to remove the stain. Keyword, tried. All the maid was doing was making it worse.

Claude who was sat beside you, watching intensely, glaring dagger at the poor worker. The murderous glint in his diamond eyes sent chills down everyone including yours if you had noticed. You were much more occupied with Annie and the burning pain to even notice the emperor. Oh how Claude wanted to strangle that maid for putting her dirty hands on you, even worse hurt your fragile skin. The woman was a nuisance in the eyes of the emperor, a clumsy and idiotic person to be assigned to serve someone as graceful and perfect as you. The maid needed to go…

Placing a gloved hand over Annie’s hand, you gave the woman a reassuring smile. “If you keep rubbing it in like that, it’s just going to make it worse” you spoke softly. Eyes focusing on the large stain, you noticed how the woman began tearing up. Before you could get a single word out to calm her, apology after apology began spilling from her lips. She bowed her head in shame and her voice trembled. With a sigh, you stood up from your seat, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gently patted it. “I’m fine, calm yourself Annie,” You said, trying to soothe her, but she remained in her apologetic bow, her hands balled into fists and still trembling like leaf. “I’m going to just go change” you explained to the teary-eyed maid. Turning towards Claude you saw the murderous glare focused towards the maid and you felt something deep within you, telling, no yelling at you to stay. But of course, you didn’t listen. “I’ll only be 10 minutes” you timidly told the emperor. Eyes landed on you, the deathly glare that the emperor held had now vanished and had been replaced with a soft loving gaze. It made you sick.

Picking up your cream-coloured dress, you began walking towards the palace leaving poor Annie all alone with Claude. Diamond blue eyes watched you, his gaze not leaving your figure until you were out of sight. Now that his lover had gone, there’s no one to stop him for what he’s about to do next. Placing the half-empty tea cup on the garden table, Claude stood up with a dead expression. He towered over the quivering woman, who knew her life was soon about to end. The only witness to horrid scenes was a young guard, who just stood there watching.

Coming back with a freshly clean dress, you were about to open your mouth to tell Annie a funny story to cheer her up, but when you saw no sign of the maid, you were left confused. E/C eyes darted around the garden, searching for the missing maid. ‘Where is she?’ You question to yourself. “My dear, what seems to be the matter?” a familiar voice asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. Claude sat there, sipping away at his chamomile tea, he held this sickening smirk which was hidden under his cup. Stepping towards the garden table, you griped the top of your seat, feeling uneasy at the missing maid. You had an extremely bad feeling. You questioned to your fiancé to where your maid had gone off to, but there was silence after that. No excuse came from his lips.

It wasn't until you looked over at the other side of the table, a guard. He’s been here all along, maybe he might know! Opening your mouth, you stopped yourself as you finally noticed the frightened expression painted on the young guard’s face. The colour had drained from his face, his eyes widened with fear, his hand gripping tightly at the hilt of his sword, and his breathing unsteady. And that was all you needed to know and the whereabouts of Annie.

Your blood ran cold, you felt yourself shaking like a leaf. A million scenarios ran through your mind at what kind of horrible things Claude had done to her. Falling to the fall, hands covering your face, you sob. Not caring that you were ruining your makeup. The sound of the chair hitting the grass, signalled to you that Claude had gotten up from his seat. Feeling him wrap his strong arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You screamed, kicked and struggled for the blonde to let go of you, yelling insults left and right. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU BASTARD!? TELL ME!”

Out of nowhere, you felt a piece of cloth be placed over your mouth and noises quickly shutting you up. You breathed in the fumes, feeling your eyelids began closing on their own. To struggled to gain consciousness, but it was futile. The drug was too strong. Before slipping into unconscious you heard Claude’s voice echo in your mind. “You are mine understand. I will not let anyone hurt what is mine, only I can.”

Oh [Name], what did you do wrong to this story…

[maxislvt]

Sink Your Teeth In

pairing(s): vampire!natasha romanoff x werewolf!reader

summary: Vampires and werewolves were known enemies, but Natasha is more than willing to change that. Even if it's just for one night.

warning: amab!reader, blowjobs, sub!reader, slight dubcon

a/n: ummm nat gives the best head case closed

Event Masterlist

Werewolves and vampires were always at odds with each other. Not a thousand years could go by without vampires attacking werewolves or werewolves attacking vampires. It was all the same bloodline ending bullshit. 'Your father killed mine and now I must kill you!' over and over again. Some of those fathers weren't even worth killing anyone over. It was truly a shame that no one could see how compatible the two factions were. Vampires were strict, organized people that valued loyalty above all else. Werewolves were nothing short of loyal and obedient, you just had to train them. Natasha was so close to finding the perfect werewolf for her to prove that. 

Natasha had tried many times to tame a werewolf, but she'd run into a number of problems. They could be taught, but not many of them were willing to learn— especially not from a vampire. As disappointing as it was, it wasn't exactly a shock. A millennium long feuds were rarely ever one sided. Her previous attempts were also foiled by pride, shame, and simply being too boring to have any real fun.

So, Natasha spent another Friday night on the prowl.

Club Sonar was a rather interesting place. A tall building in the middle of nowhere buzzing with all forms of life. Monsters from all over the globe came together under the moon just to party. It was a messy place. The music was loud, bodies grinded against each other without a care, and secrets of all kinds were shared over the strongest alcohol. Though cultures mixed, money did not. 

Each floor of the bar was more expensive than the last. The alcohol got smoother, the music got slower, and the floors actually got cleaned. Upper floors were for people who supported the cause but had no interest in getting dirty. Natasha had more than enough money to sit at the top floor, but that wasn't any fun. She'd never find what she was looking for if she stayed up there. 

Werewolves were just as wealthy as vampires, but they were rowdy. They liked to play rough and get dirty. Big fancy houses just didn't appeal to them as much. Fancy clubs appealed to them even less. Natasha wasn't looking to tame someone — not to say her hand couldn't be forced — she was looking for someone soft and easy to mold. 

You weren't the easiest to find. Despite your size, the people on the dancefloor had no trouble pushing you around. You kept your head down no matter where you went. Natasha could tell you weren't there on your own, which made it harder to take you home. Not too hard though.

"This really isn't your scene," she said when she took the bar stool next to you. It was hard to keep her eyes in the right place. Your shyness was adorable, but there was no denying what she was really feeling. 

You looked around to make sure she was actually talking to you.  Though you weren't opposed to the conversation, it was hard to believe such a pretty woman had approached you. "Um, no. My friends wanted to come here. I mean it's cool just…couldn't we have a library or something? There's no point in intermingling if you're too drunk to remember what you're kissing."

Natasha laughed and scooted closer to you. "I guess you're right, but there's no shame in being curious. Right?" She looked at the glass in front of you. "Oh, that just won't do." Before you could interject, she tapped the countertop twice and brought over the bartender. It was a quick exchange, you didn't even see Natasha pull out any cash. Despite your confusion, you didn't put up a fight. You were exactly what Natasha was looking for. 

Guilt filled your eyes when you looked down at the fresh cocktail in front of you. Was it more rude to let it go to waste or ask the bartender for a refund? "Oh, you really didn't have to do that." Your hands hesitantly wrapped around the glass before taking a sip of the alcohol. The burn hit you immediately, but you tried to play it off. You tensed up to hold in the coughing fit building up in your chest. "It's…great, thanks," you forced out through a tight chest. 

Natasha gave you a firm pat on the back to force you to cough. She took away the glass and slid this towards you. "I would expect a werewolf to have a stronger alcohol tolerance," she said teasingly. Her hand stayed on your back even after your coughing had subsided. 

You shook your head. "A lot of us have sensitive pallets. I can taste whatever crappy oak barrel they made this in." There was an unexpected comfort in the way she touched you. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" You sat up straight as her hand moved down your back. You never really paid attention to your posture, but you had the strange urge to be better around her. 

"My name's Natasha, but you can call me Nat if you want. What's yours?"

"My name is Y/N. I don't really have a nickname, but whatever you come up with is fine." 

The conversation continued without trouble. Natasha seemed so enamored with how strong your pallet was. At the expense of Natasha's wallet and your sobriety, you had tasted just about every drink the bar had to offer. Eventually, you settled on just drinking strawberry daiquiris while you two talked. 

Natasha pulled your seat closer to her and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So how many more of those little smoothies do I have to buy to take you home with me?" Her hand slid up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel your dick twitching already. "I promise I'll only bite where it feels good."

You practically jumped out of your skin when Natasha kissed your neck. It was quick, but you could feel the pointed tips of her fangs brush against your skin. "Um..Can I finish this one first?" Before Natasha could say anything else you pulled out your phone and texted your friends. 'Leaving with a hot lady, ttyl!' was all you sent before cutting off your phone and downing the last of your drink. 

Natasha adored your enthusiasm. "I promise I'll get you home safe in the morning." She kissed your neck one last time before dragging you outside to her car. It was a good thing she brought her chauffeur along because there was no way she'd be able to keep her hands off you the entire ride home. 

You stumbled behind Natasha as best you could. Vampires were usually weaker than werewolves, but you were a little too tipsy to show your strength. You let Wanda push you into the backseat of her car. One sniff of the air and you could tell someone else was in the car. "You have a chauffeur?" Natasha covered your mouth and pushed you further into the backseat. 

"Home," was all she told the driver before closing the partition and focusing her attention on you. "Yes, but I promise the back of the car is soundproof." It certainly wasn't, but she needed to hear how whiny you could get. Natasha practically pounced on you after she closed the door. The kiss was hot and passionate. Your fangs bumped against hers every time your lips collided. "Can you taste what I drank earlier?" She asked with a giggle. 

A whine escaped your lips when Natasha pulled away. "Um…a lot of vodka and cooper..?" Your answer earned you another kiss. Natasha's lips felt like heaven against yours. She overwhelmed all your senses in the most delicious way possible. You didn't even notice how hard you'd gotten. "You smell…really good." You mumbled in the handful of seconds between kisses. 

She chuckled but didn't respond. You were too cute. "I'm going to make you feel so good tonight." Natasha's kisses moved down the side of your jaw until she reached the base of your neck. Her hands wasted no time undoing your belt and tossing it on the car's floor. One of her fingers circled around the tip of the tent in your pants while she watched you squirm. "You're so sensitive."

You opened your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a string of cursing and desperate whimpering. "Sorry, I'm just new to all of this," you confessed. It was a little hard to imagine your first time going to a bar would take such a turn. 

"Don't tell me someone as cute as you is still a virgin." Your silence was enough. It was as arousing as it was disappointing. Natasha didn't want to go slow by any means, but the thought of getting to corrupt that innocent little mind of yours was exhilarating. "I promise I'll be extra gentle with your little friend." 

The car parked before Natasha could pull down your boxers. Natasha's lust-driven craze left you in quite an awkward position while waiting for her to unlock the door. Holding your pants up only made your bulge stand out more and there was an obscene amount of lipstick covering your neck. You hoped Natasha wasn't secretly vampire famous or else you'd be in real trouble. 

Natasha pulled you into her home and wasted no time undressing you. Your shoes, shorts, sweater, and T-shirt littered the soft carpet. Natasha had you completely naked by the time she pushed you onto the bed. "You're making a mess already," she whispered seductively as she crawled onto the bed. Her eyes focused on the way your member throbbed and leaked precum. 

Your eyes followed Natasha's as she began stroking your member. It was tortuously slow, but it felt good. A near-pornographic moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back. "Your hands are so soft," you whimpered pathetically. All your willpower went into staying still. You didn't know what to do with yourself. "C-can I touch you too?" You blindly reached out and grabbed the first thing you could feel. Mindlessly, you groped the soft flesh in hopes that it would make Natasha feel good too. Your face burned bright red as she moved your hand to where her breast actually was. “Sorry…I wasn’t looking,” you mumbled. 

Natasha kissed up the underside of your cock before licking all the way down to the base. “A good pup would pay attention to someone making them feel this good.” She waited until you looked down at her. Once she was sure you wouldn’t look away, she swallowed you down to the base. Her cheeks hallowed out as she began sucking you off.

Your hips twitched and your eyelids fluttered, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. As your orgasm got closer, you found it harder to control yourself. An animalistic growl ripped through your throat as you tried to control yourself. Your fangs forced themselves out of your mouth and your claws had nearly ripped Natasha’s sheets. “W-wait, slow down,” were the only words you could get out before it happened. 

Hot white cum painted the inside of Natasha’s throat as she swallowed down everything you gave her. Natasha didn’t give you a break and continued until you pushed her away. “Is that all you have left?” She blew on your bulbous tip before giving it a kiss.

“N-no, I just…I need a second. That’s all.”

[liveontelevision]

If I don't get more to that babysitter story soon I might just go into full withdrawals.

Well shit here you go bbg

Exams are mostly over which means I can suffer more! :)

This is definitely gonna be a multi-part series at this point, and I am working on part 3 already so - ya

Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.

Enjoy this very angsty mildly smutty

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Suffer Pt. 2 | Lucifer x Reader

Things didn't exactly get easier for you after your stupid dalliance with Lucifer. Obviously, you lost your job. But you were a nanny, you lived in the manor. And now you have to find new housing somewhere else in Hell. You haven't been out on the streets in years, and protection was essentially guaranteed as a royal staff member, so it was definitely.. a change of pace. Getting some tips from your previous coworkers who lived outside the manor, you did your best to weave through the murderous streets to find some sort of safety.

“Hello? Anyone home?” The apartment you entered was located in a ratty-looking motel that sat in the middle of a more secluded area in Pentagram City. No matter how dirty, it did seem a little safer considering the distance between other sinners. Scanning the apartment, considering no one answered to your previous call, you hesitantly stepped through the door. An imp you used to work with at the hotel advised you to take some sort of protection out there. He handed you an incredibly sleek pistol. It was tiny, even compared to the size of your smaller hands. It was easy to slip in and out of the little holster on your outer thigh. Scoffing at the idea of needing to shoot anyone, you accepted it humbly. Just to be safe.

Looking out a busted window, surrounded by broken glass, you saw the demon who must've lived here. A twisted corpse, covered in splatters of blood and dirt. A long angelic spear, still standing, sits firmly in the center of their chest, a collection of other stab wounds littered across the rest of the body. Fuck. You knew about exterminations, everyone did. It was always a solemn day back at the manor, but you’ve never witnessed its actual afflictions. You stumbled backward, tripping over some random debris and falling to the floor, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The fear you felt, the sharp pain in your palms where the glass shards had pierced you, it was all too much. Struggling to your knees, you crawl to the wall, leaning back against it with a thud. A sudden paranoia that someone may hear any noise you made, kept your breathing shallow. You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting in the dark room entirely alone. You wished you weren't alone. You wished he was here.

The last extermination day was about three months ago, so you knew the place hadn't been touched in at least that long. And as gruesome as it may sound, you now had a place to stay in the meantime. But, what are you supposed to do now? You were sure there weren't any families in Hell looking for a babysitter.. You could do little things, like mending clothes, cooking, and cleaning, but.. None of those skills were strong enough to get you into anything remotely as comfortable as being a royal nanny. Cell Phones were a thing at this time, but you never had a reason to have one before, so that’d be something you have to work for. You were essentially starting from scratch, as if you had just arrived in Hell.

You had to take to the streets. Walking nervously, with one hand on your little emergency weapon, you peeked into stores to see who might be hiring. Surprisingly, a quaint little bakery was just around the corner. Stepping inside, the little bell notifies the black-eyed woman standing at the counter. After a quick conversation, and browsing some of the baked goods, it finally clicked that you had walked straight into cannibal town without realizing. But.. It was surprisingly nice. The woman said she did need help in the kitchen, and while the image of cleaning blood and bones off baking pans made you shiver, it could've been worse.

With some hard work and absolute dumb luck, you managed to become a customer favorite. There were some close calls, gentlemen would always get a whiff of your scent before kissing your hand as a greeting, and sometimes you would even feel their teeth graze across your knuckles. The owner was such a lovely woman, despite also being a cannibal, she would swat at any unwanted advances and scold anyone who dared to taste her “best worker”. After a couple months, you were able to pretty up your inherited apartment, and it finally felt like somewhere you could call home.

And a few months after that, you would actually consider yourself in a good place. Bringing some homey decor into your new place, you had the urge to bring a few friends by. The only issue was, you didn't have friends. You were close to the owner, but she was.. Old fashioned. And customers were just that; customers. You were getting antsy though. You rummaged through the small duffle you took with you from the Morningstar residence and found a mildly appealing outfit. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a dissatisfied hum. With one fell swoop, you took the bottom of your skirt and tore it fully around your legs. The dress that normally flowed sweetly to your calves, now flounced to your thighs. With one more spin, where you saw a little too much under your skirt, you decided that this would definitely get you some friends.

Oh, and how right you were. You made many “friends”. You played every card in the book, using dozens of excuses to bring home any demon who showed interest. You were careful about it, you could handle yourself, after all. You were finally getting the attention you deserved. But.. it wasn't from him. Each time you’d walk to work you’d see a flier or a billboard with the king of Hell’s grinning face on it. It churned your stomach each time. 

At this point, after some soul-searching, you decided on one thing. This was all Lucifer’s fault. How dare he smile at you the way he did. How could he constantly keep you company, making you wonder why you were even hired as a nanny? How could he so easily touch you without getting as nervous as you did? How could he kiss you the way he did, then call it a mistake? He did nothing to defend you. But these demons in your bed each night? They would do anything for just a taste of you and had no problem admitting that.

After finally appeasing your physical needs, you stopped pursuing demons. It’s been a few years since you've settled in, and now you look back at some of your hookups with a cringe. That was progress, right? Admitting it was just a phase? 

Your traveling hands told you otherwise. At night, especially after a long shift where your mind was too tired to think straight, your hands would trail down the center of your stomach. You could never explain what got you in this state, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you had to know. Taking no time, with your exhaustion quick to take over, you rubbed small circles across your still-clothed cunt. You held your blanket to your mouth to muffle any noises. You picked up the speed.

“Nng.. L-Lucifer..”  You moaned out softly, your blanket slipping out of your clenched fist. A swell of pleasure caused you to arch your back into your hand, still playing with your overstimulated cunt. After letting yourself calm down, you simply sit with tired eyes, looking at the ceiling with a visible glare. Well, shit.

—

“U-Uh.. Lillith, my love, don’t you think we should -” A quick glare back at the nervous king caused him to shut his mouth.

“Get yourself cleaned up, darling. Then, we’ll figure everything out.” She sounded far too calm for his liking, but once he turned to a mirror in a nearby vanity, he choked on any response he might have. He was covered in your lipstick. Fuck, he loved being covered in your lipstick. Quickly shaking the thought out of his head, he went off to clean up his face. Splashing water onto his face and neck, he let out a heavy sigh, refusing to look into his reflection. Even he’s ashamed to look into his eyes after what he’s done.

After folding his coat and draping it over a nearby chair, he carefully approached Lillith, who had sat down gracefully at the edge of their shared bed. She was holding up some papers with a purple haze, and with a flick of her wrist, she dropped certain ones into a nearby portal. Lucifer gathered the courage to sit next to his wife. He still kept a good distance, twisting his ring around his finger as a nervous fidget.

“What do you think of this one, dear?” Leaning in close to him, Lillith presents a piece of paper that she had just been looking at. A sudden chill ran down his spine, scanning the sheet. A picture of a homely demon, looking absolutely ancient, was clipped to piles of papers with references, experiences, and skills. Overall, if this were a normal situation, she would be a perfect fit to take care of Charlie. But so soon? He didn't want to bring that up. Hey! Can’t you keep the demon, who you just caught me sucking on, for a little while longer? That’s ridiculous.

“W-Well, sure, I’m sure Charlie would love her.. Great choice.. Love.” He was always quick to tell her or give her whatever would make her happy. He owed her that after all. After dragging her to the pits of Hell that he created.

“Hm! Well, that’s settled. I suggest you head to the other room for the night, you must understand how I’m feeling after what I saw.” She sounds absolutely heartless. Not in a way that comes off as cruel, just in the way she barely seems affected by something that weighs on his mind so heavily. Either way, he nodded and left their bedroom. 

No servants came to help him get ready for bed, as they usually do. Which isn't an issue, he wasn't completely incompetent. But it did leave him alone for the first time in centuries. Really, when was the last time he had been alone in a room for longer than a few minutes? He tried to not get caught up in the thought, shifting under the covers of the bed. It felt new. It felt unused.

Maybe it was the discomfort of sleeping in a bed that hadn't been touched for who knows how long, but Lucifer spent most of the night tossing and turning. How could he sleep with his mind so full of regret? But then, what was he regretting exactly? Was it the cheating on the one woman who's been by him through everything? Or was he regretting not saying something to you sooner? Not shutting the door when he had the chance? Regretting letting you go without a fight?

At some point in the night, he shot up, a sweating mess. He was still exhausted, even with the notion that he had just woken up from some night terror. Finally catching his breath, he slumps back down, shifting into some other sleeping position. With that one motion, he felt the stiffening problem in his shorts. Fuck. It wasn't there the whole night, but he knew exactly why it was here now. He laid on his back, spreading his knees a bit to gain better access to his aching groin. With the same goal of getting it over with, so he could go back to sleep, he palmed at his shorts before releasing his throbbing cock. Even if he convinced himself that this was just to help him get back to sleep, he couldn't prevent picturing you as he started to toy with himself

If you could see him in this state, you'd go mad. The image of him letting out soft whimpers to no one and pumping his own shaft, wishing his hand was your own.

With a speedy resolve, Lucifer pulls away his hand. Already disgusted with himself for essentially sending you to the streets to fend for yourself, he cleaned himself up before continuing to lay in the unfamiliar bed. The rest of the night was spent staring at the ceiling. It was all so.. Empty. He was so used to hearing the soft breathing of someone sleeping beside him, the comfort of being able to just turn his head and know he wasn't alone. He didn’t exactly miss the smell, but he could recognize the difference. The fragrance of whatever Lillith would use on her hair or skin, right before she would sleep, was gone. There was still a lingering scent, though. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. A sudden flash of your flushed appearance, ringing with an anticipation he hadn't seen in years, formed in his mind. He could have covered you in love bites and bruises right that instant - Oh. That must be it; He was smelling you. His senses were overwhelmed. By you.

“Sire! Breakfast!” A hasty knock at the bedroom door sent him sitting up quickly. He was still groggy since it didn't feel like he fell asleep at all. A random servant let themselves in, a tray of assorted breakfast pickings sitting heavily in their hands as they glided quickly to place it over his lap. He didn't normally have breakfast in bed. A surprise usually viewed as a treat, felt morbid to him. He usually had breakfast with..

With a heavy sigh, he dismisses the imp and pushes the tray off his lap. Who could have an appetite after everything that went on the night before?

As the days started to pass, Lillith eventually started acting like nothing had changed. Your replacement was quick to start working. Lucifer got along with her fine and Charlie seemed to like her plenty. Could this really be swept under the rug? Was a little kiss not worth a serious discussion after all these years? Apparently so. Neither of the royals brought it up to each other after that. They were actually fighting less than before - that is - Lucifer didn't feel it fair to try and rebuttal any of her arguments. And.. that’s the end of it. Just a fling that occurred on a restless night. Just a sinner making another sinful mistake, and the king of Hell creating more problems. There wasn't any more to it.

—

Extermination Day was fast approaching. This wasn't your first, but it was definitely jarring compared to how you handled it at the Morningstar Manor. You boarded up your windows, tore apart curtains, and generally made your hand-me-down apartment seem abandoned. No point in looking for sinners in an empty building, right? You were surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances, you brought a damned book to read while hiding in the safest area of your home. You didn't think much of it, Not until the screams began.

The battle cries became increasingly louder. The exorcists were quick to get to work, spreading their attacks through the most heavily populated areas first. The shouting and sobbing of other demons suddenly registered in your mind. You're terrified. It's easy for sinners to take their position for granted during their first year. You died on Earth, but here you are in Hell. You die in Hell, you regenerate, so you can continue your eternal punishment. But this extermination? It finally clicked in your mind that this could be it. This could be your end and you have no idea what would happen to you afterwards. Was there anything beyond Hell? Your spiraling thoughts were brought to a halt when some of the expertly nailed boards on your windows went flying across the room. You were safely tucked away in a closet, it wasn't closed, just ajar. You hoped that little detail would keep it clear that no demon would be stupid enough to hide in an open closet. You heard rustling, some things breaking, then breathing. She was so close to the closet, that you could hear her breathing. As she reached for the doorknob and you prepared for the worst, you could hear a command coming from outside. The exorcist left through your window in one fell swoop. You had no idea if that was the end of the extermination or if you had only managed to avoid one angel.

Gripping your knees to your chest, only prolonging your struggling breathing, you hoped for one thing. Your mind went spinning, as it does on occasion; After rough days or when certain guests weren't treating you very well, you would wish for help. In your fantasies, a knight in shining armor would come in, kick down the door, and save the day. He would whisk you off your feet and you'd have your happy ending. But today, extermination day, you wanted nothing more than for Lucifer to hold you. Not to save you, defend you from dangers, or play the hero, but to embrace you. Keep you close to his chest and tell you everything was going to be okay, and that you'll look back on this later and laugh. That you'll always be safe as long as you're with him.

Why did you have to ruin it? Things were so good before. You were safe, technically wealthy, and had a friend. A real friend who would help pick up your work if you ever felt the slightest overwhelmed, someone who would support and praise you, someone who would make you laugh. And you were too horned up to consider you could lose all of it.

A sharp pain running down your back forces you awake. Taking the time to recognize your surroundings, you recall crying yourself to sleep in the cramped safe haven you made for yourself. At least it worked. You're still here. Despite everything, you're still here. Taking your time, you stretched your stiff body and examined the damage to your home. It was in absolute shambles. The sight of the busted window made your blood run cold, just imagining an exorcist exploring your personal space. You took a mental note of everything you still had and carefully sat at the edge of your bed, your sheets littered with shards of window glass. This has to stop. You need some kind of respite again, you can't survive like this anymore.

—

You were embarrassed. It felt so strange going somewhere and admitting you need help, that was always a struggle for you. But to crawl to the establishment ran by Charlie? The toddler you raised? It would be near impossible to admit defeat to her. But you were shunned by the rest of the royal family, and quickly discovered you can't make it just living alone as a demon. There's only one other option. Heaven. You supposed it was time to give Redemption a shot. What else do you have to lose?

You hesitate to knock on the door once you're greeted with the signs hanging all over the front of the building. Homemade flyers and banners decorate the walls, saying things like Sinners Welcome!, Escape Redemption!, Ascend to the Heavens!, but the most important one was Free Housing! You knock so lightly on the door, that you have to do it again. It swung open -

You aren't exactly shocked by her appearance, she's been displayed on the news and you've seen her commercials a few times, but you still felt a stabbing pain in your chest. It was from a combination of nerves and.. was that pride? To see this little girl, you helped raise for a moment, as a grown woman who was pursuing her dreams?

She immediately bombarded you with questions and greetings. She still had that energy, didn't she?

"This is the lobby! And over here is the bar, if you drink, and here is -” You started to tune out her voice, still smiling and nodding when she looked at you. Taking in your surroundings, you would at least smile at the other demons you'd make eye contact with. You recognized Angel Dust, obviously a celebrity in Hell, but the rest were strangers to you. Emphasis on strange.

Finally appearing from the shadows, you did actually recognize the so-called radio demon. He would frequently come into your bakery with the overlord of Cannibal Town, Rosie. You'd serve them, which was not normally a service you'd provide, but your boss insisted. He seemed nice enough from those interactions, you saw no reason to fear him. Yet. He was kind enough to stop you and Charlie to chat.

"Ah, a familiar face!" He greeted you by taking up your hand and placing a light kiss on your knuckles, immediately sending shivers down your spine. "Pleasure to see you, again, dear." He spoke into your hand. "Quit the pleasure~" Your hand still held to his lips, he looked up to meet your eyes. With a nervous chuckle and a nod, you pull your hand away, almost pushing Charlie to move on. You didn't want him to see your flustered face.

"So.. How's your dad been?" You idiot. Why would you ask that? You didn't want to know the answer.

"Oh! Um.. That's a weird question - We don't talk much, he's doing important things you know, considering he's the king and all, but uh..good! Pretty sure he's.. good..." Her nervous reactions were just like her father's, but you didn't have time to dwell on that. You knew Lillith had disappeared, everyone did. You wondered what happened. You wondered what it would be like if you were still in the manor with them. If Lucifer would treat you differently with Lillith gone.. Stop. 

“Well, I used to work at the manor, actually.. erm.. Do you recognize me..? By any chance?" Charlie's face gleamed with excitement as she took your hands into hers. You were hopeful for a second.

"That is so cool! I haven't been home in ages.. so I'm not sure I remember you but - wow, we have so much to talk about!" She let out an excited squeal that left you smiling nervously. She didn't recognize you. That was fair, you only knew her when she was young, but you thought.. maybe...

Aging in Hell worked differently. While Charlie had truly grown, you've looked the same for multiple decades. You almost hoped that would trigger something in her mind.. thinking about it, you'd love to reconnect with her. But you can't. You can't look at her without seeing him. Maybe her not recognizing you is the best for now.

You settled into the hotel pretty quickly, and considering your housekeeping skills, the rest of the staff and residents seemed to warm up to you, asking for help with little things like mending or baking. You also helped Charlie with anything you could. She had a lot of questions about what her childhood home was like before she came along, and you had to do your best to dance around the important details.

As you were fixing up a skirt for Angel, one that was torn straight in half, your head was suddenly with radio static. A shadowy figure appeared in front of you. With Alastor looking down at you, he was much more intimidating. Doesn't stop the fact that he made you blush like crazy.

"Alastor. What's up?" You turned your head back down to continue your sewing, trying to keep a cool facade, then felt the seat next to you dip slightly.

"A little birdy told me you have an.. interesting past. Sounds like you have quite the history with the royal family, correct?" You hesitantly nod.

"I'd love to hear some stories if you have anything.. juicy." He definitely learned that word from Rosie. You chuckled at the sound of such a modern word warped with static. You gave him the same details you would tell Charlie, vague and definitely not juicy.

As you spoke and sewed at the same time, you ended up jabbing your finger with the needle. With a disappointed groan, you squeezed your finger, letting the blood drop grow. A quick reaction, Alastor lightly took a grasp of your wrist and brought your finger to his lips. With just a single swipe of his tongue, he wiped the blood clean. You tried your best to act disgusted, he was a cannibal after all, but your face was still heating up.

“O-Ookay.. thank you, I suppose..? Anyway..” You took a moment to shake any inappropriate thoughts from your head before returning to your stories. Alastor simply sat and nodded, occasionally letting out a little chortle at something you tried to joke about. "It was definitely a cushy job, I mean, you get free housing as a nanny, protection, food and - "

"A nanny, hmm?" Fuck. You quickly dropped what you were doing to face him. "Alastor, please don't say anything to Charlie. She doesn't even remember me since I had to leave when she was young, and I.. I want to keep it that way, okay? Keep this between us? Please?" You were begging. You had a great relationship with Charlie right now, there was no point bringing up the past. Or the mistakes you've made. You didn't see his smile grow, but it definitely did.

"Not a problem, my dear! I'm not one to blab.. since you asked so nicely." He looked at his clawed fingers as if they were neatly painted nails. You let out a sigh of relief, shakily reaching for your little sewing project in your lap to proceed where you left off.

"Thanks. I owe you one." You had no idea what you did, but apparently, that was enough for him. Enough to signal a deal. You officially owed Alastor a favor, and you had no idea what that could entail.

—

“Okay, everyone! My dad agreed to come and see what I'm - what we - are doing here! This could really help the hotel, so we are going to pretty it up and make it as welcoming as we can!” Charlie stood on the previously used trust-fall stage as she spoke.

“We’ve got one hour, people! Let’s get going!” The command from Vaggie, only made you sweat more. You stood in the small crowd of recently made friends, suddenly shrinking where you stood. You had no idea what Lucifer had been up to these past years. He definitely wasn't making any public appearances and Charlie rarely talked about him, so you just assumed he wasn't interested in her little project. It was shocking to you at first, that the gentle father you used to know had barely even spoken to her in almost a decade.

But that's beside the point. He was coming to the hotel. Stepping off the stage as the crowd dispersed, Charlie came directly to you. She held onto both your hands, before shining a giddy smile your way.

“Isn’t it exciting? Maybe he’ll recognize you! It’ll be like a little reunion!”  You simply smiled and nodded, before quickly stepping away. Charlie started directing people, nicely, to start cleaning things up and creating banners and other decorations. A familiar static ran through your core as you hit the top of the stairs, ready to hide wherever you could.

You groaned, “Alastor, I just need to get out of here, please don’t bug me right now.” He was quick to block your path, placing a hand on his chest as if he were wounded.

“How cruel of you, I simply want to chat! I’m just wondering how you’re doing, dear.” His voice was sweet, but it still put you on edge. You waved him off and kept walking.

“Don’t give me that shit, I know you don't really care.” You rolled your eyes as he continued to walk with you, occasionally brushing his side against yours with his strides. Alastor was becoming close to you over these past few months, even getting a little touchy at times. You definitely didn't mind it. You considered making some kind of move, but the idea of that failing made you cringe.

“Goodness, how rude you are today! Aren’t you excited to see your old employer? Or.. are you nervous?” He knew what he was doing. You did your best to hide your anxious reaction, but he saw right through it.

“M-Maybe a little nervous. There, are you happy now? I don’t want to see him, I’m not ready - “ You muffled a frustrated groan into your hands, stopping in place

“Not a problem, my dear! Why don’t you stick with me today? I would hate to see you in such a state of despair - ” Liar. “ - just think about it.” You nod your head, but you were pretty sure you wouldn't be leaving your room for the rest of the day.

“Good girl.” With a quick pat on your head and a flicker of the lights, Alastor disappeared from sight. Your whole body shivered as you stepped into your room. 

— 

You recognized his voice immediately, even from your room. it didn't help that he was practically shouting. You were sitting in your bed, your back against the headboard and your knees pulled tightly to your chest. You would grab a book, or maybe the phone you finally managed to buy, but you didn't. You sat with tears flowing down your cheeks. You weren’t sad, exactly, but your body had no idea how to process your emotions right now.

Luckily, a loud crash snapped you out of your frozen state, forcing you to carefully leave your room. You couldn't hear his voice anymore, just a loud ruckus, people screaming and gunshots. You assumed someone had broken down the wall, again, probably looking for another fight. That probably means he left, right? Taking your time, you carefully peek your head around the stairwell, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

No sign of Lucifer. Starting to descend the stairs, a giant portal opens mere feet away from you. Charlie and Lucifer return, his gigantic wings fluttering close as they embrace. You only realized the severity of the situation after appreciating his wings that you’ve never really seen this close before. They were beautiful - Focus.

As they discussed finally setting up Charlie’s meeting, she finally caught a glance of you just beginning to climb the stairs.

“Oh, Dad! I almost forgot! There was so much going on, I didn't get to show you our other guest!” She speedily approached you as she spoke, grabbing your hand and pulling you back down the stairs.

“She said she used to work at home! Isn't that cool?” Placing both her hands on your shoulders, you were essentially held captive.

“Oh! OH! Ahh.. hm! That is - That is definitely.. Interesting! Fun little fact there, isn't it?” His laughter became increasingly nervous and his cheeks became redder, as he tugged at the collar of his shirt to let the cool air of the room hit his suddenly heated skin.

“B-Been awhile, huh?? Long time no see! What are you up to? Today? These.. days..?” Charlie’s excitement only grew, shaking you a bit by your shoulders.

“You remember each other? That’s awesome! Maybe you two can catch up sometime! Were you close? She talks about how much she loved working there all the time!” Charlie’s words did little to fill the gaps. He had no idea why you were here, what you had told her - his eyes met yours finally, begging for the answer. What did you tell her?

Charlie’s one-sided conversation became a ringing in your ears, as she finally released you. You were only brought back by a hand placed delicately on the small of your back. In the back of your mind, you hoped it was Lucifer’s. That made you wince. Finally looking at its source you met Alastor’s eyes. He did say he would keep you company if you decided to come to the lobby. A sudden question popped into your head. Did Lucifer ever apologize? With Alastor's support, a surge of confidence gave you the strength to respond.

“We weren't that close, Charlie. I mean, we could catch up. If he wants to that is.” You leaned into Alastor's touch as you spoke, another decision you'll question later. In that moment, you wanted to treat him like shit. You wanted him to feel the way you did when you were sent away without a fight.

He seemed to shrink in place, his eye twitching when he let his gaze roam from your body up to Alastor’s, which was connected so sweetly by a gentle hold.

“Yeeaah! MAybe - “ His voice cracked, “ Welp! If you’re here - I know where to find you, I’ll uh.. Keep in touch..?” He did his best to send charlie a nervous smile, who was giving an enthusiastic thumbs up to him from behind you.

“Weren't you just leaving, Your Highness?” Alastor’s voice went crackly as he spoke, his hand snaking completely around your waist. He gave a nervous goodbye, before vanishing in a red smoke. Something strange happened just then. Before he left - he looked scared. But you still felt good doing what you did.

You blinked your eyes as if you had just been broken out of a trance. Looking around the silent room, you met Alastor’s eyes again, before quickly pulling yourself away from his grasp.

“I-I guess you did what you promised.. so.. Thank you?” letting out an awkward chuckle, you made your way back up the stairs. What came over you? Did you really want him to suffer? You had a chance to try and repair things, to ask why he did what he did. There's no way he'd try to reach out now. Right?

—

Hope y'all are liking the direction this is going, i know its getting a lil intense

I'm getting your requests btw! I'm loving the prompts I'm seeing, so I'll work on them as soon as I can! :)

!Taglist (A lot of you asked to be in the tag list, so if I missed you, please let me know!)

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee @0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman )

[itsharleystuff]

↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙

Gif not mine! | Read part two here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)

— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.

Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.

So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.

Joel Miller.

Joel mother-fucking Miller.

Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.

You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.

"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."

"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."

"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."

You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.

That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.

Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.

Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.

It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.

You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.

"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"

"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"

You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"

"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.

"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."

"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.

"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."

"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."

"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."

"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"

She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.

"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"

The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.

Breathtaking.

"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.

"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."

It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.

"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."

"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.

"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"

"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"

The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.

"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."

You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.

"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.

"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."

"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"

"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."

Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."

You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.

'Righteous', you'd called him.

But he isn't so much. No man ever is.

In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.

"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"

Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.

With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.

"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"

"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"

"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."

"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"

"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."

"Can I expect to see her later, too?"

Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.

So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.

(...)

When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.

Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.

You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.

After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.

"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"

He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.

"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.

"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile. 

"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."

"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."

Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—

"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.

"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"

"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."

"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.

"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."

They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.

He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.

"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."

"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"

"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."

"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.

"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.

"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.

"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.

"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"

His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.

"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”

Joel noticed.

"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."

Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.

"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"

"Boring. You know the drill."

"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.

"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.

You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"

"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."

A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."

Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"

"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."

"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."

With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"

"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."

"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."

"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.

A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.

"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.

He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.

"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.

"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."

With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.

"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.

"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoke."

He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.

"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.

If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.

"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.

"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."

It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.

"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.

"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.

"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.

"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"

His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.

"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference. 

"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."

You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"

The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."

His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."

He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.

"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."

"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."

"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase." 

"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"

"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."

His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"

The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.

"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."

He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.

The question is: will he take the bait?

"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.

"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.

"I think you are, sweetheart."

The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.

"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"

"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."

"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.

He doesn't buy it.

"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"

"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you come, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."

"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"

Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.

But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.

"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."

His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."

You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"

He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.

"M'not sure," he huffs.

It's true. He doesn't know anymore.

Your cig has burned out.

"I think you are, Mr. Miller."

Oh, such a clever girl indeed.

Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.

"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."

Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.

"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man in my mind."

Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.

But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.

For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.

He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.

Something about you bewitched him.

Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.

For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.

That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?

"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.

His cigarette has burned out too.

"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."

If Joel were a better man, he would've.

He definitely should have.

"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."

He'd be damned.

No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.

Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.

"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."

Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"

His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.

"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"

You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.

"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.

"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."

"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"

It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

Music to his ears.

He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.

You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.

Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.

"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.

"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."

His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.

"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."

"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.

His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.

"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."

"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."

His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.

"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."

His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.

Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.

"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"

You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."

He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.

"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.

You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.

A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.

"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."

"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.

"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.

He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.

"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.

Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.

"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."

You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.

"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.

His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails. 

The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.

He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.

You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.

"Joel-"

"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."

Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"

Did he even need to ask?

"Yes- god. Please..."

It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.

"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.

He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.

Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.

The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.

"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.

His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.

He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.

It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.

If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.

"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"

Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.

It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.

"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."

You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.

"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"

"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”

And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.

Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.

He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.

Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.

Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.

Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.

None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?

[thollandneedy]

Shower- Tom Holland

A/n: I was listening to "Pink Matter" while writing this btw

Warnings: Nudity and very sensual

Summary: Literally Tom praising Y/n until she surrenders to his seduction game

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

“It's finally over,” Y/n grunts as she closes the door to the room where she and Thomas were staying in Seattle after an event her boyfriend was supposed to attend in connection with a new movie that was about to be released.

“I know.” Thomas walks over to his girlfriend, who already has her heels in hand to return to the stylist later. “Do you want help with the dress?”

Y/n agrees, then laughs as she nods. The brunette's steps seem to be light, and the heels of his shoes tap against the floor. Just another one of his techniques to make him look taller in the photos. Straightening his messy curly hair after a vigorous flick to undo the gel, he breathed deeply as he saw his girlfriend waiting for him, leaning on the desk in front of one of the bedroom windows.

“You, Thomas Holland.” Y/n says slowly, feeling her neck embraced by a warm breath that runs down her spine, noticing that her boyfriend's fingers were unzipping her dress. “You mean no good”

The brunette's lips found the woman's back, making smacking sounds as they were placed on it, gradually stretching out one of his arms to wrap around her waist. The sound of Seattle seemed to be much quieter than London, while the cold weather meant that the moon was covered by cold mass clouds.

“Do I mean no good?” Holland asked with a sideways smile, pulling her closer to his body, making her feel every muscle that stiffened at his touch.

“Not at all.” Y/n's voice is light as a feather, while a waterfall seems to flow between her legs. “We need to take a shower” Y/n pulls away, once again being pulled tightly by Thomas's hand, who holds her waist as if he doesn't want her to slip out of his arms.

“Of course. You stay against the wall and I'll clean you up with my tongue.” The brunette's chocolate eyes met hers. Even more than a year into the relationship, you still managed to feel intimidated by your boyfriend when he said something dirty that showed his dark side.

“I'm serious. We have to catch the 5 a.m. flight tonight, and it's already 2 a.m.” The woman said, trying to convince her boyfriend to let her go to the bathroom, which coincidentally already had the door open and the lights on because of the smart apartment.

“Me too, love. You looked so beautiful today, I could hardly pay attention to what the directors were saying. You always steal the show.” Holland put one of his hands on the woman's chin, lifting her face with one of his fingers, who smiled and looked away. “How do you do that?”

“What?” Y/n asks, observing every detail of her boyfriend. How the round black glasses fit perfectly on his face, how his smile managed to be cute and sensual at the same time, and how his jaw clenched every time Y/n pulled the sexual tension to her side.

“ This.” Thomas turns away from his girlfriend, looking at her for a second. “You leave me breathless”

“I wanted you to leave me breathless.” Y/n retorts, finally joining in with the brunette, who accepts her participation by sliding her loose dress to the floor and then kneeling down, tracing kisses between her thighs.

“Really? Like that time in New York when I left you voiceless the next day?” The vibration of his voice against her thighs makes her core throb.

“Uh-huh.” The girl agrees, sliding her hands into the curls of the man who responds by gripping his girlfriend's ass tightly, seemingly in an involuntary move to bring her closer. His underwear seems to get tighter than usual, fulfilling his need for touch through wet kisses.

“Do you know what else I wanted?” Y/n asks in a velvety voice.

“What, my princess? I'll do whatever you want.” Holland seems to be surrendered to his desires, allowing himself to submit to his girlfriend who watches him from above with burning eyes.

“That we shower.” The girl says, causing the actor to tip his head downwards, laughing to himself in comic frustration.

“Are you seriously going to do this to me?” The man stands up, while Y/n grabs the fabric of his tie, undoing it with just a few simple movements.

“I'm exhausted and so are you.” Y/n says, pulling the black tie from Tom's neck.

“I'm never tired of you, love.” Thomas insists.

Y/n nods, smiling.

He knew exactly how to get her to give up her failed games of seduction

“If you behave, I'll think about your case.” The girl walks towards the en suite bathroom, feeling the ice on the floor.

“Really?” Holland asks, turning to the image of his girlfriend in lace panties with her breasts showing.

“Come here already, Thomas.” The woman rests her hands on the door frame, while the brunette takes off his shoes in a hurry to enter the room.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”