#some rough wall sex ensues

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Cruel Prince

♡ featuring: villain!diluc ragnvindr x princess!reader

♡ summary: you are forced to marry the manipulative prince of a faraway kingdom. malicious compliance ensues. wc: 3.2k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced orgasm, hate sex, no foreplay, breeding, heavy choking, spanking, face slapping, spit, creampie, hair pulling, rough sex, diluc is mega possessive

notes: I promiseee im gonna come out with shorter fics im so sorry i couldn't help myself the fanart is so good :(( art by eriimyon on twitter <3

Brilliance freckled through the silk drapes of your extravagant windows and onto your resting face. A silhouette rubs your arm, followed by “You must wake now, Your Grace.” Her amiable tone made your heavy eyes ajar, looking up to see the sweet twinkle of the maid. You sit up and stretch, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “Good morning!” you exclaim. She tucks the straggly hairs aside.   

“Good afternoon, you mean?”  

“Oh. Oops.” She shakes her head and hands you a lukewarm meal. This was a frequent occurrence, staying up late to twirl in your room until your feet ached. Fantasizing about the enchanting gambol you would share with your lover. When you eventually collapsed, you would dream of a man whisking you off to dance in a meadow. Being confined to the limited space of the baroque palace only intensified your curiosity. The kingdom your parent's shoulder is fruitful. Lined with riches and grateful civilians, all you know is comfortability. That comfortability bored you.  

“The king would like to speak with you downstairs once you’ve settled” she states. You give an exasperated sigh and flop onto the featherbed. You weren’t looking forward to this meeting. “M’kay. Thanks. Love you.”    

You make your way toward the dining room after breakfast. Almost every painting you skip by is of your older brother. It was no secret that you weren’t the favorite child. Your father wasn’t particularly fond of having a daughter. You slide down the railing of the grand staircase, entering the still air. Even the sound of your tiptoes carries volumes in complete quiet.  

“Did... someone die?” you say, trying to break the ice. Your brother and mother sit across from each other with their heads down, afraid to interrupt the king who sat at the end of the dining table.  

“No. Have a seat (Y/N).” he says, his hand signaling to the multitude of chairs remaining. You take the middle. Your father looks more stressed than usual, crescent shapes embedded between his eyebrows.  

“There is something we have to discuss” he proclaims, interlocking his fingers. “Sure.”  

“There’s been some disputes... between us. And the kingdom of Ragnvindr. Their king has been ill for many years now.”   

“That’s too bad for them” you say, checking out of the conversation. You know of the Ragnvindrs, but you weren’t interested. “It is. However, their commerce is flourishing. The civilians have an excess of resources. They’re the central hub for wine. If we had access to that, we could provide greatly for the public.”  

“Mm, okay.” Your mind darts to unique spots of detail decorating the ceiling.  

“Do you remember talking to Prince Diluc?” It hadn’t jogged your memory until now, but you recall one time the flaming redhead came to the palace a few months ago. You saw him in passing; exchanging few words in light-hearted conversation before he met with your father. You noted the calm scarlet pupils and his attentiveness when you spoke. He seemed amicable until you uncovered the rumors. Whenever your mother invited her friends, the walls would erupt with gossip. You couldn’t help but listen through the door. “- he tried to kill his father!” Your mother declines but another woman chimed in. “People don’t get suddenly ill like that. He must’ve poisoned him! The poor man can’t talk anymore so Prince Diluc runs everything.”  

“He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. Anyone who disagrees with him is beaten. Even death!” you heard the dramatic drawl of another. “Oh please, not with his brother around.” You thought it was funny and went straight to the maid to parrot their pompousness. It wasn’t until his brother died in their home weeks later under “mysterious circumstances”, that you started to take the allegations seriously.  

“He’s shaping out to be an exceptional young man.”  

“I guess. Why are you telling me this?” you ask. Your father sucks in a breath.  

“You are to marry Prince Diluc in a week’s time.” he declares. You freeze, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. Your heart dropped to your stomach.  

“What? Whe- who decided this?”  

“It was a collective decision from me, your mother, and the Ragnvindrs.”  

“No! I didn’t get to decide. You took away my choice!”  

“(Y/N), this will ensure peace for both of our kingdoms. We shall do what’s best for the-”  

“I don’t know who he is. How could you do that to your own daughter, what kind of father marries their child off to a stranger?” Your voice gets increasingly louder. You were too irate to back down. Your father is seething. 

“We will not argue about this-” he mumbles, the veins on his hands bulging from the tightening fists. 

“Do you even know who he is? He killed his own brother, and his people fear his retaliation. He’ll backstab you at any chance if it means more power. He’s using you-”  

“ENOUGH!” Your father slammed his leaden fists on the table, causing a harrowing bang to ring in your ears. All you can do is look at him, shaking, searching for any semblance of hope. He was unwavering.  

“I hate you.” Your defeated voice falls to a murmur, and you stumble to your room in a haze.  

The next 6 days were vague. You stayed in your room mostly, the maid accompanying you as you cry on and off for hours. Rage burned inside you, it dented furniture and ripped up cushions. You were exhausted and vengeful. An instructor comes by occasionally to teach you for your wedding day, but you find no joy in it.  

You're tranquil in the luxuriant flower garden you once found solace in. A garden you’d never see again after tonight. Suddenly, you hear the gate creak open. Strawberry strands peek behind the sunflowers. It was Diluc. The silence was painful. “Hello.”  

“Hello. I figured it would be considerate to come see you briefly” he returns, grabbing your hand. You catch yourself staring.  

“We are to be married soon.”  

“...Right.”  

“You don’t seem to be happy about this arrangement.”  

“I’m sure you have many requests for your hand in marriage. Why me?”  

“I don’t have a say in it. You don’t either.” That can’t be right, their king is senile you thought.   

“That’s not true. I know what you’re really like.” His eyes narrow into yours. “You could turn this entire kingdom to ash if you willed it.”  

“You know naught of me.”  

“You killed your brother and now you’re after my father, aren’t you?” He’s relaxed despite the accusations.  

“What would you do? As long as we are wedded, you will obey.” You snatch your hand from him.  

“I will do no such thing” you utter, holding your head high. He laughs and lifts your chin with a finger, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.  

“Such a naïve princess, so far beneath me. You will be mine. Act accordingly.” You want to slap that smug look off his face.  

“I’ll be going now. Don’t stay up too late.”  

Everything about your wedding is opulent. Visitors sport grandiose garments and intricate jewelry, leaving priceless gifts in your celebration. The travel to the kingdom of Ragnvindr was silent, minus the glares you shot to your parents. You disappear the minute you step down the aisle, taking notice of the guests. Faceless people with appropriated smiles and forced words of kindness; a scornful masquerade.  

Your vows are pitiful, and you wear an ingenuine smile for every “aww” in attendance. “I do” is said, and your fate is sealed through a chaste kiss.  

The dance arrived sooner than you thought. The floor was large and elegant, a thousand eyes watching you at the start of the staircase. You almost get stage fright. Diluc waits at the bottom, his gloved hand longing to take yours. You saunter to him. You expected him to be stiff and unprepared, but as you held his hand something changed. He scoops you by the waist with the other and twirls you around, igniting the music. His steps are effortless, bringing you near him and releasing you for another spin. The movements lift you into a different scene, of green pastures and bright blue sky. Only you and Diluc. The tune curled in your ears and whispered radiance. Your stride is loose, guided by the inducing notes and swinging pendant on your neck. Your arms glide past his chest and he steadies you gently in an intimate embrace. Dilucs lips barely hover over your ear.  

“You look stunning.”  

“I know. You look grotesque.” You feel a puff of wind against your ear. Glancing at him, you haven’t paid much attention to his appearance until now. His physique seemed to be chiseled from the finest marble, intentional with each contour. He smelled of musk and bitter vanilla, the warm glow of glittering chandeliers highlighting his rugged features.  

“You like what you see, hmm?” You didn’t reply.  

“Do you like to dance?”  

“It’s not your business.”  

“Well, if I'm right, you can dance here every day if you want. But you must behave.” His honeyed words made you hot, and you looked away. “No. You are my enemy.”  

“Very well, then.” He continued to entrap you, sewing seeds in your brain through the sway of your bodies. You were tangled in a field of thorns, pricked by his fleeting romantic gestures. It confused and enticed you. But the dance came to its end, and reality set in. He leaned down to kiss your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. The music resumes its normal pace, motioning people to return to the dance floor.  

The idea of Diluc displaying you like property tests your pettiness; you need his unruffled persona to snap. He watches you dance into the arms of another man, and you’re sure to make eye contact with him. You flash a mischievous smile as you spin through the exuberant crowd, leaving him behind. You thought you lost him. Just then, shade abruptly comes down on you and the nameless man. He turns first, cowering and slinking into the masses. You don’t face the shadow until your face is grabbed by leather and twisted sharply to encounter the reddening face of Diluc.  

“Have you lost your mind?”  

“If I’m beneath you, this shouldn’t bother you, right?” you say, smiling at your ability to break him.  

He grits his teeth. “You are forbidden from interacting with any man.”  

“By whom? Your words mean nothing.” He gets closer to you; a death stare bore into your pleased expression. “If you’re angry, do something.”  

You’ve never been hauled anywhere this fast. He pulled you through the bustling room and up the stairs with absurd force, not turning to you once. You were nearly hovering off the ground from his strength. He opened the sculpted doors leading to his bedroom and pushed you inside. Before you can see him, he pins you between himself and the ornate vanity. His nails stab into the wood the more he waits for your explanation.   

“What happened to your composure?” you taunt.  

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”  

“Not yours.” His lips share space with yours, noses scarcely touching.   

“Sorely mistaken. You belong to me.”  

“Prove it.”   

Carnal lust washed over you. Your lips instantly collide, cracking dams of yearning through sloppy kisses and smacking teeth. His tongue is demanding and seeks entry, but you deny him. He grabs your neck tightly.  

“Open.”  

“Say please.” Diluc pries your lips open with his fingers, playing with the wet mass while he nips your ear. The foreign feeling in your mouth makes your mind numb.  

“Nasty little minx.” he husks, forcing your tongue to stick out before it contacts his. His kisses are deep and primal, holding you close to the point of merging. He’s squeezing your neck occasionally and teasing the dizzying airflow. The fire cascading down his back envelopes you in a slow bleed, tickling your chest and face. His scent surrounds you, exhilarates you. You pierce his bottom lip with your teeth, looking to regain some sense of control and he groans from the feeling. He promptly hoists you off the ground with your back facing the vanity and his hands on your ass. His greed doesn’t stop, plunging and contorting the organ in unreachable places. You taste sprinkles of metallic flavor. The sensation has your knees weak. You push him away, both breathing heavily with a trail of spit between you.   

“This is nothing like the ceremony kiss.”  

“Don’t you want my full honesty?” he rasped. He dips down to your upper thigh, past the slit in your dress. His pointed fangs catch onto your garter, and he slips it off, groping the plush flesh as he lifts your leg up. Your fingers intertwine with his scalp and tug it, earning a harsh bite on your inner thigh. Rough kisses drag up your body until he makes it back to your lips. You tear his button-down open, navigating the solid muscle under the fabric. Light purple marks are left in your wake that decorate his collarbone. Diluc splits your dress down the back and shreds it off you. You're soaked, relishing in the volatile nature beyond the mask.  

He picks you up and hurls you on the bed, following you on top. You wrestle for dominance, entwined in passion. Somehow, Diluc ends up underneath you, your legs on both sides of him. You take this opportunity to pin his wrists and grind on his throbbing length. He lets you have it knowing that he’s stronger than you are. He kicks off his slacks and you pull down his stained boxers. A sudden fear hits you once they’re removed; his slightly curved cock was impossibly long and girthy, precome trickling down the angry tip. You weren’t sure it would fit.  

“You’re just going to gawk at it?” he says, restless from the ache. Nervousness blends in your gut. You wanted him badly, but you had to make him suffer for at least some time. Hovering over it, you slather his tip in your juices and admire the way he bites his lip. You lower your folds onto him, submerging the cockhead and leave it there, stirring your hips with it inside only to pull it out. Diluc is disheveled, star fished, and spread wildly across the sheets as he grunts from each plunge. He had to feel you, to claim you. 

“You want it?”  

“I don’t beg” he says flatly. You roll your eyes, immersing his shaft halfway. He releases a long shaky groan and attempts to buck his hips, but you rise before he can go further. His cock was covered in syrupy fluids from the moments of friction, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. 

“You won’t get anything with that repulsive attitude” you tease, and start moving at a leisurely pace, carefully stretching yourself out.  

“Repulsive, yet using me for your desires?”  

“That’s all you’re good for.” You’re shuddering from the feeling of your walls molding to the bruising size.  

“Then I’ll be sure to satisfy you.” His calloused fingers break out of your sparing clutch and grab your hips, jerking you down to the hilt with a soggy plap. The wind is knocked out of you, shockwaves through your spine as you heaved over trembling. It hurts, but you can’t help but feel aroused by the desperate look he gave you. “Mm good, you’re sucking me so tight.”   

“Shit- slow down-” you plead. He wraps his arms around your hips, arching your back and leaning you forward. “Quiet.” Diluc bends his knees and begins to bully his way into your cunt.  His thrusts are unforgiving, if he wasn’t holding you in place, you’d be airborne. He slips out completely and rams into you so deep it feels like he's burrowing into your stomach; yet you grip him like a vice, hungry for more. You were melting and all you heard was his quick beating heart and the wet squelching clash of your bodies. Diluc shifts to the vanity mirror opposite the bed, entranced by the violent rippling of your ass and sticky strings your puffy vulva left. You’re teeming on an orgasm, blurring the lines of pleasure and pain. 

“I’m gonna come- ah!” His hands move to your ass, striking each side hard enough to welt numerous times. He digs his nails into the searing flesh, savoring it. “Louder, I want everyone to know who owns you” he says and pushes his fingers in your mouth to pull your jaw slack. You deliver, allowing your erotic wails to echo through the halls. “Come for me princess.” His command sends you over the edge and you’re dissolved into pleasure, zeroing in on his guttural moans, the low fuck’s stuttering out of him. Your nails score his chest. He spreads your backside, enjoying the view of your convulsing heat drenching his balls.  

Diluc flips you over on your back before you’re done gathering yourself. He tosses the damp shirt on the floor and reveals the crisp v-line deliciously carved under his sculpted abs. He manhandles you into a pretzel, securing your sore thighs. He puts his hands on yours and pushes them back further. “Fucking filthy, you’re such a mess” he says, smearing his leaking shaft up and down your hypersensitive clit. He quickly engulfs himself in your gooey warmth again and sighs. “You’re beautiful like this.” He’s pounding hard, foreheads touching and breath mixing. You’re both sweating, mascara running down your cheeks and needy moans leaving either of you from addictive ecstasy. His tip licks your sweet spot consistently and your eyes loll back. “That’s it, take my cock like a good wife.” One hand reaches for your throat while the other flicks your clit rapidly. The firm grip dots your vision black, and you pulse from sick delight. He stops occasionally to slap you across your face. It stings, you hate him, but the spasming veins caressing your walls make you question that belief. “Oh my god - look at you” he moans, staring at the shiny white ring forming at the base of his thrusts. Your hands find passage in his thick tresses and guide his attention to you. The coil threatened to snap at any minute. “Gonna carry my baby, then you can never leave.”  

Your blood runs cold. “Huh? Wait-” You try to budge but he’s stronger than you, sweeping the nub faster with ravenous strokes. Electricity consumes your rational thoughts with a thumping finish, cloudy and fluttering. “Ngh- you’ll look so pretty with a belly” Diluc groans and chases his high. His eyes are glossed over, he throws his head back and finally falls apart, creamy ropes coating your insides with his balls flush against you. He pants as if he’s moved mountains and twitches from slow strokes, trying to get his come as deep in you as possible. His thumb presses upon your lips and you instinctively open your mouth. Spit settles on your tongue and he watches you swallow. You taste his kiss right after. When he pulls out, globs of semen dribble out your slit, but he fingers it back inside.   

“Keep it in” he says darkly. He glances at the pendant you’re still wearing—an invaluable heirloom from your parents—and snatches the chain off your neck. In one devastating hurl, he shatters it on the floor. “I’ll make sure you only have me.” 

[itgetsdark-x]

gruff dilf joel and younger snarky reader are sent on a mission out of jackson. they have a rough, long day of constant nitpicking and bitching (done worse by a shared horse). the reader is purposefully pressing his buttons because she wants to make him snap on her. they stop for the night at a safe house with one bed and filthy unprotected sex ensues. joel forces her into submission and her cockiness dissipates. super condescending and demeaning joel. breeding kink, pet names, the works 🙏🏼

A/N: what a return for me… pheewwww, this was hot to write ngl. I loved writing Joel as a bit more of an asshole and I just wanna say, I would do anything for snarky, gruff dilf joel… like literally anything. I hope this is okay for you, anon!

Summary: You were a skilled hunter, everyone in Jackson knew that and it often meant that you were sent out with someone just as skilled but not quite as young, Joel Miller.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m & f receiving), degrading talk (depends on how u look at it), implied age gap (not specified), just a lot of smut and swearing tbh

Characters: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 7.6k (lol, I’m sorry!)

Sunlight seeped through the threadbare curtains of your house, the early morning light drowning your soft skin as you slept peacefully. Three loud bangs drew you from your slumber and you let out a groan as you stretched your limbs out, rubbing the remnants of sleep away from your eyes. 

“Get your ass up!” You heard the familiar voice shout from outside and you groaned again, shoving your face into your pillow. 

“Fuck off.” You yelled, knowing the older male would be able to hear you through your open window. 

“Would if I could.” He retorted. “I’m letting myself in through the back. Hurry up, sick of waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes as you finally sat up in your bed, you heard the male enter your house downstairs and it immediately ignited anger in your bones. You stomped out of bed, grabbing your clothes and begrudgingly dressing yourself.

You gave your appearance a once over in the old mirror that hung pathetically on your walls and sighed at the dark circles under your eyes. After using your bathroom to freshen up, you traipsed down your stairs gruffly and shoved your feet into your worn boots. 

“Why are you here at the ass-crack of dawn, Miller?” You hissed, scowling at the male who sat on your old couch, his dirty boots carelessly resting on the coffee table in the middle of your lounge. 

“Aren’t you a ray of fuckin’ sunshine this morning.” He huffed. “Got a job to be getting on with, Maria and the guys gave me the instructions that we have to go run off some raiders. There’s a safe house half way that we can stay in tonight. Should be an easy job so long as you listen to me for once and get on with it.”

You groaned, loudly, as you bent down to lace up your boots; your old cargo trousers clung to the curve of your ass and thick, muscular thighs as you did so. Joel stood behind you, he couldn’t help but admire as the old material stretched as you moved. 

“Why exactly have I been instructed to work with you?” You shot back, turning to look at the male. 

Joel held a hand out as an offer to help you stand, you shot him a sour look, rolled your eyes and stood without a word. Joel clenched his jaw at your defiant behaviour and gently pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“Do I look like I know, little girl? Look, I don’t wanna be working with you, just as much as you don’t wanna be working with me. So how about you quit your bitchin’, get the job done and go back to being a sour little brat by yourself.”

“God, I fucking hate you, Joel Miller.” You said harshly, shoving past him and bumping him with your shoulder. 

You grabbed your backpack off the floor, it was the one you always used when going on jobs or patrols; it had all your necessities that you kept restocked. You opened your front door, and ushered for Joel to leave your house, he narrowed his eyes at you and walked out. You left behind him and made sure your house was shut up properly before walking down the three steps that lead to your house. 

“Where’s the other horse?!” You asked, ludicrously as Joel swung himself onto the large horse. 

“Only got allocated one, ‘lotta raiders and people sniffing around Jackson at the moment so they got a lot more patrols going on. Sorry kiddo, either you’re hiking all day or sucking it up and getting on with me.” He shrugged, patting the horse gently. 

You sighed deeply to yourself, as if this job or day couldn’t get worse; you had to spend it with Joel Miller on one horse. 

You had known Joel for a while now, since your first day in Jackson in fact. Him and Tommy found you stumbling around outside the gates of Jackson, whilst they were out on patrol, they saw you were injured and luckily, the people of Jackson allowed you to take residence within their community. 

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when this long-standing feud started with the older of the Miller brother’s but it had been going on for sometime. You despised the male, he always acted like he knew what was best when it came to hunting or patrols, whatever he said was the golden way of doing things and it drove you insane. Maybe it was your twisted attraction to the older male that made your stomach twist and settle in deep anger; you hated the way your pulse would race when he was near or the way your eyes would hungrily drink in all the sharp lines of the males features. He was too old to be any good for you, you knew that and maybe, just maybe, that’s why you kept up this pretence of hatred. 

Tommy was a stark contrast of his older brother; he had kind eyes and soft features, he actually cared about other people within the community. Joel on the other hand, he just cared about getting the job done and done right first time so he could get back home to Ellie, the kid he had arrived in Jackson with. You didn’t really care to ask how or why but Ellie, for what it seemed, was a cool kid and that you had spoken to a handful of times. 

“Your choice but we gotta leave now, it’s a 50 mile ride east to the safe house and I don’t expect it to be an easy one.” Joel stated bluntly. 

“Fine. Fucking fine.” You hissed, slinging your backpack onto your back and holding your rifle over your shoulder. 

It was a known fact that you were one of the more skilled hunters and fighters in Jackson; you had been fighting for yourself your whole life, you didn’t have anyone to fight for you or to keep you alive so from a very young age, you had to do it yourself with whatever resources you could find. Joel seemed to hate it, he seemed to hate the fact that you were younger than him and seemingly, knew what you were doing. 

That’s why you always got paired up together; Joel was skilled but older, you were younger and fitter but still on his skill level at handling your firearms. 

You slung yourself onto the horse, holding Joel’s muscular arm for leverage as you steadied yourself on the back of the animal. Your body was pressed tightly to Joel’s, your legs meeting at the front as your torso pressed to his back. He gently kicked the horse and encouraged the animal to move. 

You rode in silence through the town and out of the gates of Jackson. You watched your surroundings carefully, keeping an ear out for any nearby movement; you had heard the stories recently of people not making it back from their patrols. The raiders nearby were increasing and they were getting desperate for a fraction of what you all had in Jackson. 

The peaceful sounds of nature filled your ears as you rode in silence; just the horses’ hooves on the soft ground and noises of nearby wildlife; birds chirped happily and it almost made you spit out a laugh. Those innocent creatures had no idea of the depressing state that the world lived in now, they couldn’t ever know what loss meant; your mind wandered and you felt the bitter acid of frustration rise in your throat. 

“Wanna ease up on your grip?” Joel huffed, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“What?” You spat before you realised your hands were gripping tightly at his waist; you eased your grip and kept one hand on him to steady yourself whilst your other hand rested on your thigh. “Sorry.” You mumbled sheepishly. 

“What’s causin’ you to have the death-grip on me, anyway? Not normally scared ridin’.” He laughed smugly. 

You shrugged, he felt the jolt of your shoulder so he knew what you did without seeing it. 

“Natures just… funny.” You laughed sourly. “These birds, chirping away and living their normal lives; they ain’t ever known any different whereas we have, y’know. We’ve all lost something, someone and they don’t know shit. Just makes me angry.”

Your voice trailed off at the end, the images of your parents being taken from you when you were just seven years old played in your head like a worn out cassette. It was painful to constantly think of your mother’s screams as she was torn apart. Or the way your father hid you and told you to remain quiet and that was the last time you saw him. 

“Yeah, well, that’s life, kid. It’s shit.” Joel shrugged back.

He never opened up about his loss, about his daughter, he didn’t see the need to. People who were closest to him knew and he remembered the beautiful memories of his daughter, for him, that was enough. He knew the way people whispered about him, he could even see the way some even pointed as he walked by. “There’s Joel Miller, yeah, Tommy’s brother, he’s the one that lost a daughter and turned up with that kid months after Tommy arrived with Maria.”

You didn’t respond to Joel, instead you huffed and went back to taking in your surroundings. You travelled in a, somewhat, comfortable silence for a couple of hours before Joel halted the horse. 

“Why are we stopping? We’re in the middle of the Forrest?” You snapped, finger hovering over your trigger as you scoped out the landscape through your weapon’s scope. 

“Needa eat, piss and you can take charge on leading the next stretch. Problem with that, little girl?” He snapped right back. 

You sighed and reluctantly climbed down off the horse, you took the reins and carefully attached them to a nearby branch so your horse would stay secured whilst you all took a moments rest. 

Joel grabbed food out of his pack and chucked a sandwich in your direction, you quickly caught it with one hand and shot the male a cocky smile. 

“Gotta be quicker than that, old man.” You smirked. 

He rolled his eyes and stretched out his back with a deep groan, he had himself turned away from you as he stretched. You eyes soaked up every inch of the male, from his salt and peppered locks, down to his broad shoulders and down even farther to the subtle curves of his ass and muscular legs. As he stretched a slither of tanned skin was exposed and you mentally cursed yourself for wondering what Joel’s body would feel like under your skilled hands. You couldn’t help as you wondered even further how the male would sound as he came, would it be gruff like his groans as he stretched out his aching limbs or would it sound more tender and soft.

You physically shook your head to rid the mental images that were drowning your mind and you absently took a bite of your food as your eyes still hungrily wandered over Joel’s physique. He turned back to you, catching your eyes and he smirked, knowing full well that he had just caught you checking him out. 

“You alright there, darlin’? Lookin’ a bit flustered.” He chuckled, cockiness dripping from his voice. 

“Fine. Just thinking about Grayson.” You lied. Grayson was your most recent boyfriend, well, fling. You had both agreed to use each other to scratch the itches that your hands didn’t satisfy anymore; he was fairly well known among Jackson, especially to the women there and you knew Joel hated the younger male. 

“Sure.” Joel said, unconvinced but not willing to push the matter any further right now. 

An icy silence fell between the two of you once again, you stared at your food and bitterly ate at it. Your eyes trailed up slowly and bored into the older male as he sat down on the ground to eat; your eyes followed the lines of his legs as he sat until they fixated on his bulge. Jackson was small, people talked, women especially talked. Joel wasn’t one to sleep around carelessly but even when the world had ended, everyone has needs and Joel knew how to fulfil them. You knew he had quite the reputation, apparently he had the equipment and he apparently knew exactly how to use it. 

You finished your food and threw the wrapper to the side, you stretched your legs out with a delicate groan and leant back onto your arms, taking a moment to relax before you had to be cramped up on the horse again with Joel. Your mind wandered once again as the silence between you both persisted, you wondered how Joel’s rough hands would feel; how they would feel wrapped around your throat as his thick fingers fucked into you. Or how his cock would split you open as he pressed you down roughly to take every inch of him. You swallowed thickly, pushing the thoughts down as you gently squeezed your thighs together, trying anything to curb the throbbing between your legs. 

Joel could feel your eyes on him, he could feel the intense stares and he couldn’t help but smirk as he finished up his food; he loved the fact that he could get you all flustered and frustrated by simply just being. It would be a complete lie if Joel hadn’t thought about you in that way but it was a line he hadn’t crossed, mainly because you both couldn’t stop arguing long enough to realise the tension that was thick in the air. 

“We should get going.” You said gruffly, your voice shattering the silence abruptly. “Want to get to the safe house to actually sleep properly. Get your ass up, old man.”

“Old man.” Joel tutted, rolling his eyes. 

He moaned as he arose from the ground, further cementing your comment on his age. You let out a sharp laugh and shot him a smug look as you slung yourself onto the horse. 

“Pass me the reigns.” You said sharply. 

“Please?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah, thanks. Get on or get left behind.” You muttered. 

Joel let out a frustrated sigh and simply passed you the reigns before climbing onto the horse behind you. He shimmed himself into place until he was comfortable, you could feel his thick thighs rub up behind you; you were so close to him now, it felt different than when you were on the back of the horse. You cleared your throat awkwardly and kicked the horse into action. 

The soft sounds of the horses hooves in the mud filled your ears as all your brain could focus on was the feel of Joel grinding up behind you with every move of the horse. He kept a hand on your hip for his stability at times when the terrain proved bumpy. 

You could feel yourself trying to shift in the saddle, feeling grateful every time you felt the seam of your pants rub against your damp core in just the right way. You bit back frustrated groans and the safe house couldn’t come soon enough, you would wait until Joel would fall into his usual slumber to relieve yourself with your own needy fingers. 

-

The ride was long, excruciatingly so and that was only enhanced further by your own frustrations but Joel assured you that the safe house was just up ahead, only a few more miles. The sun was setting and your surroundings were growing darker by the minute, it was made you nervous but you persevered, not letting any weakness show to the older male. 

“What was that?” You muttered, pulling on the horses reigns to halt the animal and you brought your finger up to your lips to hush Joel. 

A twig snapped near you and immediately your hand was on your weapon, pulling the pistol from your thigh holster. 

“Probably just an animal, keep moving.” Joel barked, annoyed at your paranoia. 

“Joel, I’m not a dumb ass, that didn’t sound like an animal.” You snapped back, your voice a harsh whisper. 

You sat there, your eyes still scanning the darkening scene as you held your pistol out and aimed. 

“Shoulda listened to the little girl, old man.” An unfamiliar voice rang out, a silhouette coming into focus as your finger hovered over your trigger. 

“Fuck off, walk away and I won’t shoot your brains out right here.” You spat, pointing the gun in his direction. 

The unknown male whistled, the noise echoed throughout and suddenly, four more men came from the shadows; they were all holding various weapons, some with crow bars, some with bats and the leader, with a large knife. 

“Oh boys, look at her, such a feisty and pretty little thing.” The male laughed, his voice sent sickening chills down your spine. “Whatcha reckon she’s doing with this old guy? Probably fuckin’ him so he don’t kill her.”

You felt your skin crawl and you shot a look over at Joel, your eyes flickered with panic as they looked back over at the men. 

“Let the old man go, take me, I’ll do what you want.” You said quickly, knowing a distraction like that could help. 

Joel looked at you ludicrously and as his hand hovered over his knife that was out of sight of the males. 

“Whatcha say boys? You reckon we could use the pretty little thing… Depends I guess, how used up are you.” He snarled, the other men with him whistling and laughing as the leader spoke. “Wouldn’t want his,” he shot a look at Joel. “Sloppy seconds, don’t want a used up little whore.”

“I-I’m a virgin!” You lied, lowering your gun and slowly getting off the horse. You threw your gun behind you, away from the men and smiled as sweetly as you could. “I’m fresh, I promise. Not used at all.” You held your hands up in surrender.

The leader closed the space between you, with two large strides and he took a few strands of loose hair so he could twirl them in his fingers. He leant down to close the gap between you further and sniffed deeply. You closed your eyes as you cringed internally. 

His fingers gently stroked down your neck and pulled your T-shirt forward so he could peer down your shirt, your stomach flipped with sickness and whilst he was distracted, you landed a hard kick to his groin. He groaned loudly and immediately fell to the floor, you took his knife and without hesitation, plunged it into the side of his neck. 

“Fuckin’ crazy bitch.” He spluttered out as the life slowly drained from him. 

The other men came lurching forward, immediately springing into action and Joel jumped down from the horse, knife in hand to help fight off the others. One of the men scrambled to pick up your gun, they quickly grabbed it and shot at you as you tried to fight him for it, the bullet missed you but managed to graze your thigh. As the loud bang rang loud in everyone’s ears, Joel was able to injure anotjer enough that the rest all dispersed off into the overgrown trees. 

“If I see you again, you’re all fuckin’ dead. Hear me? Dead men fucking walking.” Joel barked as they scampered off, fleeing the scene. 

You breathed deeply, holding your thigh as you fell to the floor; the fabric of your pants was ripped where the bullet grazed your skin. The burning was intense and you hissed as you ripped some fabric from your shirt to wrap around your leg. 

“Let me.” Joel said, kneeling down to help. 

You kicked your leg, pushing the male away from you and you shot him a sour look. 

“I’m fucking fine, leave me alone. I’ve got it. Just get us to the safe house.” You hissed again, standing shakily. 

You bent down to pick up your gun that had been thrown across the ground and you landed a final kick to the two bodies on the ground before clambering awkwardly onto the horse. 

“You’re so stubborn. I’m just trying to help you.” Joel spat, his annoyance evident as he kicked the horse into a fast canter. 

“Fuck off, Joel. Just get us there without getting us killed, yeah?” 

“What do you think I’m doing?!” He bickered back. 

The final stretch of the journey was short, although it felt elongated with the burning in your leg. You arrived at the safe house, looking at the exterior, you should wondered how it could even be classed as a house. It was a sad looking shack, the old and splintered wood of the its exterior looked as if it could give out any second. 

“Is there supplies here? Medicines and what not?” You asked as you climbed off the horse, you tied up her reigns and watched as Joel grabbed the bags off the back harness on the horse. 

“Should be.” He muttered and led the way, he cautiously opened the building and checked out the surroundings; it was dark now and he quickly flicked on the lantern that was situated inside. 

The dull orange glow illuminated the small shack just enough for you to see one old, worse for wear bed in the corner and a small kitchenette area. Joel searched through the cupboards and found bandages and some old disinfectant. 

You sat down on the bed with a groan, flexing your leg as you inspected your wound. He tossed the supplies at you and shut up the building, after giving the outside a final inspection of any nearby activity. 

You had removed your trousers so you could better dress your dirty wound when Joel walked back in, he was pacing the creaky ground and pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. 

“You were fucking stupid back there, with those guys. Could have got yourself killed.” He finally barked. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see you with a better plan.” You snapped back, standing after being satisfied with your handy work. 

“Watch your tone with me, kid.” He snarled, getting closer to you. 

“Yeah? Or what? Whatcha gonna do, Miller?” You asked, squaring up to the older male. “I saved our ass back there and all because you were too chicken shit to do anything yourself. And I’m not a kid, so you watch your tone.” You accused, your slender finger landing some jabs into his shoulder. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” He bit back as he took your wrist with ease into his large hand and held it roughly. 

You winced as he twisted your arm so it was behind yourself now and out of his general area. You took your free hand and shoved the male away from you, he took a couple steps back after stumbling from the force of your shove. 

“Fuck off, Joel. You should just be glad I was there to save your sorry, old ass. You wouldn’t have been able to do shit by yourself.” You hissed in agitation and turned your back to the male. 

You bent down to rummage through your pack until you found the spare set of pants you carried with yourself; you couldn’t see the way the older male’s eyes were fixated on the curve of your ass in your panties or the way his cock twitched in his own pants. 

“Such a brat.” Joel spat. “Such a rude, fuckin’ brat. Someone should teach you some manners.”

You laughed as you stood once more and span to look at the male, your eyes were narrowed and you cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh yeah? Someone should teach me some manners?” You laughed and the male nodded, his hands balled into tight fists as his sides. “And who’s gonna do that? You? Like to see you try, old man.” You laughed once more, it was a condescending and loud noise, and it only seemed to anger the male more. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Joel smirked, voice cold and smug. “You’d be purring in my lap in no time, little girl. I see the way you stare at me, or the way you were rubbin’ yourself on the saddle earlier. Pathetic little girl. Should be taught some manners on how to behave properly.”

You lurched at the male, unable to control your anger anymore and you landed a loud slap to his face. 

“You’re such a cunt!” You cursed loudly, shoving past the male. 

He caught your wrist once more in a tight grip and pulled you back until you were stood in front of him again. 

“You’re only angry because I’ve called you out.” He said calmly, his voice still oozing with condescension. 

You opened your mouth to argue, to protest what he was saying but you didn’t have the chance because just as quick as you went to argue, his lips were pressing to yours in a hot and angry kiss. Joel weaved a hand around your throat and gently squeezed it as he kissed you. Your hands pawed at him eagerly, trying to strip any layers of clothing off of him as quick as you could. 

He bit at your bottom lip roughly and you whimpered, almost immediately folding for him. The kiss was filled with all the pining that had surrounded you both for months, even when both of you never realised it; it was angry, hot and full of clashing teeth. It summed the two of you up completely. Still, even now, you were both fighting for dominance to command the exchange. 

“Get on your fuckin’ knees.” Joel whispered against your lips, his hand still wrapped around your throat. 

You wanted to protest and tell him to fuck off, you wanted to snipe back and tell him to do the same but the words weren’t forming and they soon died in your mouth; instead, you were sinking to your knees to obediently look up at the male. Slowly, he released the hand from around your throat and smirked down at you. 

“Well,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know what to do from here, so fucking do it.” 

You looked at him with narrowed eyes and you opened your mouth to speak, before a sound could even leave he shot you another look, one that warned you to do other wise and you simply shut up. 

You roughly undid his worn trousers, your fingers were trembling slightly and you just prayed that the man above you didn’t notice; you knew you would never live it down. You pulled down the old fabric of his pants and didn’t hesitate to the same with his boxers. His cock sprung upwards, it was hard already and your eyes drank in the curve of his shaft and the way his tip was already leaking a small bead of precum.

You looked up at him with a smirk, it was a smug move and you knew it, clearly he was far more turned on then he cared to admit and that made you feel proud. 

“Whatcha waiting for, princess? Need me to spell it out for you?” He asked, holding your chin roughly to maintain eye contact. “Hm? Need me to spell out for you what it is that you need to be doing now? Poor little baby. I’ve heard some good things about this mouth now why don’t you put it to good use for once, rather than your incessant bitchin’.” Joel growled. 

“Fuck you. Prick.” You argued weakly before obliging. 

Joel still held your chin as he directed your mouth onto his large cock, you opened your mouth wide and slightly stuck out your tongue so his member could slide into the warm crevice with ease. You slowly started to bob your head up and down onto his cock and the male removed the grip from your chin, instead, he wove his thick fingers into your hair; he held on by the roots and tugged roughly to move your head. 

“Fuck.” He groaned deeply, his voice sounding, somehow, even gruffer than normal. “That’s it, good girl. Take my cock, I know you can do better than that.”

You couldn’t deny that the way Joel spoke to you drove your crazier than it should have. Your core throbbed at the thought of having the male inside of you and it drove you to bob your head quicker onto his length, eager to earn more praise from him. 

“Come on, that’s pathetic, little girl. I know you can do better than that.” He pushed your head down harder causing you to gag around him. Spit collected at the corners of your mouth and started to dribble down your chin has Joel controlled the speed of which your head was moving. “That’s it, god, fuck, wish you could see how pathetic you look right now. Spit dribbling down your chin as you take my cock like a good girl.”

You moaned around the male and fluttered your eyes shut as you concentrated on not choking on your own spit as Joel drove his cock roughly into your mouth until the head was hitting the back of your throat. 

Joel roughly pulled your hair until your mouth popped off him, a long string of spittle connected you to his length and he simply looked down at you and barked out a laugh. 

“Look at you,” he laughed again and your stomach bubbled with arousal and anger. “Finally being a good girl and listening to me. Maybe that’s what you need all along, isn’t it? Needed to taste my cock and find out what you’d been missing.”

“Asshole.” You hissed after sucking in a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. 

“Hmm? Guess I haven’t managed to teach you any manners just yet, that’s alright baby, they’ll come when you do.” He smirked, taking your throat once more in his hands and pulling you up. 

Your jaw tensed as you ground your teeth together.

“You seem angry, princess. Tell me, what’s up?” He cooed, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You’re such a prick, thinking you know everything all the fuckin’ time, well you don’t. Just ‘cause I sucked your cock doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” You muttered. 

“Oh? It doesn’t? So I’m not in charge? So, if I said, oh I dunno… If you behave and do as you’re told, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want but if you don’t well then… No orgasms for you, princess.” He chuckled, slowly trailing his hand down your arm and across your clothed breasts before he stroked the front of your damp panties. “Your move, baby girl.”

You shivered at his touches, his fingers ghosted over your panties and it took everything within yourself to not grab his hand and just rub up against it like a dog in heat. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, closing your eyes in despair. “Fine. Fuck.” You whimpered as Joel passed his fingers over your clothed heat again. “Fine! You’re in charge. Fine. Happy?” You yelled in defeat.

Joel laughed and kicked his boots off to the side so his trousers could follow suit. He peeled his jacket off before removing his old t-shirt, there he was, stood before you and completely naked. 

Your eyes roamed the expanse of his naked skin and appreciated every inch; for his age, he was fit and not in a sickly way. He was slim but broad in his shoulders, his arms were thick from handling guns and weapons during fights and his cock, you didn’t want to admit it but you needed more of it. 

“Take off your clothes and lay on the bed for me, spread your legs and show me that little cunt of yours.” He whispered in your ear before nudging you in that direction. 

You nodded albeit a little dumbly and did as your were told; you removed your ripped T-shirt from over your head and pulled off the old sports bra that contained your breasts, they fell from the fabric and Joel bit back a groan as he took in your body. You stepped out of your panties, and tossed them to the side, a thick damp strip staining the gusset of them. 

Joel’s hand pumped his cock slowly as he looked at you, his thumb rubbed the precum over his length and he hissed softly at the sensation. Your eyes were fixed on his as you slowly sank onto the bed, the tired springs beneath you creaked softly and you sat back, with your legs spread wide for the male. He could see your arousal from where he was stood, could see your sticky wetness that coated your slit already. 

“Touch yourself.” He commanded and you shook your head, your cheeks flushed in minor embarrassment. “Hm? I don’t recall asking. Fuckin’ touch yourself and show me, show me how you make yourself cum when no one is around.”

Your hands stroked over your breasts, your fingers toyed with your nipples and you whimpered as you gently pinched the buds. You allowed one of your hands to travel lower and finally, dip between your wet folds. You gently sunk a finger into your wet heat and moaned, your head fell back as you pumped your finger slowly inside of yourself. After a few seconds, you added another finger and you whined at the feeling of your walls stretching around your own digits. Your head was still lulled back and soft moans fell from your parted lips, Joel stood above you and pumped his cock as he watched on. 

“Look at me, I wanna see that pretty little face of yours as you fuck yourself for me.” He groaned. 

You lifted your head and almost instantly your eyes met, you were both fixated on one another’s gaze and it made something deep in your stomach twist and bubble. You knew you were close and you sped your fingers up to draw your orgasm closer. 

“Gonna cum.” You whispered, your breaths coming out in short and ragged spurts. 

“Ask me.” Joel shot back, speeding his hand up. “Ask for my permission like the good little girl I know you can be.”

“Fuck. Can I — can I cum?” 

“Can you cum… what?” He asked. 

“Please. Please can I cum. Please, Joel. Fuck. Need it so bad, please.” You whimpered pathetically, your hand working hard. 

“Mhm, good girl. That’s it. Fuckin’ look at me as you cum, that’s it. I wanna see your face when you cum. Good fuckin’ girl.” He cursed. 

Joel’s praises were all you needed to nudge you over the edge and tumble deep into your intense orgasm, your toes curled and thighs shook as you kept your direct eye contact with the male. Explicit curses fell from your lips like flowing stream and you shook heavily as you slowly started to come down. 

“Let me taste you.” Joel whispered, dropping to his knees and pulling you closer, he was careful to avoid your bandaged wound as he did so. 

He pulled your fingers from your wet heat and sucked them clean, groaning as he tasted your arousal for the first time. 

“So sweet. Tastes so sweet. All for me now, hm?” He asked and you replied silently with a nod of your head. 

Joel ducked his head down and without a second’s hesitation, he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth; his tongue lapped at the bud roughly and you all but screamed at him. It was intense, your hand flew to his head to grip harshly at his greying hair and it only caused the male to suckle at your bud harder. 

“Fuck. Shit. Fucking Christ, Joel.” You whimpered, your thighs trembling as he forced them open. 

“That’s it baby, cum for me. Cum with my mouth on your pretty clit.” 

You barely had a second to recover from your orgasm, you barely even came down from it and here Joel was, ripping another out of you almost instantly. If it didn’t feel so good, you would have shot him a snarky comment about it. 

Your fingers were shaking as they held onto Joel and your hips ground down to meet the males face harder as he elicited your second orgasm from you. Your hole clenched around air and you whimpered at the feeling of being so empty when all you wanted was to feel Joel’s cock inside of you. 

He flicked his tongue over your bud once more for good measure as you rode out your orgasm. Your stomach was heaving with the deep breaths you tried to suck in, your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle Joel fucking you. 

“On your knees, ass up and silence from you, I don’t wanna hear you arguing with me.” Joel muttered before he gently spanked your exposed pussy. 

You made a small noise, the slap sending ripples through your body. You nodded and scrambled on your shaking legs to get yourself into the position. 

Joel roughly manhandled your ass, he groped at the flesh roughly and spread you before he landed his hand down onto the smooth skin in a bruising spank. You let out of a yelp and tried to scarper away from his hands but instead he brought you back roughly and spanked you again but this time you let out a small moan. 

Satisfied with the response, Joel took his length and gently pressed the tip of his cock to your eager, wet hole. 

You whimpered and gently pushed your hips backwards, trying to encourage the man to hurry up but it only caused him to withdraw more and tut from behind you. You whined and shoved your face into your arms which were resting on the old mattress. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, princess. Tell me how bad you’ve wanted my cock all day.” He groaned, rubbing his fat cock head along your slit, letting it nudge at your clit with every pass. 

“Fuck you.” You spat out, not wanting to appease the male further. 

“I will if you just tell me, come on, sweetheart. Look at you, your needy hole is all but begging for me. I know you want it, so why don’t you be a good little girl and tell me how badly. Come on.” He cooed. 

You groaned and hid your face further into the crook of your arm, no one, not ever, had spoken to you like that during sex or sexual acts and you didn’t want to admit how much it was turning you on. You felt embarrassed at being so exposed to the male behind you and you felt your cheeks burning under his watchful gaze. 

“Fuck, Joel. Please.” You whined. 

“Please what? Hm? What d’ya want baby? Hm?”

“Joel, I’m not playing. Please. Please fuck me, I’ve wanted it so bad all day, c-couldn’t help but stare at your bulge earlier and imagine what it would feel like in me. Been soaked all day, was gonna wait until you were sleeping so I could rub my pussy and think about it. P-please.” You all but sobbed out, your voice sounded foreign as the words tumbled carelessly from your own lips. “I’m not even joking, if you tease me any more I’ll cum without either of us touching me and that’s just embarrassing for everyone. Please fuck me already, wanna feel your cum dripping out of my hole. Want you to fuck a baby into me.” The last sentence fell from your lips and you immediately wanted to withdraw. “I-I mean, I just. Fuck. Sorry. I’m just really turned on and I didn’t mean—.”

Joel didn’t give any more warning, he bottomed out into you with a deep groan and your fingers gripped at the sorry sheets beneath you both. 

“Fuckin’ hell, princess. So tight for me. You want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm? Wanna see if I can get you pregnant, huh? Bet you’d like that, filthy little slut.” Joel snarled, his hips pushing against your ass hard enough to leave marks. 

He was relentless with his pace, his thick cock drilled in and out of your tight hole and you felt drunk, felt drunk on the high of your previous orgasms and felt drunk on the older male’s cock. 

You couldn’t help but squirm under Joel, his strong hands held you in place to ensure you didn’t move too much. 

“C’mon baby girl, quit your squirmin’ for me… gotta keep nice and still whilst I fuck my cum into you. Gotta make sure it gets nice and deep.” He groaned. 

You clenched around the male as he spoke, his words causing your walls to flutter around him and you moaned softly, your head still buried deep into your own arm. Your fingers were still gripping at the sheets for dear life as Joel fucked into you, his own fingers gripped roughly at the soft flesh of your hips. 

“J-Joel…” you whimpered weakly. “Please can I cum again? P-please.”

Joel smiled from behind you and released on of his hands so he could intertwine it into your messy hair; he pressed your face into the mattress below you and rolled his hips rhythmically. You whimpered under the pressure of the man and felt yourself fluttering around him, knowing that another orgasm was impending imminently. 

“Mhm, wanna feel your pretty little pussy cum on my cock. That’s it, atta girl. Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? Taking me so well. Mmm, so proud of you, good baby.” He cooed, pulling his cock out to rub up against your clit. 

Your legs shook once more, the new sensation against your swollen clit driving you mad. He took his cock and roughly pressed it back into your wet heat and you groaned under him. You slid a hand under your bodies so your fingers could rub eagerly at your own clit, Joel noticed it and pressed your face hard into the rough fabric underneath you. 

Your fingers circled your clit and within seconds you were falling apart at the seams, you came around the male and your walls sucked him in deeper as you did so. 

His name fell from your lips like a spoken curse as you fell apart, your weak body collapsed as your orgasm ripped every shroud of energy you had left in you. Joel didn’t seem to mind, he more felt a sense of pride that he had this effect on you. 

He took both of your hips into his hands once more and sped his hips up, hungrily chasing his own high. 

“Such a good little pet for me, so beautiful when you’re fucked out. So obedient for me. Fuck. So good. Should fuck my seed into you so we can see you get all full and round, let everyone know in Jackson who you belong to. Eh? You like that?” Joel mumbled, his words barely stringing a sentence together between his ragged breaths. 

You nodded under the male eagerly and moaned weakly. Joel chuckled as he looked at your spent face and you clenched around him once again, that was all he needed and he was tumbling into his own orgasm. Joel bottomed himself out and held himself there, anchoring himself to you by your hips as you felt the first hot spurts of his cum coat your insides. You whined at the sensation of being so full of the male. 

“Fuck…” you whispered. 

Joel laughed gruffly as he collapsed on top of you, he barely held his weight up as he tried to suck down some deep breaths. After a few seconds, Joel finally built up the courage to collapse onto the sorry mattress next to you. The springs creaked loudly as he did so and you rolled onto your back with a wince, you knew you would be sore tomorrow for more than one reason. 

“Fuck!” You repeated, your mind slowly coming to terms with what just happened. 

“Not so cocky anymore, are you?” Joel laughed, leaning up on his elbows to peer down at you. 

“And yet, you’re still an asshole? Unbelievable.” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. 

“I prefer the term, consistent, darlin’.” He shot back, smugly before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

Joel got off the bed with a groan and quickly threw his clothes back on. 

“Take the first sleep, I’ll keep watch. Tomorrow we’ll go find those fuckers from today and make sure they don’t get anywhere near you again.” Joel said, softer this time. 

“You take the first sleep, y’always fall asleep on watch anyway. Old man. Can’t imagine how tired you are after fuckin’ that hard.” You teased back. 

“For once, just for once could you just listen to me and do as I say?” Joel huffed. 

“I just did… dunno if you remember? Your cock was inside of me? Pretty good. That’s all you’re gettin’ from me.” 

“Only pretty good? Huh…” Joel mumbled as he watched you dress yourself. “Guess I should give it another go and see if I can improve my score… and your manners since you seem to have forgotten them real quick.”

“Guess you should.” You replied quickly with a smirk. 

“Such a bitch.” Joel shook his head with a fond smile this time and quickly closed the distance between you both again. 

“Such an asshole.” You laughed and latched your lips onto his with a grin spread across your features. 

Maybe working with the older Miller again wouldn’t be the worse thing in the world, not anymore, anyway. 

——————————————————

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[lupinmoonlight]

Hello, I love your stories <3 Can I request for story professor Lupin x female student, with dominating Remus, a lot rough sex, blow job and very sweet and tender aftercare? :)

Corrupted

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You and Professor Lupin had been having an affair for some time already. However, this time, he couldn't help himself and practically snatches you from the corridors in broad daylight. Rough sex in Professor Lupin's quarters ensues. (2,450 words)

Warnings - professor/student, smut, blow job (reader giving), swallowing, rough sex, professor kink, lots of "good girl", implicit mention of spanking, reader climaxes twice, so does remus, marking, mention of bruising, mention of biting, choking, reader depicted as "innocent", mention of reader almost passing out, aftercare, not proof-read, my grammar.

Notes - Thank you so much for your comment and request, Anon! Sorry for taking a while for this, I hope you enjoy! I appreciate everyone's patience. I am slowly going through requests.

You were making your way to lunch when you felt yourself getting grabbed firmly and pulled aside. His approach was subtle yet deliberate, a skill he had mastered over the last few months. His voice was a warm whisper, barely audible in the sea of students, for your ears only. "My quarters. Now." 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. The picture of innocence, though your mind raced with vivid images of what was to come. His gaze held yours. Intense. Hungry. Unyielding. This was not a request. It was a command. 

"I...Yes, Professor Lupin," you managed to reply. 

"Good girl," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "Don't keep me waiting." 

He stepped back, blending seamlessly into the crowd, and you were left rooted to the spot, your knees nearly giving out. You took a moment to gather yourself, trying to calm the racing of your heart and the flush that coloured your cheeks. You glanced around, ensuring that no one had noticed your exchange, and made your way through the corridors. 

Reaching his quarters, you paused outside the door. You were nervous. It was a feeling that never went away, no matter how many times you met in this clandestine manner. He had an effect on you that was overwhelming, intoxicating, suffocating, in the most delightful way. The mere thought of him, of his presence, of his scent, was enough to make you combust. 

Finally feeling brave enough, you knocked softly. The door swung open, and there he stood. He stepped aside without a word, his eyes never leaving you, silently inviting you inside. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Remus moved closer, his tall frame effortlessly backing you into the wall. Your face instantly turned a deep shade of red under his intense gaze. 

"My, my," he murmured, a teasing lilt in his voice as he observed your reaction. "You really are the cutest when you're all flustered like this." 

You, utterly undone by his proximity and the deep timbre of his voice, could only manage a weak nod, your breath catching in your throat.

"Look at you," he murmured, "all flushed and breathless. Can't even look me in the eye, can you?" 

Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red if that was even possible, your gaze flitting down, unable to hold his. Remus's hand guided your face gently back towards his, his fingers trailing up to entangle in your hair. With a firm tug, he exposed your neck, leaning down to press his lips against your skin, leaving a mark that was as much a claim as it was a caress. 

Your knees weakened at the sensation, your grip on him tightening as a soft gasp escaped your lips, making him chuckle against your skin. 

Pulling back slightly, he watched you with a hungry gaze. "Wear your hair up tomorrow," he instructed. "I want to see that mark I left on you." 

You could only nod, too flustered to utter a single word. But Remus wasn't satisfied with just a nod. 

"Ah, ah," he admonished lightly. "Use your words, sweetheart." 

"Yes, Professor," you whispered. "I will." 

"What a good girl," he praised softly, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through you. He pressed closer, and you could feel the hardness of him against you through his trousers. Instinctively, you pressed back, seeking more contact. 

In a swift movement, Remus spun you around, pressing you into the wall. His hips pressed flush against yours. You tried to press back against him, your actions betraying your desperation. 

His response was primal, a growl rumbling in his chest. "You're so responsive, so eager," he observed, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you have any idea how much that turns me on?"

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need. "Professor, please," you begged. 

Another growl rumbled in his chest and before you could do anything, he abruptly pulled back and dragged you to his bedroom with an urgency that bordered desperation. He released your arm, eyeing you as if you were his prey and he was a starved predator. 

"On your knees," he commanded, and you stood there, unable to move, feeling vulnerable and captivated at the same time. 

"On. Your. Knees," he repeated and this time you obeyed, sinking down onto the floor in front of him. 

You looked up at him as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reached down and gripped your hair firmly, pulling your head towards him. Your eyes were perfectly aligned with his crotch, the outline of his hardened length straining against the fabric of his trousers. You swallowed thickly in anticipation, your lack of experience making you nervous. 

His free hand reached to unbuckle his belt and the sound of his zipper getting undone filled the room. The sight of you on your knees, looking so innocent and vulnerable, was maddening, making his length twitch. He finally freed himself, his eyes never leaving yours, his grip in your hair tightening. 

"Open," he commanded, guiding himself to your mouth. 

You obeyed, your lips parting to take him in. Your fingers delicately wrapped around him, and your lips, soft and inviting, approached his hardness. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening with need.

The first touch of your lips against his sensitive tip had him gasping. Your mouth was warm, wet, and perfect around him. You pulled back slightly, teasingly running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. The sensation made him jerk involuntarily, a throaty groan escaping him. Encouraged by his reaction, you began to work your way down, taking more of him in. "That's it," he murmured, his fingers instinctively tangling in your hair more firmly. 

He let you experiment with your pace as you started to bob your head in rhythm, eliciting deeper moans from him. Feeling bold, you decided to go deeper, to try and take him in fully. The tight constriction made his knees nearly buckle, causing him to throw his head back and moan aloud as he hit the back of your throat. "Good girl, so very good." 

His gaze found yours again, taking in every detail: the way your lips stretched around him, the slight watering of your eyes, the flicker of determination to please him. The sight was intoxicating. "So beautiful," he rasped, barely able to string words together. 

It didn't take long before his control began to waver. Gripping your head, he started to set the pace, moving in and out of your mouth in rhythmic thrusts. Each movement brought him closer to the edge, and he could see you trying your best to keep up, tears starting to roll down your flushed cheeks. 

You moaned around him, sending vibrations up his length, making him curse loudly. The sounds you made, the way you tried to keep up with his thrusts, only fueled his arousal further. "You're going to make me come," he warned, his grip on your hair tightening. 

"F-fuck," he growled as he felt his climax approaching, his thrusts becoming short and fast.

"Swallow," he commanded. "Be a good girl for me and swallow." 

You could only nod as he kept using your mouth for his pleasure until his body went taut and he thrust deep into your mouth one last time, his seed filling your throat in thick, warm strands. 

You choked a little, overwhelmed by him, but Remus held you there, his body throbbing with each pulse, until you swallowed everything. "Good girl," he muttered, his chest heaving from the intensity. 

The sight before him was so erotic, sending a new wave of arousal through him. You, still in your innocent school uniform, now tainted by his lust, your face flushed and lips swollen, tear-streaked cheeks. "Look at you," he purred, "so beautifully ruined for me." 

In a haze, you were hauled up from the floor and thrown on the bed, face down. "Can't keep my hands off you," he growled, hiking up your skirt with trembling hands, removing your panties hastily.

"Lift up your hips for me," he ordered, his voice firm and filled with hunger. 

Before you could comply, you felt a dip in the mattress and his strong hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, raising them up and positioning you to his liking. A small whimper escaped you as you felt vulnerable and exposed. He let out another growl at the sight of you, hips raised; a beautiful display of submission just for him. 

You felt his tip of teasing your entrance, eliciting a desperate moan from you as you tried to press back into him, desperate to have him inside you. 

"Good girls use their words to tell what they want," he practically growled as his hand landed sharply on your backside. 

"R-Remus...please," you begged breathlessly, but it wasn't good enough for him. With a fistful of your hair he tugged your head back, almost bending you in half from behind, his mouth next to your ear as he whispered "You will address me properly. Now try again. What do you want?" 

"I...I want you inside me. P-please, Professor," you tried again desperately. The anticipation was too much and you felt like you might be pushed over the edge without him even touching you. 

The words were barely out of your mouth when he pushed into you, filling you completely. There was no time for niceties, no time to get you ready. You cried out, clinging to the sheets below you as if they were your lifeline. "Professor!" Your voice came out as a pathetic whimper, barely audible amidst the heavy sounds of his laboured breathing. 

"So tight...Always so tight for me," he hissed. He dominated every inch of you, his trusts hard, deep, unrelenting. The sound of his body colliding with yours filled the room, each thrust driven by pure need. He was like a man starved, each touch, each bite, each mark, feeding a desire that felt like an endless pit. An insatiable void. 

His hands roamed over you as he kept pumping into her relentlessly. He was everywhere. One of his hands reached around your throat, restricting your airways in the most delightful way. The feeling went straight to your core and your climax hit you unexpectedly, with such force that your vision went blank. You felt yourself spiraling, the world narrowing to the sensation of him inside you. With a cry, you tightened around him, surrendering to the intensity of your release. 

Your face was pushed down, the sheets muffling your whimpers as his body pushed you into the mattress. He didn't care that you came. He didn't care that you were overstimulated. He didn't stop. He continued his merciless pace, the pleasure now bordering on pain. 

"God, Y/N," he cursed, the force of his thrusts increasing. "You feel so damn good." 

You cried out, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't move. All you could do what lay there, on your stomach, hips raised as your Professor took what he needed. And it was perfect. 

You cried out again, your body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over you unexpectedly. Having you clench around him like that was his undoing. With a final thrust, he buried himself deep within you, causing you to gasp. "That's it, take all of me," he rasped as he spilled into you with abandon, his hands gripping your hips possessively. 

Each thrust that followed milked him for every drop, his hips grinding against yours as he sought to sate the hunger that consumed him. As his movements slowly stilled, he remained inside you for a few more moments, trying to catch his breath. A soft kiss was place on your shoulder but you barely registered it. 

He withdrew slowly and sat back on his heels, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in heavy pants. You tried to move, but a gentle hand on the small of your back stopped you. "No. Let me. I want to take care of you." 

You slumped back on the bed, overwhelmed by what had just transpired. You were shivering, your breathing was laboured, you couldn't speak, couldn't move. Remus, ever attentive to your needs, quickly recognized the signs of you experiencing a drop, a common reaction after such intense moments. His nurturing instincts kicked in, seamlessly shifting from the dominant beast to the caring protector he inherently was. With a soft incantation, he cast a cleaning spell over you both, removing any physical traces of your shared passion. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice. When you didn't respond, too caught in trying to ground yourself back, he gently turned you around, sitting you up. His hands were tender as they cradled your cheeks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. 

"Look at me, love. Breathe with me," he coaxed gently. He took deep, deliberate breaths, guiding you to sync your breathing with his. Slowly, your breaths became more regular, the trembling of your body easing as you came back to yourself. 

Once you seemed calmer, Remus helped you back into your underwear and smoothed your clothes with a careful touch. He conjured a glass of water with another quick spell and held it to your lips, encouraging you to drink. Still slightly dazed, you complied, the cool water a welcome relief to your sore throat. 

"Good girl," he praised softly, his voice now warm with affection. His approval brought a faint smile to your lips, a small sign that you were recovering. 

"There you are," he cooed, pressing the softest of kisses to your forehead. After you finished your drink, he lay back down, gently pulling you into his embrace. He held you close, cradling you against his chest as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His touch was gentle, reverent, as he peppered your face with light kisses. 

"I'm here, you're safe," he murmured soothingly. 

You nestled into his embrace, the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart grounding you. 

"You made me miss lunch, you know? That's quite unforgivable, Professor Lupin." 

Remus looked at you with feigned guilt, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh dear, I am terribly sorry. How can I possibly make up for such a grievous error?" 

You couldn't help but giggle at his theatrics. "Well, I suppose you were lunch enough for today," you teased back with a huff. 

He sighed playfully, shaking his head. "I fear I've corrupted you, Y/N." 

"Perhaps it is I who have corrupted you, Professor."

[chaichaiiskai]

Hi okay so if you're still doing a request can I get a (baki) Pickle x bottom male reader. So I want public sex where Pickle FuCks Reader Hard infront of everyone kinda like the reporter scene but you know with consent but if your not comfortable with that just normal rough sex in a bed room or forest since that's where Pickle is from.

If your not comfortable with this then that's okay i understand.

notes: OKAY, so, I did not see this until I wrote the last pickle request so I'm gonna connect this ask with that one— it's right here if ya wanna read it, deffo recommend it bc of lore :D hope ya enjoy this too !!! can't even lie, I'm thoroughly invested in the story of Pickle and Cucumber and I'm honestly thinking about keeping these two as reoccurring on my blog ngl.

warnings: mdni, homophobes do not interact, amab reader, he/him pronouns, violence against others that aren't reader, murder, blood and blood depictions, brief description of violence against woman and their wombs, mxm, pickle is very protective and basically yandere but who wouldn't be during the jurassic time period, rim jobs, lack of prep before anal, noncon mentioned but not against reader, reader is called cucumber by the facility and is basically a nickname, cumflation, belly bulge, size difference, very massive, very long, giant cock that is more weapon than genital, rough and unprotected sex bc duh they're both primitive men, hunting of animals, drugging // food tampering— I think that's it, lemme know if I missed anything.

The ultimate goal of the experiment was to further test the pure, raw strength of the primitive man when fueled by emotion and longing, going without food for a week. And their experiment proved to be true, far too true as a matter of fact. Multiple casualties would be forever staining the pages that reported the experiment and any sane person would have ended the experiment then and there to reunite the two lovers again.

However, a man at the top, who thought of nothing but himself, wanted to see just how far Pickle would go, even if that meant more casualties would have to be made. And so, the bloodbath ensued.

As Pickle roamed the facility halls, wave after wave came at him, rubber bullets aimed his way and raining on him that proved to have no impact on him whatsoever. He easily swiped aside the nuisances that are in his way, swiping away the small people until they go flying, hitting nearby walls— the sound of cracking bones, splattering, and coughing is sickening. So sickening that some of the scientists, though they love their jobs, find themselves going against the higher-ups.

One bravely moves in front of Pickle and holds his hands up, attempting to seem as if he was defenseless and then began to point behind him, pointing at a large door that was down the hall the primitive man was currently stalking down.

"He's there! There!"

He quickly announced, and then used his other hand to wave in the direction of the security camera he knew was currently watching the entire sight.

And on cue, the giant doors opened. To your surprise, the wall opening woke you out of your forced slumber that was brought onto you by a primitive form of depression sparked by your loss of companionship.

With heightened abilities, Pickle smelled you before he saw you, and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he was unable to make a sound, simply getting into all fours again and bounding towards you at full-speed. Despite being weakened by the lack of nutrients, you slowly sat up onto your hands and knees before feeling yourself being tackled back to the ground, bodies rolling until the two of your slammed against a tree, Pickle's back took the blow and nearly uprooted the thing. He rolled again onto a patch of grass, still holding you comfortably in his arms until you were in a patch of grass, dropping you onto your back while he buried his face into your neck, starting to nibble onto any part of it that he can reach, sharp fang-like teeth scratching over your skin and leaving indents.

The door to this new enclosure is shut and on the outside, the cleaning procedure begins, but not without some scolding to the researchers who went against the higher-ups. Cucumber and Pickle did not seem to care about whatever was going on outside of them, far more focused on each other and keeping each other close.

From then on, Pickle cannot be more than a foot away from you, and he can only sleep when he's on top of you, shielding you from whatever threatens the outside.

The only scientists he allows inside the enclosure are small, fragile-looking women. He'd already killed a few of the male scientists who dared to enter, a warning and a threat. And recently, in hopes to appease the two primitive men and get back on their neutral sides, wild animals have been introduced into the enclosure, giving the illusion of a hunt for the both of you, and unfortunately, your enjoyment in fruit had been ruined thanks to the scientists and their cruel, cruel experiment.

You were only able to eat what Pickle hunted, and in another week, you looked more alive again, even helping with the hunt and relishing in Pickle's presence yet again. So far, it seemed that Pickle seemed to enjoy crocodile meat quite a lot, whilst you had your own preferences. And once you were back at a healthy level of energy, Pickle immediately recognized it and let his instincts win, one could not blame him for feeding into such carnal desires.

After an especially filling meal, you find yourself being hunted just like your previous meal, but it's the kind of hunt that gets the hair on the back of your neck standing. Your primitive partner growls at you in a suggestive manner and suddenly, he's chasing you around the enclosure, getting the adrenaline pumping in your veins and his. And when he's had enough, he's got you pinned down onto the ground, pulling at the loin cloth that keeps you from him until it comes off, making him toss it aside. He's hurried and hungry, yanking his own loin cloth off as you roll onto your stomach, eager for him to mount you, hardened cock swinging between your legs while a bead of pre dribbles out the top. You're on your knees, propping your body up in the ideal position for— breeding essentially.

Pickle is eager himself, lining his massively thick, veiny dick up with your rim, nearly growling at the anticipation as he presses the head against it and starts to push. Every part of the tanned man is large, including his third leg that was just a few inches over a foot in length and thick like a world record-breaking, sizable anaconda. He tried to force himself into you, but you push him out, obviously because it's been a while and it seems to frustrate the beast, eliciting a growl from him as he eyes your little hole with his brows furrowed. Everytime you breathe, it winks at him, almost like it's taunting him and you can't help but to grow frustrated, huffing at him from over your shoulder, but he can't stop staring at your hole, curious eyes drilling themselves into your ass.

Then, yet another instinct comes over him as he leans down, shoving his tongue past the first ring of muscle, the fat thing nearly longer than his cock. The sensation is strange but it only makes more pearls of pre dribble from your tip, your own cock seemingly throbbing as his wild tongue throbs around inside of you from behind, forcibly stretching you with its width. The muscle thrashes around inside of you, wildly moving about, darting in and out of you like an excitable puppy drinking water from a lake. His tongue movements are uncoordinated and hungry, so much to the point that it's darting about with no clear destination, even causing a few stray licks to the underside of your balls that makes you flinch every time.

Pickle isn't particularly sure what he's doing or why he's doing it, but he couldn't stop himself from feeding into the curiosity. It surprised you as well, considering he's never done to you before and you had never felt so good down there like this.

Shamelessly, a group of researchers and scientists were watching this ensemble unfold in real-time, gathered around with food in their hands like shameless perverts watching an adult film.

For science! They would most likely say, ignoring their own instincts to shove a hand in their pants at the scene in front of them.

The licking, although pleasant, was becoming too much and there was a buildup you were feeling in your shaft that had you panting like a dog, clawing at the ground and smashing your skull against the dirt. For some unknown reason, Pickle took your sounds as a signal of sorts and he remembered his own issue, heavy uncircumcised cock seeming to throb and lift with eagerness. Yet again, he pulls himself back to position himself properly, lining himself up with your hole and then pushes the tip in, a chirp of excitement escaping him as he plunges in deeper, going in about halfway before you feel as though the insides of your stomach are literally being rearranged. Fertile balls are pressed up against yours as he manages to jam every inch into your awaiting hole, somehow you're able to take every inch, an impressive feat within itself. Perhaps, this is why he took you as a lover. A flash of memories comes to mind to both you and Pickle.

. . .

Pickle had his share of sexual partners— instinctually he went after women, who he ultimately killed by accident after ripping through their wombs with the deadly length between his thighs. He had found a woman once, able to take him fully, but she did not recuperate his feelings and escaped him after a session of breeding. Eventually, Pickle stumbled upon Cucumber, a man of smaller stature than him, but strong in his own way. Their first meeting was anything but friendly, both of them going after the same prey of a Jurassic animal, looking for their next meal, fighting each other while simultaneously fighting the creature in hopes of getting meat. Ultimately, they ended up killing the beast together and bregrundingly shared, taking from the hunted beast without acknowledging each other much after.

But through unfortunate events, you continued to run into each other at different points in both of your traveling journeys, but continued to ignore each other regardless. And on one of those fateful meet-ups, however, Pickle had made a mistake— a mistake that brought on a sense of fear that he'd never once had to deal with before.

Consuming a wasp.

The pain he'd felt from it made him more vocal than ever, scaring away beasts and other people alike. However, Cucumber was not fearful, instead, he went a pang of sympathy for the man who he'd considered somewhat of a companion.

Immediately jumping into action, tapping into a nurturing side that he sometimes would ignore, he wandered hurriedly to the nearest lake of water, cupped his hands and gathered a healthy amount of it into his hands and wandered towards the other man. He growled at that primitive man who was still in excruciating pain, opening his mouth in an attempt to get the message across to him and with tears in his eyes, Pickle obliged, reminding Cucumber of a whimpering babe who was hungry for milk.

Dumping the handfuls of water into Pickle's mouth, you watched as he held the water in his mouth for a moment and then spit it out, along with the wasp, coughing up quite a storm. You frowned as he coughed, hesitantly patting his back afterwards, and after a while, you left to gather something to soothe the residual burning— fruits, which you forced Pickle to eat, despite his disdain for eating things that he did not hunt himself. But when he did as you wanted, the burn disappeared and you were ready to take your leave after helping him— only to have the man hot on your tail, everywhere you went, following you closely from behind.

Surprisingly, you didn't shoo him away, and that was what began the true extent of your strange relationship. It didn't take much longer before he would develop something new, love, and you returned the feeling. And in a moment of intimacy one late night, under the stars, he'd mounted you for the first time like a woman and breeded you under the moonlight. It was somewhat romantic, even with the guttural sounds of pleasure and delight that came from you both. And when you took him in his entirety without complaint, he was even more infatuated with you than he'd already been.

. . .

The primal man is grinning at this point as he's able to properly mount you, beginning to thrust at a pace that has your body rocking back and forth, his mouth and the area around it shiny with his own saliva as he plunges further. You're lucky you're stronger than the average and modern man, claws digging further into the dirt to keep yourself from toppling forward. Pickle is pounding into you, thrusting his hips with a tenacity that's enough to shake the trees around you, you're lucky your body is built for the brutality.

Watchful eyes are carefully observing, even going as far as to have a discussion onto why the two of you had chosen each other as mates since there was no chance of either of you reproducing. Then again, did reproducing matter much to the primitive people of your time? Apparently not, though Pickle seemed to be /breeding/ you as if it were indeed, possible.

Poor Cucumber was experiencing the true strength of Pickle's excitement, quite literally being fucked into the ground by a beast of mass destruction. The researchers collectively feel a sense of great respect for you as you handle the creature on top of you with gritted teeth, groaning and growling as you take every inch. It's a rough experience that leaves you teary eyed, wobbly lipped, and whining, just like all the other times he has his way with you. Pickle doesn't seem to let up, not even when your teeth chatter as a familiar and growing pleasure comes over you, blossoming in your hips and cock, strings of white spewing from your tip and onto the ground beneath you in spurts that seem to last far too long. Your cock seems to soften after cumming a second time, though it continues to twitch and swing with the pistoning of barbaric hips that continuously drive you forward. Squelching and the sound of skin repeatedly colliding is nearly as loud as the proud growls Pickle does, his chest vibrating with an animalistic equivalent of pride when you cum, squeezing his erection enough to milk him just right.

And fortunately, your poor hole doesn't need to take much more abuse before Pickle reaches his edge as well, unleashing copious amounts of his load into you, cum spilling out the edges where your bodies connected, dribbling out in the dirt like lines of salt. You'd felt full like this before, never able to get used to the feeling but still enjoying it regardless, a strange after result is the slight pouch in your lower belly that is made due to an immense amount of cum. Pickle holds himself there for a bit before pulling out and he's /still/ coming, ropes of the sticky white landing on your back and your rear, the insane amount he's dumped into you beginning to spill out and trickle from your gaping, spasming hole. Your lover lets out an affirmative, satisfied groan and then lays down onto the ground on his side right next to you. He wraps one of his lengthy arms around you and pulls you towards him, your chest neerly flush against his, and you rest your forehead against his shoulder, panting as you attempt to catch your breath, almost as if you'd been running after an especially fast prey. Pickle shuts his eyes and rests his chin on top of your head as he slowly shuts his eyes, having been drained of energy. It's not long before he's asleep and his body naturally locks in place around you, almost like a protective barrier. One of his legs is draped over yours, hooked behind your knees, his monstrous cock nestled between your thighs while yours is squeezed between your stomach and his abdomen, lower bodies entangled where it's almost difficult to distinguish between limbs. His arm is still wrapped around your back, the other had joined, slipping beneath you as his hands interlocked behind your back. This position is new, he's usually laying right on top of you when he sleeps, completely covering you up like a shell on the back of a turtle, making it nearly impossible to see you beneath him unless one looked from very specific angles.

You're tired as well, hole still leaking with Pickle's cum as your eyelids grow heavy. Your body is hot and sticky with sweat, making your skin stick to his, but you always find comfort in his presence, snaking your own arms around the massive man's body the best way you can before you drift off to sleep as well.

To the researchers and facility crew who are still watching on the security cams, they see the cuddling session as wholesome— despite the previous actions of you both— and nearly coo at the cuddling session.

Perhaps they would need to adjust their research and find different questions to think about...

[anto-pops]

Beseech Me - Ominis Gaunt x Female! Reader

Summary: Ominis works too much, and your neediness results in you adamantly refusing to go to bed without him. He comes up with a torturous compromise.

Alternatively summarized as Ominis tormenting you while he works until you can't take it anymore. Hot and frantic on-the-desk antics ensue.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex on a desk, Dominis if you squint

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 as per usual !

“Please, Ominis,” you whined breathlessly, pinching your eyes shut as you fought the urge to writhe in his lap. “Please move– please.”

The man in question only chuckled under his breath, gliding his fingertips lightly up your spine as he maintained his charmed hold on his dictation quill. He made no move to heed your request, instead opting to keep working as if he weren’t buried balls deep inside of your tight heat. When you had asked him to take a break to spend time with you earlier, this was the absolute last thing you had anticipated. The only reason you’d agreed to entertain his idea was because you had convinced yourself that his restraint wouldn’t last– that he would cave and take you on top of the desk in the way you were desperate for him to– but evidently his self-control was unbreakable. 

You’d never been proven so wrong in your life. He was clearly deriving some sort of sick, twisted pleasure from toying with you in this manner, and it seemed like the more you begged, the slower his quill moved across the parchment. At this rate, you were certain you would be forced to sit on his cock until dawn. 

“You’re hardly in any position to be telling me what to do,” his warm breath ghosted over your neck, the barely there feeling of his lips against your skin making your head spin with arousal. “You were the one who couldn’t wait until I finished my work. Besides, I think this is a perfectly reasonable compromise.” 

Swallowing thickly, you dug your nails into his clothed shoulders in a bid to keep yourself still. The urge to rock down into his lap was insatiable, but you already knew that doing so would set you back irritatingly further. 

“Don’t move, or you won’t get anything from me,” were Ominis’ exact words. You didn’t doubt for a second that he would follow through on that promise if you let your impatience get the best of you. 

You wet your lips and cracked your eyes open to stare at the wall over his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the pulsing of his shaft within your walls. “It’s just– you’re always working. There’s always more for you to get done, and I get lonely. Please take a break– please fuck me, Ominis, I’m begging you.”

The blond’s fingers skirted down your back once more before moving to squeeze at the curve of your waist, as though he were about to relent. He didn’t, though, and instead opted to press a hot, chaste kiss to your pulse. “I do so like it when you beg…” he mused thoughtfully, dragging his free hand away from the desk to grip the other side of your waist. You couldn’t see his dictation quill, but you heard the scratching of its tip against the parchment slow down some, and your heart skipped a beat as you contemplated whether or not he was finally giving in. “You make it incredibly difficult to focus on important matters, you know that?” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sudden feeling of Ominis’ teeth sinking into your neck stole the words from your throat. He bit fervently against your flesh, sucking a proprietary mark into your skin with a throaty hum, and your shaky moan reverberated off the walls and caused your lover’s cock to twitch enthusiastically inside of you. 

Ominis would be lying if he said teasing you this way was easy. On the contrary, when you had walked into his office to ask him to come to bed earlier, he naturally wanted to agree immediately and forgo finishing his report for the Ministry entirely. Denying you the first time was a necessary evil, but then you had come up behind him to wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he’d been made aware of the silk bathrobe you wore with presumably little underneath. That revelation had shattered the majority of his restraint, and he knew then and there that he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to a lick of his work after that. 

You’d been all too eager to take him up on his offer of warming his cock, but little did you know he’d made the suggestion more for himself than for you. Beyond the euphoric sensation of being sheathed in your clenching heat, Ominis relished in working you over the edge with little to no effort– and Merlin, had he succeeded. Your labored breathing in his ear for the past half hour was like the finest of music, and your breasts pressing against his clothed chest was as intoxicating as Firewhiskey. 

In truth, he hadn’t gotten much work done for the duration of time you’d been sitting in his lap; he didn’t need sight to know there was a series of meaningless scribbles in the corners of his report, put there entirely to play up his charade. Everything about you was that distracting, and he huffed out a sigh as his baser urges finally won out against his responsibilities. 

Ominis laved his tongue over the freshly bruised bit of skin, leaving crescent shaped marks on your hips as he held you tighter to ever-so-slightly grind up into you. The feeling had you gasping into the crook of his neck as your forehead fell against his shoulder, clinging to the fabric of his shirt as you allowed the blond to maneuver you however he pleased. 

It took every ounce of willpower in Ominis’ body to keep his voice low and controlled when he murmured, “I suppose you have been well behaved… a little needy, but that’s nothing new.” He pushed your hips back before steadily pulling them forward again, and his eyelids fluttered shut at the sheer bliss the friction offered him. “I’ll fuck you, but you have to wait to come until I say so. Understood?” 

The mere thought of having to wait a second longer for him to move had you nodding brainlessly into the crook of his shoulder, and you ardently wound your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you cautiously rocked against him. At this point, you were willing to promise him anything if it meant getting what you wanted. 

One of his hands left your waist to wind through your hair, and when he tightened his fingers around the strands to pull you away from him, you couldn’t stop the surprised yelp that tumbled from your parted lips. “Use your words, darling, or I’ll leave you waiting for another hour. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” you gasped breathlessly, forced to address the ceiling since Ominis’ hand in your hair had your head tilted back. “I understand, I won’t come until you tell me to. Please, Ominis, I promise–”

“That’ll do,” he cut you off quickly, releasing his hold against your scalp to grip your hips once more. His lithely muscled arms held you flush to him as he stood straight, and the legs of his chair scraped loudly against the floorboards as he kicked it away to give himself more space. In one swift motion, Ominis deposited you on top of the desk and firmly pushed you down so you were draped on your back across the oak surface, his cock still inside you. His clever fingers set to undo the buttons of his shirt as the hand against your sternum trailed lower to tease around your wet folds, and a keening sound resonated from deep in your chest as he grazed his thumb over your sensitive clit. 

Much like his shallow grinding earlier, it wasn’t enough. Your voice was airy when you asked, “C-Can I touch myself?” 

His hand stilled momentarily before retreating, and he nodded down at you with a coy smirk on his face. “You’re a good girl for asking, so yes. Remember your promise though.” 

Your hand flew off the table to rub tight circles against the hyper-sensitive nub, and the relief that washed over you then was tantamount to perfection. It was the stimulation you’d been after since straddling Ominis earlier, and your eyes jumped up to watch as the blond shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and dropped the attire unceremoniously to the floor. His eyes closed momentarily when the attention you bestowed upon yourself caused your walls to tighten around his cock, and a shameless moan ripped from his throat at the same time he leaned forward to brace his arms on either side of you. 

“Fuck– you’re greedy for it, aren’t you?” 

The clipped edge to Ominis’ voice betrayed just how much he wanted this too, and your breathy laugh filtered up to him as you teased, “Am I to believe you’re not?” 

Those milky blue eyes of his narrowed as he processed your remark, and your mouth dried up when his expression shifted into something far more domineering than before. He lifted one of his hands to run the appendage up your stomach, then your chest, before eventually settling against your throat, and your eyes widened when he squeezed gently to convey his feelings on the snide comment. 

“Are you sassing me right now? Bold words from the woman who beseeched me to take her on the desk. Just for that,” he started to say, reaching between the two of you to grasp the hand you’d been using on yourself, “no more of this. You’re mine to play with now, darling.”

In a flash, Ominis pinned your hand against the rough wood above your head, holding you firmly in place by the throat with the other. You whimpered pitifully, opening your mouth to stutter out a string of apologies before he forbade you from coming entirely, but a hurried thrust of his hips interrupted your efforts. The force in the action had your shoulder blades scraping deliciously against the desk, and you moaned wantonly as Ominis worked to set a brutal pace. 

He spread his legs to accommodate his low hanging trousers before pounding himself roughly into your tight cunt. “Calling me greedy when you’re the one under me getting fucked senseless,” he growled with a gruff tone, squeezing around your windpipe to pull you harder onto his cock as he plunged in and out of you without mercy. “You couldn’t wait– didn’t want to wait. You’re as demanding and needy as they come.” 

His head tipped back and sent strands of his blond hair across his forehead as he bucked desperately into your overwhelmingly slick walls, and after being sheathed in your tight heat for so long without moving, he felt himself growing closer to his release as you clenched tellingly around him. Ominis abandoned his hold on your throat as he bent over you, raking his nails down your chest to pinch one of your nipples into a stiff peak, and your back arched off the desk for all of two seconds before the imposing man jerked your head to the side by your hair to sink his teeth into your shoulder. 

“O-Ominis, fuck–” you cried out abruptly, the combined feeling of his bite and the slap of his hips against your ass enough to make you see stars. The fire that ignited in your blood had you flushing from head to toe as you frantically sought more stimulation from him, but the whispers of your earlier promise haunted the far reaches of your mind like a ghost. You bit your lip and writhed brainlessly underneath him, fighting your looming orgasm with every ounce of restraint you could muster up. It was easier said than done; between Ominis’ frantic pace, his possessive hold on your hair, and the guttural, animalistic sounds he was making, you wanted nothing more than to finally fall over the edge into white bliss. 

Ominis knew it too, but he wasn’t about to give you what you wanted without a little more effort on your part. 

Releasing your hair to loop his arm under your rounded spine, Ominis mouthed wetly down the column of your throat before breathing his request against your sweat-slick skin, “Tell me what you want, love. Say the words.”

“I-I want to come– please let me come, Ominis, please.” Your breathless noises grew louder as Ominis licked a broad stripe along your collarbone before kissing and sucking another love-bite right below your clavicle. When he suddenly hauled your waist against him and slammed his cock up into you, your eyes crossed as you gasped for air and let your head fall back against the desk. The blond buried the cacophony of sounds falling from his lips against your skin, groaning at the way you arched hard and tightened perfectly around his throbbing member, and your thighs trembled bonelessly on either side of him. 

All you could do was let Ominis hold you, giving yourself over to him completely as he fucked incoherent pleas from your swollen lips and chased his own pleasure. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your climax, and when your lover turned his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his pace quickened immeasurably further. His thick cock nailed you perfectly, each thrust he gave you pulling out almost entirely before he stuffed you full again, and the hand he didn’t have pinned to the desk flew up to grip his bicep as your body quaked with pleasure. 

It was too much to bear– you needed to come– almost as much as you needed to breathe. The overstimulating sensations were driving you insane, and when Ominis moaned long and loud next to your ear, you almost caved without permission. 

Almost. 

Ominis knew you were close. He could feel you fighting your finish as you writhed and angled your hips to meet his, and he could hear your cries of his name growing louder and louder until your voice was cracking on the end of your pleas of, “Please let me come, please Ominis– can I come?” He grazed his teeth up your throat towards your ear, and his fingers dug into the bones of your wrist as his grip turned irontight. The arm he had coiled around your waist followed suit, and after a few more hurried thrusts into you, Ominis acceded to your begging. 

“Come for me, darling,” he moaned directly beside your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me, let me feel you.” 

You didn’t even give him the chance to repeat himself. 

Arching clean off the desk, your breathing stopped entirely as you tensed in Ominis’ arms, and a strangled gasp caught in his throat when your sopping wet heat clamped down on his cock to seemingly suck him in deeper. His hand on your wrist fell away in an instant to slip between your flush bodies, and those nimble fingers sought out your clit with a practiced ease that sent your composure careening into oblivion. 

The added stimulation was damn near unbearable, but you had no way to escape his unrelenting hands as he held you through your climax. Your voice was a raspy, sinful melody in his ears, and Ominis knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Merlin, you feel so good, love. So perfect for me– I’m close–” 

“D-Don’t stop,” you stammered in between gasps, your nails clawing into the wood of the desk in a bid to find purchase. “Gods, don’t stop Ominis, cum inside– please, please–”

He was all too happy to oblige you. With a throaty groan, Ominis lowered you so you were laying across the desk once again, then slipped his hands under the bent crooks of your knees to push your legs against your chest. Still hyper-sensitive from your ebbing finish, the new angle allowed you to feel more of your lover’s cock inside of you as he began thrusting into you harder and faster. The blond’s head tipped back as he shamelessly moaned your name into the open air, and before long the sound was drowned out by the slapping of his hips against your ass as he pounded into you. 

With your thighs nearly pressed together, Ominis felt impossibly thicker as his manhood reached deeper. Everytime he pulled back, the blunt head of his cock rubbed past your sweet spot perfectly, and your toes curled as you gasped and moaned, your senses completely overwhelmed by the overstimulation. Ominis’ grip on your legs turned bruising as his pace grew rougher, steadily losing the fight to maintain his rhythm– especially when your hands flew from the desk to brainlessly claw at his forearms. 

“Fuck, darling– fuck,” he grit through his clenched teeth, and with one final thrust into your pulsing core, Ominis came with a husky cry of your name. His hands slid to the front of your legs to pull you back against his hips to better grind against your rear, milking every thick bit of cum from his twitching cock. Hot spurts of his seed painted your insides and brought you higher than before, and your nails dragged down his arms as you keened breathlessly beneath him, wriggling back into his shallow grinding the best you could. 

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, but realistically could only have been a handful of minutes. You blearily blinked up at Ominis when he released your thighs to brace his arms against the desk, his chest rising and falling as he sucked down deep, shaky breaths, and you brazenly wound your trembling legs around his waist to keep him exactly where he was. The wet sound of his load squelching out around his cock had him groaning unabashedly— not-so-secretly in love with the sordid noises your cunt made when it was filled to the brim with his cum— and your eyelids fluttered shut as streaks of the white fluid dripped down your ass onto the desk.

When he lifted his head to gaze down in your direction, your stomach flipped at the lustful glimmer in his hazy eyes, and his hands skirted across the oak surface beneath you in search of your face. You angled your head to the side to meet him halfway, and he followed his arm as he bent down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss that said more than words ever could. He still elected to speak, however, amusement lacing his tone as his fingers traced the outline of your jaw. 

“I suppose you’re feeling rather pleased with yourself right about now,” he murmured softly against your lips, gently rocking his hips against yours and smearing his sticky seed across your rear. Thus far he had made no move to pull out, but you weren’t about to start complaining. Your current arrangement was beyond preferable to the torturous waiting game you’d been playing with him earlier. 

You tried and failed to fight the smirk that stretched across your face, and you chuckled coyly under your breath. “What makes you say that?” 

Ominis’ eyes darkened when he pulled away, and his hands trailed higher up the desk to wind in your unruly hair once again as he gathered the strands in his fists. Your eyes widened and your breath halted as he inhaled deeply– as though he were committing your scent to memory– before he nudged his nose against yours and grinned wickedly. “Because now I have every intention of stretching this ‘break’ well into the morning,” he vowed, and the revelation had your heart soaring while your stomach simultaneously flipped on itself. “How many more times can I fill you before it gets to be too much… let’s find out, shall we?”

Swallowing around the lump in your throat, your hands splayed against his pale sternum as you cautiously asked, “Shouldn’t you sleep? You have work in the morning…”

“To hell with sleep,” Ominis tutted disapprovingly at you, tightening his hold against your scalp. “You started this after all. I’ll make sure you’re the farthest thing from lonely tonight, darling.” 

If the way his cock seemed to revive inside of you was any indication, you knew with the utmost certainty that he definitely wasn’t lying. You didn’t know whether to be excited or afraid as you realized exactly what it was you’d inadvertently signed yourself up for. 

Merlin’s balls— you were in for it now. 

[larcenywrites]

His Assistant

Dom!Tony Stark x sub!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ | Minors DNI | unprotected p in v sex | blowjob | cunnilingus | claiming/ownership kink | Sir kink | light bondage | choking | hair pulling | some degradation | some praise | possessiveness | jealousy | office sex | rough sex | she/her pronouns | afab reader | lots of porn with some plot

Word count: 4.5K

You could probably guess all the nasty thoughts behind that overly polite smile and charming façade. It was embarrassing, the image of you always haunting the front of his brain, and how he schemed nearly every day different ways to get a reaction from you or to get you close. He loved the way he could get you flustered when he purposefully let you catch him shirtless or when he occasionally guided you through a crowded building with a hand on your back or on your arm; or how tense you got when he brushed against you and he could hear your breath hitch; how supportive you were of him when he was having a bad day, and how he wished that sweet smile on your lips was pressed to his cheek instead. 

Or wrapped around his cock, just to help him feel a little extra better. 

After a couple of years of such tortuous feelings and playful chasing, saying he was starting to get antsy was an understatement. He almost felt silly about how quickly that spark of arousal would pluck at his spine when you walked into the room, and how he subtly tried to keep you around for more conversation even when he didn't need anything else and it was time for you to leave. He was a grown man and your boss, so he should have some better self-control! He doesn't even get this hot and bothered when he's actively reeling in a night's lay! 

No, it didn't start out like this. He was actually very professional at first! Well... there was a reason other than friendliness when he so quickly asked you to just call him by his name and not by 'Mr. Stark' (though chaos still internally ensued when you gave him an obedient yes, sir). Sure, he thought you were pretty and had a thought or two about what it might be like to have you under him, but he did that to everyone he met! He's naturally a flirtatious person without even intending for it to go anywhere, so it wasn't long before he succumbed to his amorous nature. You'd probably just shut him down anyway or get a bit flustered, he figured. 

What he wasn't expecting was for you to bite back, and things just sort of snowballed from there. Maybe it was simple fun at first, but he was pretty sure that the playful glint in your eye was anything but innocent fun. 

What made it even worse was that you just doing your job was enough to get him excited. You were his good, obedient little assistant who did whatever he asked, and you always did it good just for him. That was literally just your job that you did almost every single day, and it drove him up the wall. However, you weren't always so compliant, and sometimes that was a good thing! You did help keep him out of trouble here and there, but while he enjoyed you looking out for him, he also couldn't stand it! He always wants his way anyway, but you were telling him 'no'? 

It's fine! It's your job, remember? 

But it never stops him from trying to persuade you. A rush of power when you look away with a sigh and reluctantly agree, the burn of a challenge in his chest when you oh-so-calmly hold your ground. The game is exciting when he doesn't know which he's going to get each day, but frustrating that he doesn't get to reward you for it. 

Or put you in your place.

Though one lucky day for him (and for you), the usual pushback was a little too hard and far too inviting. 

Holding a stack of papers against your chest and rushing around that busy morning, you weren't pleased to find your troublesome boss lounging around at his desk with a shockingly business-related magazine. With your free hand, you gently tugged the periodical from his hands. 

"I was reading that, you know," Tony quipped before eyeing you up and down.

"You can catch up on your reading later," you rebuked, laying his light reading to the side and resting that rather hefty stack of, uh- legal documents in front of him. His attention never strayed as he watched you organize through yesterday's papers. "You-"

"Is that a new dress?" He interrupted you with the obviously more important thing occupying his mind. You finally turned to him with a sigh. Nothing but innocent interest stared back at you with the end of a pen smooshing at his bottom lip; and now that you had a good look, the tie that normally hung around his neck was undone and gracing around his shoulders with a button or two undone for added comfort. You tried not to stare. 

"It is, and it's not for you," you managed to tease before returning to your previous work without a second glance. Your lack of attention dampened his spirits. 

"Then who's it for?" There was genuine confusion in his voice, a furrow of his brow. You didn't have a date, did you? Who could possibly be better than him? Your answer was actually more terrifying. 

"The shareholder meeting you have in an hour," you informed him with an almost mocking cheeriness before turning to him for a moment. "Wanted to look nice." 

Tony stared at you, that cool and collected facade barely faltering aside from the obvious oh shit behind his eyes. It was the same time every year, twice a year. Yes, you've been reminding him almost every day for the past month. It was mostly you that did all the hard work anyway; all he had to do was show up and look pretty and (hopefully) already know most of what was on those graphs and in those surveys. You turned back to what you were doing when he opened his mouth, already knowing what to expect.

"Can you tell them I'm sick?" 

"No."

"Please?"

"No," you said a little sternly, patience wearing thin and still needing to set up the conference room. 

"But you do so much for me," he continued his plea, trying to sweet-talk his way out of it. 

"I let you get away with too much is what I do."

"Then what's one meeting?" He was standing beside you now, facing you with one hand planted on the desk and another hovering at your elbow. 

"One very important meeting," you said, distracted now, realizing that all those papers you had him sign yesterday were very out of order. 

"You can't talk your way out of this one," you interrupted him before he had another chance to talk. He looked at you like a hurt puppy. 

"I can't even try?"

"Tony-"

"Come on," he took a smoother tone now, and you could already picture that soft smile gracing his lips as you felt a gentle touch to your elbow. You turned to him again, noticing that quick pull of a smirk that knew he was winning now that he'd garnered your attention. Well, thought he was winning. 

"Even you don't get paid enough to deal with your angry shareholders." Your semi-serious joke was met with an amused huff. That hand on the desk mirrored the one on your forearm. 

"Then I can make sure you're well compensated," 

You looked away, trying to control the grin spreading across your cheeks, as well as the blush when he seemed to lean in ever so slightly at your reaction. 

"As big as your compensation might be," you started, pausing to fix an undone button or two before working on that burgundy tie. You could feel that hard stare as you ran your hand down the silky material, keeping it flat against him and plucking that gold fastener from the pocket of his shirt. "My job is to keep you in line," you finished quietly. You looked back up at him as you pinned his tie to his shirt, feeling his abs gently twitch under your palm. He glanced down at your hand still pressed into him. His jaw wasn't the only thing getting tight.

"Is that the only thing in your job description?" He tried to spur you on, that soft smile gone when those brown eyes flicked back to yours with an alluring invitation. 

"It won't even take that long," you reasoned, directing him back to the matter at hand as if you hadn't just started a fire. He finally sighed, looking away and head rolling to the side in physical reluctance. As much as he tried to sway you with his touch (and sometimes it worked), he could never resist yours. 

"Okay," he muttered, backing down and returning to his seat, probably upset that you weren't playing with him. In a way, it was disappointing, but today wasn't a good day to waste time fooling around. 

"Do you need anything else?" 

"No," he said bluntly, propped up with a hand on his cheek and no doubt pouting. 

"Okay," you replied quietly. Admittedly, you did feel a little bad, giving him one last apologetic smile that he didn't even see and taking those papers into your arms. "I'll go finish setting up." He nodded, only looking your way once your back was turned and already heading out the door.

You left. Without even stroking his victim card! And so nonchalantly after touching him more than you ever have before and looking up at him in that way that had his imagination running-

He huffed in frustration, but no one was around to hear it. And now he had about thirty-five minutes to mentally prepare for a meeting with people he barely even liked! 

So when he finally decided it was time to show up, there you were: smiling with said people, gracefully faking laughs, and he knew you were being eyed the wrong way. Whatever the guy next to him was talking about, Tony wasn't listening. Instead, watching your every move while some other asshole put a hand in the same place he had earlier to get your attention. He couldn't explain the burn in his chest seeing someone else touching you, and you were letting them! Listening so attentively and getting what they asked for and- he couldn't take it! 

He needed to remind you who you belonged to, or maybe he needed to reassure himself. He saw his window of opportunity when you gathered up an unused stack of papers and hurriedly left to what he hoped was his office. He slipped away, mere minutes away from doing his actual job for once, and was relieved to find you hastily storing things away behind his desk. 

 "Oh, did you forget something?" You asked, unaware of the turmoil floating toward you and worried that maybe you forgot something. Or assumed that his stony glare was simply him about to enter another complaint to the complaint box (you).

Neither was the case.

"I don't like when people touch my things," he said with a low rumble, fingers tapping restlessly on the desk as he brushed up against you. 

You didn't need any context clues when you looked up at that ravenous stare. He was talking about you, like some spoiled child with his favorite toy. And if he wanted to play...

"I don't remember applying for this job to be one of your 'things', Mr. Stark," you replied cautiously, finally looking up at him and unsure whether to regret your words. You could tell you piqued his interest, with an unsure glint in his eyes and an interested head tilt. "And I don't appreciate when they talk back." As if testing the waters, a hand tentatively gripped around your throat. He could feel your nervous gulp against his palm, the faint rush of your pulse beneath his thumb. He had you fragile within seconds. Your eyes couldn't decide where to look, flicking between that predatory gaze and his lips slightly parted in thought. "I fucking own you," he stated calmly, taking his time to observe the features of your face now that he had you close in his grasp. You couldn't help but want to rile him further. 

"Then maybe you should act like it." The stare that had been lingering on your lips looked back at you with malice. The fingers around your neck slid along your jaw, tilting your chin up at a slightly uncomfortable angle like you were an item on display; just for him to handle however he pleased. His jaw was grinding in frustration.

"I have a meeting to get to," he reminded himself, looking you up at down once more as if deciding what to do with you. You were disappointed when his hand left your chin, but excitement welled up in your belly when he instead whipped that dark tie from around his neck with a commanding "turn around." You'd be crazy not to comply (for a number of reasons), but you still hesitated to let him have you so vulnerable. 

One of those things far outweighed the other. You did as he asked. 

Calloused fingers took your hands, bringing them behind your back and delicately lacing that silky material around until it had your wrists tightly bound. Now you couldn't go around playing nice with other men. A shiver followed the palm sliding up your back, his grip quickly engulfing the back of your neck. There was a firm yet gentle pressure pushing at the top of your spine, urging you down. You didn't need to think twice, already weak in the knees and easily buckling under his touch. You were well aware of what was directly behind you as you kneeled before him. 

"Wait for me to get back, okay?" His question was an instruction, back to lifting your chin as he stood in front of you. You looked up at him through your lashes, tied up and on your knees. The sight had his blood rushing, but your meek "yes, Sir" had him restraining every muscle in his body from taking you right there. He cruelly backed away from you, without another word or touch, quickly heading back before he was missed with nothing but you haunting the front of his mind. 

What felt like an hour was really only twenty minutes. A tense, frustrating twenty minutes that had him racing back to you as soon as the important stuff was done. No time for any of that idle chit-chat when he had you so obediently waiting for him in the other room. The opening of the door caught your attention, but the sharp click of the lock had that wave of excitement bubbling up again. You looked up at him eagerly. 

No words needed to be exchanged. Your mouth was already watering as he worked oh-so-slowly removed his belt, the jingling chime of its buckle tapping along your spine. Had your hands been free, you would be tearing at that button and zipper, far too impatient for the sweet time he was taking. He carelessly kicked his shoes to the side. And then his pants. And finally those fitted black briefs that hadn't been so well-fitted for the past hour. The sight of him went straight to your already dripping pussy, watching him stalk towards you as he jerked himself off and still in that now slightly disheveled button-up (which was a little disappointing). You looked up at him with eyes that begged him for permission, and what looked back was probably anything but. But you were eager to finally take that pretty cock in your mouth; so close now that all you had to do was lean forward just a little more…

But an all too familiar hold on your chin stopped you. He was tantalizingly close, a glistening drip of precum taunting you. The pad of his thumb grazed over your bottom lip before giving him a new idea. 

His hand may have left your jaw, but it wasn't to give you permission. Instead, he swiped a thumb over his slit, gathering his dripping slick. You didn't have to think twice about parting your lips for him, letting him press the wet digit to your tongue. You nearly moaned at his salty taste invading your senses, sucking it from his thumb and earning a hissed-out fuck. He should have known his good little assistant wasn't so good after all. He quickly pulled away from you to instead nudge the hot tip of his cock to your lips, still stroking himself and groaning at your tongue swirling around his head. As soon as your lips wrapped around him, he stopped, threading his fingers through your hair instead with a hum of approval with the shallow bobbing of your head. You let him graze the back of your throat before teasingly pulling all the way back, languidly sucking the head of his cock in and out of your mouth with wet sounds that had his dick twitching and nails biting into your scalp. 

You gazed up at him again as you slowly made your way further down, but before you could have any chance to pull back again, he impatiently thrust into you. You nearly choked, not prepared to take him so far but the tightening of your throat he'd waited so long for felt too good to stop. 

"I know that smart mouth can take more," he snarked breathlessly, cupping your jaw with his free hand to keep you still while he face-fucked you. Even running out of oxygen and tears pricking behind your lashes, you couldn't help but hum out a strangled moan at letting him use you for his own pleasure. 

Your nose was pressed into the nicely trimmed hairs of his pubis, holding you there for a few seconds while he caught his breath and nearly pulling all the way out to let you catch yours. Only a few pitiful pants later and he was sliding down your throat again, only this time with a hitch in his hips. The throbbing twitch in your throat let you know he was close, but so did the fist gripping tighter in your hair and the badly restrained groans above you. You let out a whimperish moan when he roughly pulled your head back with a breaking trail of saliva still connecting you to him. He sloppily jerked himself off at your still parted lips, nudging back in to rest his tip on your flattened tongue when you caught on.

"I don't want you making a mess," he said lowly with gritted teeth. It was code for: swallow it all, and he would be watching. His strokes finally slowed when the first bittersweet spurts trickled down your tongue, working him through the rest of his climax while watching you obediently take that pool of white.

"That's my good girl." The hand on your crown came down to cup your face, thumb brushing affectionately over your cheek and wiping away a stray tear from earlier. You could help but to greedily lick over his slit one last time as he pulled away. You licked the leftover taste from your lips as he bent down to capture you with his own, his tongue lapping over yours and stealing what little breath you still had in a messy kiss. A sharp tug on your makeshift restraints ordered you to stand, and you reluctantly parted from him while he so kindly helped you up. 

Though, as soon as you were finally back on your feet, you were not-so-kindly pushed face down onto his desk, the hand holding your wrists against your back promised no mercy. The sight of you bent over his desk was already getting him hard again. It was a fantasy he'd jerked off to in this very office numerous times, and now you were going to give it to him. Your dress was delicately lifted, fingers playing with the wet spot on your panties before tearing them down your legs. The wooden edge of the desk dug into your hips as he lined you up, already feeling him pushing against your entrance. 

The searing stretch had your bound hands flying back to grab at him in a plea to slow down when he finally pushed into you, too eager to lay his claim and watch himself fill you out. The involuntary constriction of your walls had you squirming, trying to give him more room while he impatiently kept pushing further and acquainting you with every vein and ridge. There was no warning or waiting once he reached your end, nearly pulling all the way out before harshly thrusting back in. A hand clamped down on your neck, keeping you where he wanted while the quick pistoning of his hips drove your own into the edge of the desk, mixing more pain into your pleasure but you wanted him to leave his mark.

 He was ecstatic to hear the cry of his name on your lips and see your tied-up hands pressing against him. He was the only thought behind those glazed-over eyes and that's how it should be. Everything you did was for him, and he would make sure you remembered it. Those pornographic sounds he pulled from you got louder each time he bottomed out. 

"Moan like you're my fucking whore," he encouraged you loudly, taking note of the whimpered sigh that followed and the desperate arc of your back as you clenched around him. "Is that what you are? Just for me?" You were ready to answer him, but only a few panted-out moans left your lips. A smug amusement crept into his grin at knowing he had you too fucked-out to answer, but he wasn't going to let you off that easy. That bruising grip snaked its way into your hair, roughly pulling your head back. "I asked you a question," he growled through barred teeth.

"Yes, Sir~" you quickly corrected yourself. He must have been pleased with that apologetic cry, pushing you back into the smooth wood and pumping into you just a bit harder with his free hand grasping at the edge of the desk for leverage. A moan of his own finally left his lips, letting himself get just as lost as you for a moment. "Always so good for me," he panted, this time without that sneer. His words fueled the flame in your core, already so close to peaking with each strong snap of his hips that kept him deep and relentless inside you. 

Tony knew it, too. Your tight heat threatening to milk him for everything he had, and, fuck, that's exactly what he wanted you to do. You felt him place an affectionate kiss to your neck before resting his head against you, the fist in your hair leaving to join his other on your waist. But there were no nails biting into your skin or another grip trying to leave bruises. Hands caressed softly at your sides, lovingly even. It's just that you were taking him so well and letting him be so rough with you that he just had to drop his tough act to adore you a little. Though he never slowed and your legs ached, the sudden softness had you weaker than the roughness did. 

But you knew Mr. Stark always had you ask for his permission before doing anything.

"Sir, please-"

"It's okay, honey, you can cum for me," he softly panted, pleased that you were asking but far too impatient to test your limit right now. "You've already done such a good job." 

It all finally had you gushing around him, giving him your last bit of control while the desperate pistoning of his hips drove you way over your edge. Hot breath fanned down your neck, tongue flicking over your skin when he licked his lips before the pleasant sting of teeth bit into the crook of your neck. He quickly came with you, arms tightly circling your waist as he finally stilled. He didn't even ask, but he wasn't asking anyway; he was making you his- you were his. Besides, you couldn't find a good reason to protest against the hot cum pooling inside you. 

Your hands were flattened against his stomach with how he was pressed into you, letting you feel the slowing rhythm of his breath and the tenseness of his muscles underneath. It was a surprisingly calm end to all that pent-up aggression that already had you sore, and it caused an emptiness when he finally slipped out of you. There was a ruffling sound of clothes, and you'd be lying if you said that the soft jingle of his belt buckle didn't light another spark as you barely noticed him standing right behind you. You expected him to free you from your binds -hoping- but the mixed mess between your legs gave him a better idea. 

You jolted at the strong tongue circling at your entrance, eating you out even with his seed still dripping from you. The added prickle of his facial hair scratching along your sensitive flesh left behind a pleasurable burn, and he didn't care that you were squirming in overstimulation; in fact he wanted to make it worse, overexcited from finally getting to taste you and going straight for your swollen clit. You couldn't really escape, hips still trapped against the desk and the hands on your thighs begging you to stay. He was only satisfied when you were nearly sobbing his name, shakey legs trying to close him out, and once again cumming hard- only this time around nothing. You were given one last cheeky bite to your thigh before he decided to finally leave you be, but not before thoughtfully pulling your dress back down for you and untying you with a gentle kiss to both of your wrists marked with a faint red. Now that you weren't bound and pinned, you propped yourself up on the desk, arching your back in a satisfied stretch to ease the stiffness in spine, and some of that soreness in your lower belly. Tony watched you as he took his seat, already imagining your naked form stretching out in his bed tomorrow morning. 

As much as you would have preferred to lounge around a bit longer, the wooden desk wasn't very comfortable, and, unfortunately, you had a conference room to clean up and Tony had papers to sign. So, you reluctantly stood up, pretending your knees weren't wobbly. Admittedly, he was disappointed to see you back on your feet so soon as if nothing had happened, even if a little shakey. He'd have to find a way to fix that later. 

You surveyed the floor for a few seconds for your underwear before deciding he probably did something with them that you didn't want to ask about. Unbeknownst to you, that was what he used to clean your mess from his cock, but he would've kept them regardless. After sliding your shoes back on, you instinctively turned to him, fighting the urge to take his lips with yours when he looked up at you. Oh, the sin that hid behind those innocent eyes. There wasn't even a trace. You had to look away. "Do you need anything else?"

He smiled at your diligent servitude, relaxing into his chair with a hand on his cheek. He'd make sure to exploit that more later, too. 

"No, but I will need you back at the house when we're done."

[buddierecs]

established relationship buddie fics

all explicit rating - 18+ only!!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

take my hand and don't you ever let go by: sourwolfseblaine "buck takes care of eddie when he starts acting differently after a close call." word count: 4.2k important tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, soft!buddie, comfort sex, gentle sex, blow jobs, top!evan buckley, bottom!eddie diaz, anal sex, marriage proposal middle of the night (series) by: tawaifieddiediaz "buck and eddie take advantage of an empty house." word count: 15k important tags: Switch!buddie, shameless smut, anal sex, sex toys, rimming, praise kink, multiple orgasms, aftercare eat, praise, love by: brewrosemilk "in which eddie teaches himself to voice his desires without shame." word count: 109k important tags: porn with feelings, fluff, praise kink, degradation kink, rough sek, semi-public sex, impact play, future fic blue eyes and bare walls by: underhung_aura "buck and eddie are newlyweds and looking to paint their new bedroom. what ensues is the butting of heads, some arguing of both the fun and not fun variety, and desperate paint-filled sex on the floor." word count: 45k important tags: future fic, fluff, intimacy, married!buddie, hand jobs, frottage, spink kink, marking, pet names, praise kink, feminization ours to keep by: brewrosemilk "buck and eddie pass their single, shared brain-cell back and forth, trying to keep their relationship a secret." word count: 8.9k important tags: secret relationship, porn with feelings, fluff, blow jobs we don't need to play games like these (you won me long ago) by: withmeornotatall "five times buck was turned on by eddie's complete lack of rizz and the one time he realised what his new kink was for" word count: 10k important tags: 5+1 things, fluff, smut, developing relationship, roleplay, idiots in love

ever after by: elvensorceress "sweet morning sex after their first night together because they are so in love and soft for each other." word count: 7.8k important tags: morning sex, soft!buddie, boys in love, anal sex, oral sex, barebacking, top!eddie diaz, bottom!evan buckley, making love honey hold my hand, you like making me wait for it by: siblysleaves "buck and eddie spend a week on opposite shifts and then have very sappy sex about it" word count: 4.2k important tags: porn with feelings, morning sex, phone sex back in your arms where i belong by: smilingbuckley "after having spent a month in el paso helping taking care of abuela, eddie goes back home to his family and has a tearful reunion with the love of his life." word count: 2.6k important tags: emotional sex, tenderness, anal sex, top!eddie diaz, bottom!evan buckley, comfort, cuddling, sleepy kisses a phone call in late december by: brewrosemilk “i’m so fucking cold without you,” he admits, then - and he’s not only speaking metaphorically; the snow storm is raging outside, screaming around the corners of the house; the room is drafty, and somehow despite the sweat gathering at the base of his spine and his neck - he feels cold. He wants eddie. that’s all he wants. “me too,” eddie hums, though - immediately soothing the anxiety. “never again. never again, I promise,” he sighs." word count: 4.3k important tags: secret relationship, phone sex, fluff and smut, boys in love

general audience established relationship fics mature rating established relationships fics

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 5.3k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! mamaguro!reader, tipsy/drunk sex, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), pet names (mama), oral (f!receiving), postpartum/baby weight insecurities, implied safe word (not used, just mentioned)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ According to Gege, Mamaguro was what got Toji on the straight and narrow for a little while. I wanted to explore the thought a bit.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The familiar beeping of the keypad cuts through the droning static of the night, trilling crickets and passing cars, as Toji punches in the passcode. The little light seems to hesitate before flickering green and blinking its acquiescence to his presence. With a dull click of the motion sensor the entryway blooms with a stark wash of fluorescence bright enough to make him squint, eyes stinging after wasting hours in the dimness of some club. His pockets are lighter and his head is fuzzier for it, the taste of alcohol still burning on his tongue as he kicks off his shoes and pads deeper into the apartment. The entryway goes dark without him to trigger the automatic light and the hall offers no light to replace it but he’s familiar enough between these walls to find his way towards where he needs to be, stumbling only once as a toy finds its way underfoot, squeaking as he kicks it away. 

The room is illuminated by the faintest light leaking through the slightly parted curtains. The thread of faded yellow light slants across the bed, finding shapes in the darkness. The parted lips of his wife and the fluttering lashes of his son. He’s a tiny thing even after all these months–still a wisp of a person–but bigger than the last time Toji saw him. His face has started falling into place, fledgling features beginning to take shape. So strange that this little thing could look so much like him. Familiar black hair falls across his forehead like streaks of ink and his face is screwed up into a scowl even as he sleeps, legs kicking and arms twitching. 

Toji’s shadow cuts through the beam of light as he stands over his son in his nest of pillows–“to keep him from rolling,” he vaguely remembers you saying. Toji’s hands are rough, calloused and scarred, but he can’t deny the urge to touch his son. He presses a dimple into the baby’s cheek, and his skin is plump and warm like a dumpling beneath the pad of his father’s fingertip as he begins to stir in earnest at the disturbance. He stretches like a cat, grape-sized fists reaching out above his head before his eyes blink open with a yawn. Twin pairs of deep blue eyes meet in the darkness. Toji expects the tears that ensue as his son’s sleepy gaze lands on the hulking silhouette standing over the bed. At first it’s only the whisper of a sound, short garbled whimpers that slowly work up to a volume loud enough to wake you. The reaction is immediate, platitudes ready on your tongue even as your voice slurs with exhaustion. 

“What’s wrong, Megumi?” The raspy drawl of your voice is enough to soothe the baby’s tears as you sit up to hold him. It takes you so long to acknowledge Toji that he has to wonder if you’re purposefully ignoring him as you fret over the crying baby. A curt “welcome home” is all you can muster towards him as you dote on your son, shushing and cooing until his little whimpers turn into snores. The nursery is at the end of the hall–the farthest room from the front door at your insistence–and you shoulder past Toji to take Megumi to his room. He lets you, stepping aside because you’d never actually be able to move him even if you used all your strength. He’s as movable as a brick wall even if there’s a bit of alcohol numbing his reflexes and you know it. Knocking into him is as effective as a dog growling at a wolf. 

While you’re gone, he tosses the extra pillows to the floor along with his shirt. It’s laced with the scent of cigarettes and folded pride after spending the day whittling away his earnings on what were supposed to be sure things. Easy money made by taking low stakes bets that all unraveled one after the other. The money is wasted now and maybe he needs a fight, some kind of outlet, to expel the lingering frustration. He’s waiting for you at the foot of the bed when you return from putting Megumi down. Like a moth to a flame you come fluttering over to him looking to get burned. You stand between his spread legs and Toji can’t find it in himself to keep his hands off you. 

The tank top you wore to sleep is already rucked up your waist from sleeping and his thumbs find the exposed skin of your stomach, kneading against the new softness of your waist. It’s waning with each day as your body slowly reknits its shape after having Megumi but Toji finds himself somewhat enthralled with the lingering baby weight. You’re always quick to catch an attitude the moment he starts clinging around your extra weight. Smacking at his hands and telling him to leave you be like he cares if you’ve gotten bigger from carrying around his kid for nine months. It shows in your hips and your breasts, makes you look real good even when you moan about how long it’s taking for your body to “snap back.” It’s not like you’re a stretched rubber band to be shrinking once the tension’s gone but he keeps the thought to himself. It’s been made abundantly clear you’re not trying to hear his reassurances anytime you get to berating the body he loves so much. As if you aren’t everything he wants and more. 

“Missed you.” The words sting worse than the alcohol. It isn’t in him for Toji to be saying things like that often. But both of you already know he hates being away from you, and now Megumi, too. His hands tighten around your waist as you try to pull away, pulling you closer even as your feet drag until he can rest his face against the lingering roundness of your stomach. He got you like this. Everything about you in this moment, the tired drawl of your voice and the added softness of your body is all his doing and he’s damn proud of himself. His pretty little wife that suffers his erratic presence and pitiful parenting with little more than patient sighs. Sometimes you’re upset and he always deserves it but even when your face is lined taut with anger he can’t help but marvel about how lucky he is. Makes him want to straighten up, be better. Makes him want to do right by you like a proper husband should. You’ve given him all your time and energy. Your name and everything. It’s the least you deserve but here he is, face smushed happily into the soft warmth of your tummy as you card through his hair, waiting for an explanation for his absence. After all, he said he’d be home two days ago. 

Toji has been gone for nearly a month, having fed you some lies about freelancing on a construction contract a few prefectures over. It’s something simple, easy to swallow. Because he can’t very well tell you about what it is he really does to keep a roof over your head. It’s selfish, lying to you the way he does, but Toji has never claimed to be a particularly altruistic man. He’s selfish and greedy. Doesn’t want anything bad coming near his girl, tainting the charitable image of him she has in her mind. If you wise up too much you might up and leave him and then where would he be? Nah, he’ll keep telling you he’s out doing grunt work, manual labor. The type of strenuous work that pays well because you don’t need to know what it is the hands he touches you and your son with are truly capable of. 

“You mad at me?” He asks when you take too long to answer him. It’s not meant to sound so teasing, so mocking, but Toji is sardonic by nature and his tongue is plied with too many shots. It makes him sound like he’s trying to rile you up. And maybe he is. Hadn’t that been his original intention before you came back to him all soft and sweet, looking so perfectly tired. He shouldn’t push you but he wants to. It’s clear you’re exhausted but he’s wide awake and pumped full of liquor and audacity. It curls around him like armor, makes him want to poke and prod until you stoop to his level and entertain his excess energy. He needs something to help him work through the high of coming home to you. His teeth find a soft spot to land above your navel and you yelp out a sharp quit it! before smacking the back of his head as his tongue tastes the place his teeth had been. 

“What do I have to be mad about?” Comes your pragmatic answer as your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging at the roots to get his mouth away from you. It doesn’t work. He’s stronger than you, won’t move unless he wants to and what reason would he ever have to leave the soft warmth of your body? You smell so good in a way you probably hate. There’s no trace of perfume on your skin. No lingering scent of soap or detergent. You smell wholly like yourself. Like sweat and something sweet and it makes him want to taste every inch of your skin. You squirm as Toji pushes your shirt higher until it’s tucked up under the swollen weight of your breasts heavy with milk. 

“Nothin’.” Toji decides even though he’s sure there’s a thousand things you could be mad at him for. He was gone two days longer than he said he’d be and wasted one of those days blowing his money on spoiled bets. He was late and still had the audacity to come home far past midnight, in those dark hours that linger just before sunrise, after you’ve been dealing with a newborn all day. Yeah, you should be mad, but he’s glad you’re not. When he looks up there’s the faintest hint of annoyance lingering on your face, pinched between your brows and weighing at the counters of your mouth. It’s a pretty look on you as his eyes begin to adjust to the muted darkness. Mussed hair, tired bruises under your eyes, and disheveled clothes. It’s a look only he gets to see because you’d never leave the house looking like you’ve just gotten into a fight. But fuck if you don’t make it look so good. 

It’s enough to make Toji smile. Something mean and wanting as he stands to get in your face. He can hear it in your voice, that aloof attitude that you get whenever he’s in one of his moods. You’re trying your hardest not to rise to his prodding and it’s almost annoying how fucking perfect you are. The kind of woman that only exists in movies. The kind of woman that deserves more than him. But Toji won’t let anyone else have you. He made that decision a while ago. Marriage and a baby. A ball and chain to tether you to him. He watches the realization dawn on your face as he presses in until you’re nose to nose, a nervous “not tonight, Toji” whispering over his lips as you try to pull away from him again. He wants it to be tonight. And every night after. How can you be so perfect and expect him not to be panting after you like a dog every second of the day?

“Let me do it,” he asks, voice toeing the line of begging as his hands find your waist again. “Let me have it, mama.” Toji loves the way you squirm and pout and look away from him whenever he calls you that, like you aren’t the mother of his child. He kisses the corner of your mouth, a habit he picked up from you always pressing sweet little kisses to his scar. You fluster and shake your head, trying to pull out of his arms. He lets you just to see what you’ll do, frowning when you tug your shirt down over your stomach and go to lay back down. He watches you settle on top of the sheets, curling up on yourself like he won’t be able to see you if you make yourself small enough. Your breath comes too quickly for you to be sleeping, body lined with too much tension as you wrap yourself around his pillow like he’s not standing right here for you. His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling you loose from the ball you’ve curled yourself into. 

“The fuck are you hiding for?” Toji snaps as you try to fix your top after his pulling rolled it up your back again. He hears you whine his name, small and petulant like you have something to be embarrassed of. It takes a moment for the realization to click into place, for Toji to fully accept the idea that his pretty little wife might not be feeling so pretty after all. Toji isn’t big on manners, doesn’t wanna stoop to saying please and begging for what he wants but he just might with the way you’re acting. It’s clear you want it. He can tell by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together. You want it just as bad as he does and yet here you are, covering yourself with the sheets and murmuring about not yet. Toji’ll be the first to admit he hadn’t paid much attention to anything the doctors were going on about when you were laid up in the hospital, sweating and crying as you held Megumi for the first time, but he does vaguely remember being advised against sex for awhile. 

“Does it still hurt, mama?” He asks because he can’t be too sure you’ve fully healed from the ordeal of pushing a little person out of your body. When you shake your head and throw your arms over your eyes, Toji frowns. He’s been gone for three and a half weeks, hasn’t fucked you in just as many months, and yet here you are mumbling over excuses to keep your clothes on. Too tired, too late, Megumi might wake up again. As if he won’t do all the work to make you feel good. 

Toji can’t help but scoff. “What are you on about?” 

As if he hasn’t answered calls while he’s balls deep inside you. If his son wakes up he’ll go see what he needs and come back to finish what he started. You don’t even need to move. All you gotta do is lay back and spread your legs while he takes care of the rest. His fingers hook into the elastic of your waistband, keen on pulling those baggy pants off. He knows what to expect. Your thighs got thicker to match the new weight of your hips. He’s expecting the plushness as he wrestles the pants off your legs even as you weakly bat at his hands and whine about him waiting a minute. All it earns you is another bite to the softness of your thigh because why would he wait even a second more after he’s already waited this long. 

He’s nearly delirious with desire. There’s no more time for waiting and your pitiful little protests aren’t doing much to convince him that you actually want him to stop. You need this. Need your man to bully you out of your clothes and prove how much he’s missed seeing your body because clearly Toji’s words aren’t enough to get it through your thick skull just how gorgeous he thinks his wife is. But fuck do you look beautiful even in the darkness. He spares a second to turn on the bedside light, ignoring your feeble attempts at protest as the dim light washes over you. He watches you try to roll away, grasping at the sheets to cocoon yourself out of sight. 

“Stop fucking runnin’, mama. Lemme see my girl. Already said I missed you.” Toji groans as he grabs you by the waist, reveling in the way you squeak as he moves you where he wants. Little thing always thinking you can run from him like he won’t pull you back every time. He’s greedy, wants to keep you to himself. You’re his. His wife, mother of his son. His, his, his. And yet you’re acting like he’s exaggerating how desperately he wants you after so long. Maybe it’s the alcohol turning him mean, but he wants to prove himself beyond a shadow of a doubt in your mind. It’s all he ever wants. To prove himself worthy. He knows he not but it’s the least he can do to pretend that one day he might be. You just have to let him. 

He takes pity on you as you squirm, grasping for the edge of the sheets Toji’s already tossed out of reach. 

“S’okay, mama. I got you.” His hands pet over your hips, fingers playing at the edge of your panties. He wants them off of you, wants to get his mouth on your cunt ’cause he can clearly see the wet spot seeping between your legs. You’ve always loved how big he is, how easy it is for Toji to move you how he wants, and yet here you are trying to play at being bashful like you don’t want his head between your legs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you whine as he works you out of your panties and brings them up to his nose. Toji doesn’t miss the way you lift your hips to help. All this huffing and puffing when you want it just as bad. It makes him want to be nastier just to get under your skin, and just like he wants you to, you whine something about him being such a nasty weirdo as he tongues at the wet spot your pussy has left in your panties. The taste has his cock swelling in his pants, twitching to be inside you after months of only using his hand. It’s nearly painful the way his dick throbs at the sight of you spread underneath him. Wet and neglected as you try to tug your shirt down over your lap. Fuck, he’s glad he married you because Toji can’t stomach the thought of another man ever being in his place and getting to see you just like this. He hears the sound of your hand smacking his shoulder more than he feels it as you try to get him from between your legs. It doesn’t work, just makes him nip at your thigh again as he shoulders your legs apart and pushes your stretched shirt out of his way. 

Toji isn’t doing it for you when his tongue licks a broad stroke up your pussy but you sigh like he is before thinking better of it and going back to pulling at his hair, trying to get him from between your legs like anything could part him from your fat little cunt. The feeling prickles over his scalp and sings down his spine in a way that has his hips grinding against the bed. He’s not worried about you as he sucks your clit into his greedy mouth, tongue tracing the shape of his name over the sensitive bud. It’s his, you’re all his. 

He can barely hear you whining over the sound of how wet your cunt is in his mouth. “Toji, get up. M’gonna squish you, stop it!” You’re not saying anything important and he tightens your legs around his head, trying to drown in the warmth of your thighs smothering him. When you don’t get your way he feels the hand not gripping his hair pressing against his shoulder. Not trying to move him, but using his immovable nature to your advantage as you try to scoot up the bed. He doesn’t care until you get far enough that his mouth pops off your cunt. There’s a shining mess of spit and arousal strung between the two of you and he’s eager to make you even messier. An arm is tossed over your wiggling hips, heavy as a steel beam to keep you from running from his mouth again. 

“Stop movin’, lemme eat in peace.” He groans as his nose nuzzles against your clit while he tongues at your fluttering hole. His eyes watch you over the soft curve of your tummy. Your eyes are wet with tears as you whimper over the feeling of his hot tongue on your pussy. You’ve been suffering just as much as he has but you’re still acting like you don’t want him to fucking ruin you, like you don’t deserve it. You do. Of course, you do. Everything and more. He feels you relax into it, hand loosening to softer tugs in his hair as your lashes flutter and lips part. This is how he likes you, soft and happy. Quiet little moans filling the room as he makes a mess between your legs. He can feel you getting close as your pussy drools down his chin. Your thighs are tensing around his head, shaking in the way they always do when you’re close to cumming. It makes him laugh, and the deep sound sings through your pussy. It’s enough to push you over the edge. 

Finally, finally, you drop the shy act and pull his mouth closer, hips grinding against his face like you’re trying to mark him up with your wetness. He can feel it glossing over his cheeks and chin, smell it as he watches you ride his face. Two fingers find their way inside your fluttering walls, hooking against that sweet spot until you squeal and he gets to hush you like that’s not exactly what he wanted to hear. Because weren’t you the one worried about waking the baby? Now listen to you. This is what he wanted and you were being all stubborn acting like he couldn’t have it. It’s not until you’re running again that he eases up. He could keep going, keep eating you until you’re all out sobbing and shoving at him to get his greedy mouth and thick fingers away from your pussy, but he’ll be nice just this once. Toji sits back on his knees and watches you cringe at the sound his fingers make as they slip out of your soaked cunt. Webs of your arousal cling between his fingers and he makes a show of dragging his tongue between them like he’s still eating you out. 

“Felt good, huh?” He knows it did. You made such a big mess and you’re still dripping onto the sheets. Makes him eager to get you on his dick. It’s still straining in his pants, painfully hard from tasting you and hearing all your little noise. He gets up just long enough to strip off his pants, ignoring the mess he’s made just from getting his head between your legs. Toji eyes your shirt, still pulled defiantly low. 

“Take it off.” You grab at the hem, fiddling with nervous fingers. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” He amends. You mumble something that sounds like “don’t wanna” as you cling to the fabric like it’ll keep him off you. 

Toji scoffs, “You know what to say if you don’t want to.” He reminds you as he grabs at the collar of your shirt. It’s damp with sweat as is the rest of your body. You look shimmery in the low light, eyes glittering with tears as he works you out of that last piece of clothing with a quick jerk of his arms. The shirt doesn’t put up a fight, ripping like paper so he can shove it away from your chest. Your body comes spilling out without the tight fabric clinging to you. Tits swollen with milk and tummy still holding on to that last bit of baby weight. You look like a mother and it makes his balls tighten. His mama, his girl. He got you like this and fuck if he isn’t gonna enjoy it while it lasts. He’ll leave your tits alone only ’cause you’ve been complaining–and he’s happy to listen–about how sore breastfeeding is making you. You’ve gone up a couple cup sizes and your tits look gorgeous but he won’t bother them if it’ll hurt you. 

“Toji.” You’re pouting. He can hear it in your voice and see it in the way you’re squirming as he kneels over you, fisting his cock as he stares at your body. 

“What?” Right about now he doesn’t really care about what you’re whining about unless you’re gonna start begging for his cock. His free hand finds your waist again, kneading at the softness he finds there. So plush and warm. Fucking you like this is gonna feel like he’s fucking a cloud. He hears you muttering about being too big and tells you to shut up. 

“Don’t be fucking dumb. Acting like it’s the end of the world. Shut up and let me fuck you.” Usually he’d try to be more tactful with his words. It’s only right that you get to complain about how your body changed, but right now he really doesn’t want to hear it. You’re talking down on the body that’s driving him insane like you can’t see his cock twitching at the sight of you sprawled out beneath him. Toji tosses your thighs over his, pulling you up into the cradle of his lap, remembering only vaguely to shove a pillow under your back. You cover your face as he stares at your pussy, like he didn’t just get real up close and personal when he had her in his mouth. She’s still drooling real pretty for him as he ruts against you, wetting his dick with the mess you’re making. He feels your thighs jump every time the head of his cock catches against your clit. He pulls back the hood so he can really love on it, listening to the way you choke on your breath as he grinds over the sensitive little bud. 

“Gonna let me inside, mama?” Toji asks and you nod eagerly, hips bucking in his lap. Fuck. You’re cute when you stop worrying so damn much. Acting like he isn’t dying to get his dick inside you. He can feel you clenching as he presses in, pussy gripping him so good as he drags you down on his cock. You take it so well. Inch by inch you let him inside until you’ve swallowed him down to the base, already wetting his hips with your excitement. The clenching heat is enough to stun him and Toji has to hold you still with clenched teeth to keep you from milking him to the edge too soon. You’re already trying to ride him with little bucks of your hips, hiding a smile behind your hands as you lay back against the pillows and act like you weren’t just trying to keep him off you. 

“Not so shy now, huh?” Toji asks, squeezing at your thighs as he pulls back just to fill you up again with another deep stroke. You make a pretty little noise as he bottoms out, wet lips parting around a moan even as you try to catch it with your shaky hands. He’s got you good. You’re making enough noise for the both of you as Toji stirs up your insides, keeping you locked on his dick even when it starts to get too much for you. He can feel you trying to squirm away when he gets too deep inside you, hands grabbing at his wrists, trying to pry him off you. He’s mean about fucking you now, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit as you wail about it being too much. 

“S’not enough if you don’t cum, mama. Lemme feel it.” You’re already clenching so tight around him, pussy milking his cock like you want another baby. He’s lucky you’re on the pill because the way your body is rippling with every thrust is getting him weak. There’s no way he’d be able to pull out even if he can barely handle the one kid he’s already got. It feels too good to stop even when you’re trying to get away from the feeling of him spreading you open. 

Toji can’t help but laugh between his panting. “This is your dick, mama, stop running from it.” 

“Yeah, it’s mine.” You agree, tongue getting loose the closer you get to cumming. “Want it. Want you.” He can feel you tightening up as you babble about him being yours. Your thighs start to shake again, trying to knock shut even with his legs keeping you nice and open for him. 

“Get me wet, mama. I know you want to.” You cum hard, clit twitching under his thumb as you cream on his dick, getting him all sticky with your cum. Selfish as he is, Toji keeps you on his dick for a little while longer. Milking himself dry inside you while he keeps a quick pace on your clit. You’re crying and wailing–real loud like you don’t have a kid and neighbors–by the time he eases up on you. Your pussy is flushed and swollen around his cock when he pulls out. His dick is shiny with wetness, dragging out a mess with his softening cock. You’re leaking his cum in a frothy mess onto the sheets, pussy hot and twitching from how hard he fucked you. Toji can’t help but thumb through the mess, smearing the mix of your releases over your puffy pussy and circling your clit just to hear you whine about it being too much. So fucking pretty and all his. 

His hands rub at your thighs as he lets you off his lap, trying to work the soreness from your muscles while you catch your breath. He watches you relax as the fatigue slowly creeps back in. He kept you up far longer than he should’ve but it was worth it for the way you seem so content to let him rub on you. An hour ago you would’ve been batting his hands off of you and cowering like you didn’t want him to see you. Now you’re content to stretch out across the bed and let him squeeze anywhere he pleases. This is what he prefers. It’s his body you were berating anyway. You belong to him. You’re not allowed to act shy and be mean like he won’t remind you just how much you’re worth. He thinks about getting his mouth on you again as he watches you cuddle back up to his pillow and decides you won’t mind too much. He can taste himself leaking out of your pussy as he drags his tongue through your folds. You whine and shift but the hand you slip into his hair is gentle, letting him have his fun as long as he goes slow. He only parts from you when a sharp cry crackles through the speaker of the baby monitor. 

“I got him.” Toji says easily. You’re barely awake and it’s the least he can do after being gone for so long. “Go pee.” He reminds you as he slips back into his pants. You mumble something that might be an ���okay” as he goes to see what Megumi needs. The little spud is squirming in his crib, snotting and crying like he needs something but he quiets the second Toji picks him up. He doesn’t want his bottle, doesn’t need to be changed, he’s just making noise ’cause he woke up wanting attention. Toji is content to give it to him, walking around the nursery until Megumi falls asleep again. Toji holds him a little while longer, basking in the sweet scent that seems to cling to him. Like milk and lotion as he rests a hand on his son’s back. When he gets back to bed where you’ve already changed and fallen back to sleep, Toji considers a career change. 

[notiddygothgf]

World famous rock star Choso Kamo's new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him -- substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship.

(or; the one where an unstable musician meets an assistant with a savior complex).

❝I GOT A BRAND NEW PLACE, I THINK I'VE SEEN IT TWICE ALL YEAR. I CAN'T REMEMBER HOW IT LOOKS INSIDE, SO YOU CAN PICTURE HOW MY LIFE'S BEEN. I WENT FROM STARING AT THE SAME FOUR WALLS FOR TWENTY-ONE YEARS TO SEEING THE WHOLE WORLD IN JUST 12 MONTHS, BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG, I MIGHTA JUST FOUND GOD.

WELL, PROBABLY NOT, IF I KEEP MY HABITS UP AND PROBABLY NOT, IF I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH LOVIN'...PROBABLY NOT IF WE TAKE 'EM TO MY SPOT. PROBABLY NOT, IF I TWEAK ALL DAY JUST TO SLEEP AT NIGHT, GOD DAMN, I'M HIGH. MY DOCTOR TOLD ME TO STOP, AND HE GAVE ME SOMETHING TO POP. I MIX IT UP WITH SOME ADDERALLS AND I WAIT TO GET TO THE TOP.❝

╭─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╮

▷ prologue

▷ the interview

▷ behind the scenes

╰─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╯

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : jun 6, 2024

cover art credits: @/2OARIN on twitter

streaming... Kiss Land (The Weeknd).

cw/tags: rockstar!au, loosely based off of 'the idol', keyword very loosely... bc it sucked., slow burn, mutual pining, sassy reader, not really enemies to lovers but let's just say they drive eachother crazy. toxic relationship, but it gets better, mental instability, mental breakdowns, mentions of relapse (will include tw!), implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism, recreational drug use, implied/referenced drug addiction, HE GETS BETTER I SWEARRRR, eventual smut, sexual tension, explicit sexual content, oral sex, doggy style, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, questionable decisions just like all around, dark romance, reader is a little delusional (me too its ok), rough sex, rough kissing, rough angry sex, just read it it'll be a sexy and amazing time, choso my beloved you can do no wrong, except maybe in this particular fanfic, LISTEN TO KISS LAND BY THE WEEKND.

[lizzy019]

johnny cade nsfw hc? (confident version cause i feel like he wouldn't be as soft and 'baby uwu' as people make him to be)

𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒫𝒯 𝟤. 𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲!

NSFW HEADCANONS ARE UNDER THE CUT :D <3

✧ Johnny is a switch most of the time, but when he chooses to be dominant, he's either a sweet vanilla or a rough breeder. This man loves the thought of seeing a baby swell your womb :)) He'd be so good with kids.

✧ He has a kink for the 69 position, and typically wants you on top of his body no matter your weight. He likes that you both can share pleasure in this position, but he also like slapping your ass and feel you clench on his tongue.

✧ Johnny's aftercare consists of three core things; a shower, water with a light snack, and lots of cuddles. It's never overbearing, and it's like a small ritual every time you two finish.

✧ He puts his pleasure first when he gets needy, but he likes knowing you feel good too. Whether it be in a missionary position, lotus, doggy style, it doesn't matter to him. He just wants you to feel good while he feels good too.

✧ While a lot of people assume he'd be really sweet in bed, he definitely has a secret switch to where he can utterly degrade you to dirt, or pamper you so well you become spoiled.

✧ Condoms? Nah, just take some pregnancy pills. Johnny finds ecstasy in feeling your walls raw, kissing your cervix with his tip unsheathed.

✧ He's the type to have a kink for blindfolded sex, either you or him being blindfolded adds some mystery to the experience, and it allows for some more kinky things to ensue like taking the blindfold and tying your hands together.

✧ I feel like Johnny would purposely steal your bottle of lube and try to put his own semen into it. Like- he thinks it's so hot when you masturbate using his semen as a lube.

✧ Definitely steals your underwear.

[carlsdarling]

No Mercy Part II

This was requested a lot. The hate-love-story between Carl and Y/N, who is Negan's daughter, evolves... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly violent sex (consensual), angst, abusive language

During the following weeks you and Carl just couldn't stop doing two things: Fighting hatefully and fucking each other. It almost became a ritual. And the more violently you argued, the better the ensuing sex, which was always rough. After you spent an evening at Ron's to watch a movie with him and Enid, Carl was convinced that you had been drooling over Ron. "You were checking him out the whole time," he kept angrily accusing you as you headed home to Rick's house. "You probably want to fuck him."

"So what if I am? What's business is it of yours, Carl?" you snapped. "Maybe he's better than you? Not that it's that difficult."

By now you'd reached the house. Carl opened the door, roughly dragged you over the threshold and immediately pushed you into the pantry next to the kitchen, where he ripped off your jeans and panties, shoved you face-first against the wall and without foreplay penetrated you from behind, fucking you with hard thrusts. "Carl, yes, please," you whimpered, pressing against him as your head kept hitting the shelf above you.

He buried his face against your neck to silence his moans. "I've wanted to rail you all evening, but you presented yourself to Ron like a slut! How many times do I have to tell you that you're my personal fucking property?" snarled Carl, pounding even harder, aggressively rubbing your clit with his right hand. He covered your mouth to prevent the other people in the house from waking up as you cum and screamed out loud. " Do you see? See? You hate me, and every time you cum on me you beg for more," he gasped contentedly, enjoying his orgasm. His cum dripped onto the floor as he pulled out of you. Upstairs you continued, the whole night was filled with angry sex, and in the morning you both had quite a few bruises, hickeys and scratches to hide.

Subsequently, the situation between you began to change slowly and almost unnoticeably. You started sneaking into each other's room more and more often in the late evening and eventually having sex in bed. What was new was that you didn't always argue beforehand. Then a few times you found yourselves lying together afterwards, cuddling and exchanging caresses. Whenever you became aware of it, one of you would angrily stop it right there and start a fight, whereupon either you or Carl would storm out of the room and the old ways would be reinstated. You hated Carl, and he hated you, and sex was just a way of expressing that hatred and it had to be violent.

Then the day came when Carl went out with Rick and some others, but they returned without him. "Where's Carl?" you asked in a squeaky voice, looking all around for him.

Rick looked utterly distraught. "We lost him," he muttered.

You felt like you'd been thrown into ice water. "Is he... dead?" For some inexplicable reason, the thought of never seeing Carl again shocked you. Even more unbearable was the idea that he might have turned into a walker, soulless and distorted.

"We don't know, we were separated by a bunch of walkers. We need to get back out there now, with more people, and search for him." Rick ruffled his hair.

For the next few hours you couldn't think clearly, nervously pacing from room to room, and when you finally saw Rick and Michonne approaching the house with Carl between them, you felt sick with relief. Carl looked pale and exhausted, and he was completely sweaty, filthy, and stained with blood and other weird substances. "You stink," was the first thing you said to him, and you turned up your nose. „It’s disgusting.“

"Screw you," he said wearily.

You waited for Carl to go into the bathroom and entered ten minutes later when he turned off the shower. He was sitting on the toilet lid, and was busy patching up his numerous bruises. Hastily he adjusted his bandage to hide his missing eye from you; you had never seen it. "I really thought you got killed, Carl," you blurted out.

He stood up and met your gaze in the mirror. "You would have liked that, wouldn't you?" he asked with a sneer, but there was something else in his beautiful blue eye. The one he still had.

You quickly nodded. "You bet," you agreed with him. "Anyway - I'm disappointed you're still alive," you said venomously, and went to your room.

It wasn't long before Carl showed up to throw you on the bed recklessly and wanted to fuck you. You had hoped he would do so; your whole body was craving him, and eagerly you wrapped your arms around him.

But he stopped the attempt shortly after with his face wrenched in agony. There was a bloody Band-aid stuck to his stomach. "Carl, what is it?" you asked, startled. "Are you in pain?" Before he could stop you, you grabbed the Band-aid and loosened it. It wasn't a bite, just a nasty cut that looked infected. The wound was located just below the scar he already had when he had been shot back then and Hershel had saved his life.

"It's not that bad," Carl claimed, taking the Band-aid away from you and reapplying it to the wound.

"Yes, it is," you countered, "You need antibiotics."

"Why do you even care?" he asked dismissively, frowning.

"Oh, I don't," you promptly returned. "Go and do whatever you want. I couldn't care less how you feel. But you can't rail me in this state anyway, so you're useless, so piss off," you hissed, pushing him away and tossing a pillow at him. Carl gathered up his clothes, showed you his middle finger and left the room - but not without turning around once more, winking at you and mockingly throwing you a kiss. You shook your head with an annoyed grin and switched off the light.

Then everything happened very quickly. The next morning, Rick caught up with you in the hallway as you were about to go to the bathroom. Carl had taken some medicine - in the end, he had listened to you - and now he was fast asleep. "'Get your things together,'" Rick ordered. "You're leaving."

"But... why..."

"Your father's people captured Gabriel," Rick informed you angrily. "The Saviours have a hostage, we have a hostage. We'll trade you."

Stunned, you stuffed your few belongings into a bag, then Rick hustled you into the car and drove you to the main gate. "I'm sorry you didn't have a chance to say goodbye to Carl," Rick said.

"Carl and I hate each other," you said coldly. Rick looked at you with amusement, but made no comment.

After some mutual accusations and insults between him and Negan, you were handed over to your father at the same time Gabriel was walking towards the Alexandria gate. Before you realized it, you were sitting next to your father in the car, and you were on your way back to the Sanctuary.

Negan looked at you from the side. "Are you alright? Have these bastards done anything to you?"

"No, Rick treated me well," you said tersely. You had been caught completely unaware of what had happened. Ten minutes later, you felt the sourness of stomach acid filling your mouth. "Stop the car. Stop the car right now. I'm going to puke," you managed to say. Negan stopped the car, you yanked open the door just in time and vomited onto the asphalt.

"Are you sick?" your father inquired as he restarted the motor. "Maybe the fish from last night was rotten," you evaded the question.

(yessss there will be a part 3... tell me if you liked the plot development 🥰)

[greetingfromthedead]

Plantheat (Knives x F!Reader)

Plot: Knives calls on you, a scientist whose interests in him are beyond just scientific, to him with the offer to help him get rid of his undesired affliction plaguing him once a year. Ensues a power play and a lot of rutting.

Series: None (oneshot)

Pairing: Knives x F!Reader

Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI

Tags: no use of y/n, plantheat, rutting, pwp, smut, light BDSM, dom Knives, cum kink ig, vaginal fingering, blowjob, p in v sex, copious amount of cum, rough sex, aphrodisiac, some spanking, attempted brat taming, orgasm denial, orgasm control, orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, monster sex, feathered Knives

Word count: 5.8k

Author's Note: I swear, next time I get such dirty thoughts, I'll just go take a cold shower. This had to be heavily edited. And again... If you know me, no you don't.

You wonder what he could want from you. While working on different projects with the Sinners, you had close contact with Millions Knives, but you were just a lackey under Conrad's supervision. You barely ever talked to the Independent Plant outside your work; you only ever stole glances at the handsome man, your interest going beyond the scientific. But still, he acted like you weren't there at all. So what is going on now?

The request you received has brought you to a part of the Plant carrier you haven't been to before. To your limited knowledge, there should be some living quarters here, but as you cautiously explore, you realize that this area seems completely abandoned. Not a single living soul has crossed your path; the corridor is empty, with only your footsteps echoing off the metal walls. You double-check the room number next to the sliding door and confirm that this is indeed the place. An unassuming entryway far away from the commonly used areas.

"Come in," a familiar, cold voice calls from within before you even have a chance to knock.

You hesitate for a moment before pushing the button that would open the door. The room beyond is dimly lit but much larger than you expected. You step inside and scan over it quickly. It must have been a common area a long time ago for crew to sit together or used as a workroom, but now it is furnished as a living space. It has a table with chairs, a bed, and a vanity with a mirror hanging over it. It's not much, but it could be considered luxurious by many standards, especially if you take into account the quality and materials of the things in the room.

"You called for me, Master Knives?" you state as your eyes stop on who is probably the most dangerous man on the planet. The door closes behind you, leaving you completely alone with him and with no quick escape route.

"I did." He says as he starts coming closer. "You're an ambitious woman, and you have proven yourself both dependable and capable. How would you like a project of your own?"

"And what would that be?" you ask without hesitation as he stops in front of you. A strong, sweet smell stings your nose with every breath. It makes your stomach tingle.

"You see, once a year I am plagued by a very undesirable condition. I need to have something done about it. A cure if you will." His face is still stoic and unreadable.

His words remind you of a rumor you heard a while ago but paid no mind to. You look closer at his face in the dim light and realize he is paler than usual, and a shine appears on his skin. Your first instinct would be to guess that he has a fever, but the sickeningly sweet smell causing your belly to tighten hints at something else. Your eyes trail down his body to his crotch, where you notice a bulge that's usually not so prominently there.

"Master Knives, I'm a scientist, not a common whore. What are you asking of me?" You try to remain calm and steady, not letting on the desires building inside you. But the heat between your legs is undeniable.

"I am asking for the quickest fix to my predicament that you can offer." He leans closer, his fingertips tracing your jawline.

You turn your head, facing away from him, before you speak. "There's a pleasure district deep within the bowels of this city. I'm sure you will find a quick fix there. If you wanted me to create a cure, you should have given me more time. But as it stands, there's nothing I can do for you now."

"Isn't there? I didn't ask for a common whore. I asked for a brilliant scientist. One who has been keeping a very close eye on me for a while." His last words are accompanied by a slightly amused chuckle. "Aren't you curious?"

You look back at his face; your head is still mostly turned away. It is true that if the rumors of Plants being in heat are true, you are more than fascinated by that phenomenon. But even without him asking such lewdity from you, it would be a lie to say that you haven't imagined him naked before. The arousal in you makes it hard to think clearly, but you keep your guard forcefully up as you turn towards him again and lean closer.

"Scientifically speaking, I am."

"Of course. Nothing more to it." Knives says, his breath carrying more of the sweet scent to you, making your pussy clamp on nothing. His face is so close to yours, and his fingers are still touching your jaw. He is disarming in his beauty, and you lean closer, your lips parting, expecting him to meet you halfway. But he pulls back suddenly, a devilish smile playing on his lips.

"If that's how it's going to be, then I am leaving!" You sound more agitated than you intended as you try to step away from him. Knives grabs the small of your back and pulls you flush against him. Your arms are squeezed between your chests as you lean away.

"You will need to beg me for that kiss," he says with absolute neutrality and coldness on his face. You push against his chest, feeling your heart race faster.

"I don't beg!" You say angrily, and you see the hand that had traced down your neck go to his face. He traces his thumb over his mouth, only to then touch it to your lower lip. The dampness of his touch is barely there as you let your tongue swipe over where his thumb had been. The same sweetness strikes your senses, and you realize it's a powerful aphrodisiac. Even that little bit sends a shiver down your spine and makes your body ache for more. You want to feel his touch all over you. What would his kiss do to you?

His eyes darken with desire as he sees the realization on your face. You can't help but lean in closer, craving the inevitable rush of pleasure that awaits, but his face goes past yours. His lips find your neck, leaving toothy kisses behind, almost like threatening to rip your throat out or wanting to eat you alive. You shudder with a mixture of lust and excitement at his touch, his body pressing against yours.

You want to hold on to your pride and walk away, ignoring his dirty request, but his touch is too intoxicating, drawing you in further. Is it the desire you felt for him long before, or is it just the pheromones in the air? The answer is buried somewhere in the depths of your conflicted head. There is the curiosity too. This kind of opportunity does not present itself to everybody and every time. If he has you make a cure, then this might be your only chance to study it this closely. Your mind is so filled with thoughts and desires, you don't even fully realize how his hands run over your body, one gripping your ass tightly, the other pulling you closer, his mouth still firmly on your skin. It's your body that reacts, entangling your fingers in his hair and digging your nails into his shoulderblade as you let out a moan.

This man is wicked; you should walk away while you still can, but his touch is so delicious, and the bulge pressing against your leg promises a pleasure you can't resist. You know you should be cautious, but the temptation is too strong to ignore. You feel his fingers creep between your legs, pressing into the soft fabric of your pants. You want his lips on yours, his breath mingling with yours. You know it's wrong, but you can't help but give in to the desire. You don't resist in any way as he turns you around, his muscular arms wrapping around your torso, his lips touching behind your ear.

"Beg." Knives says quietly as his hand trails down, pressing into the supple flesh of your pussy through the fabrics. You feel the slick between your folds, and you're sure he can feel the wetness too.

"I have no reason to beg," you reply breathlessly, trying to keep your wits about you. It's not about denying him anymore; you're past the point of no return. Now you just want to keep some of your dignity about you while making as many observations for your research as possible. But the fog creeping into your head makes it hard. You take his hand from your bits and pull up the tunic with the other to slide his fingers into your underwear. A tremor of pleasure runs through you as he accepts your invitation. His body shifts slightly as he goes further down, his long fingers exploring your sopping lips with a slow and deliberate touch. He plays you like a virtuoso, his fingers circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure. You're in heaven as you lean backwards into him. He continues to tease and pleasure you, his free hand firmly kneading your breast. You feel his cock digging into you as you press further back, your hips involuntarily twitching at the sensation of his fingers. Your eyes roll back into your head as you are about to lose yourself in your ecstasy, but suddenly his fingers are gone. Instead, both of his hands grab your hips as he pushes you forward.

"What the?!" you studder out in your irritation as he makes you walk to the vanity. Your cunt aches with the denied orgasm and leaves you out of breath and desparate for the release.

His hands move to take the edge of your tunic and the longer sleeved shirt underneath; you don't fight him as he pulls them over your head, leaving you with your underwear. His fingers trace the outline of your body as he looks at your reflection in the mirror. You can feel his gaze burning into your skin as his fingers reach your pants. His hands push them down with your panties in tow, revealing your bare skin. You shiver, not because of the cold but because of the intense desire coursing through your body. Your inner thighs are wet, and you step out of the clothes, pushing off your shoes as you do so.

"Get on the bench and spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and husky.

You couldn't help but obey him, putting one knee after the other on the cushion and parting your legs as he instructed. You lean your elbows on the vanity before you and look into the mirror to see him step just a bit to the side of you. His hand glides up your thigh, teasingly close to where you need him most. Your breath is shaky as you anticipate his next move. His eyes stay on yours as his hand glides over your pussy, fingers running through the slick and sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His touch is like fire, igniting a passion that consumes you completely. He teases with a gentle touch alone before delving deeper, his fingers circling your entrance. You arch your back, yearning for more.

"Beg. I know you want more. I can feel it. You're dripping."

"Go to hell." You say accompanied by a moan as he brushes through your pussy again.

"I'm already there." Knives replies and plunges a finger inside you. It is quickly followed by another as he begins to move them in and out, fulfilling your desire for more. His other hand slaps you hard on the ass, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His hooked fingers tease every sensitive spot inside you, bringing you closer to the brink of ecstasy you were denied before.

"Do you think I am stupid?" you manage to formulate between your heavy breaths.

"Not at all." His one hand continues to pump into you while the other presses on your lower back, making you stick your ass up more. "In fact, I think quite the opposite."

"Then why do you think I don't realize what you're doing?" You struggle to keep your eyes open to look at his reflection while he keeps you on the edge. "You're smitten with me. That's why you called for me, and now you tell yourself you need to play this game of power to keep up appearances. You want me to beg for it because you don't want to admit that you desire me, a mere human. Admit it."

The end of your speech is nearly swallowed up by another moan, as Knives never stopped fingering your cunt, masterfully keeping you on the edge of bliss where you want nothing more than release. You are desparate for him; you want him all over your body; you want to unwrap that cock of his and feel him inside you until you both explode in ecstasy. Is that your desire or the pheromones? You still don't quite know, but the sweet smell is maddening as the coil within you tightens further.

"Almost." Knives speaks calmly as his free hand pulls on your hair. "I want you to want it."

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering in frustration as he releases you. You ache for more, desperate for release. You're about to finish the job yourself when you fully realize what he meant. He gave you a small taste of the aphrodisiac; any more of it will turn your brain into a horny mush. But that sounds great right about now.

You look into his eyes a moment longer, feeling your juices drip down your thighs. You can't help but smile mischievously as you teasingly step off the stool and turn to face Knives. You can't quite read his expression, but now you can see the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, and he looks worse than before. He is in heat, yet he teases you with nothing in return. You step closer to him.

"You really should be the one begging me." You grab his face and pull him towards yourself, taking him in a moment of surprise. You kiss him, tasting the sweetness on his lips. It quickly turns deeper and more desperate as you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment. You want more of the sweetness, and he wants more of you.

You need him. You need him to fuck the life out of you. You need him to fill you to the brim. That's all that's left in your head. Please him. Make him happy; make him come again and again. Be his plaything, anything he desires. To be used by him is your purpose, and you crave it more than anything else in the world.

His lips rip from yours and whisper into your ear, "Go play by yourself for a moment, but don't you dare come. Be a good girl."

"Yes, Master Knives." You moan softly into his ear as you step backwards to sit on the stool, leaning your back against the edge of the vanity as you teasingly run your hands over your legs before spreading them apart, revealing your core for him to marvel at. The room is silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing and your fingers stroking your pussy, occasionally giving it little wet slaps. Your head lulls back as you moan at your own touch, the pleasure building with each movement as he has already made you overly sensitive. You can feel yourself on the brink of an intense orgasm, but deny it to yourself, as Knives requested. You need to hold off until he gives it to you, and you would do anything to make him happy.

The air is filled with your moans and the intense, sweet smell of Plant pheromones. The desire for the fingers in your cunt to be his cock instead is unbearable. You arch your back, widening the gap between your knees further. If he doesn't make a move soon, you might just have to take matters into your own hands. Your voice gets whinier and more pleading as you edge yourself, finally having to take your hand away and grip the edge of the stool so you wouldn't come.

"Master Knives," you plead with your head still rolled back. That's when you hear steps. You look to see him in all his glory before you. His wide shoulders and broad chest, his pale skin tight over his toned muscles, and the cock of a god erect right in front of you.

Your hand reaches out to touch him, to stroke the legth of him, but he grabs your wrist instead, pulling you up to your feet and, from there, into his arms like it were nothing. His embrace is firm as he holds you off the ground, one arm under your back, the other holding your thighs. You take the opportunity to grab his face and kiss him again, your tongues sweeping against each other, spreading the sweet taste. You feel his fingers digging into your flesh as he turns and walks forward, not breaking away from you. The world around you fades away as you are consumed by the intensity of the moment. His movements are a lot rougher as he kicks away a chair before putting you on the table. You're on your side, facing away from him, but as you try to adjust, his large hand presses into your hip. You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. You lick your lips for the remnants of his saliva as he hungrily measures your body. His eyes are full of desire, and as his fingers grip your hip tighter, he takes his cock to gide it through your wet folds. He picks up some of the slick and smears it together with his pre-cum on himself with slow jerking motions. The anticipation of what's to come is almost intolerable, and you bite down on your lip. He slides the tip between your lips, causing you to gasp with pleasure. You're so wet, he simply slides into you with ease as you stretch to his girth. You're overwhelmed with a mixture of pleasure and pain, feeling completely consumed by him. His expression is almost animalistic as he grabs your hip with both hands and pulls you into him with every rough thrust, causing you to quake in ecstasy. He is unable to hold back anymore while surrounded by your tight cunt. The pace of his slamming into you is relentless. You moan loudly with pleasure and pain as he ruts into you with wild abandon, completely consumed by the pleasure. Your body trembles with each powerful thrust as the intense sensation of friction threatens to bring tears to your eyes.

Knives's moans and groans are music to your ears; he shakes your whole body and the table with it as his cock moves in and out of you. You're so wet from your arousal, each thrust makes a sopping slap against your skin. He lays into you, balls deep, and the denied orgasms combine into one with his motions. Your voice goes higher, moans escaping you with every breath as he pushes you over the edge of climax. You can feel the tension building inside you until, finally, the coil snaps and you explode with pleasure. You are left panting as he keeps the same rhythmic pace, prolonging the euphoria. Your walls clamp down around him like a pulse, and it makes him bare his teeth. His pace hastens further, and it completely breaks the coil within you. You moan out together as another orgasm washes over you before you could even come down from the first. Your pussy brings him momentary bliss as he busts inside you, filling you with warm seed. He looks so desparate as he pumps into you a few more times. He grabs your face with one of his hands, like wanting to pull you closer, but that's not an option in your current position without folding you unnaturally. You place your hand on his arm, feeling a strange prickling under your touch as you stroke upward to take his wrist and adjust his hand so you could suck on his finger that still tastes of you. You moan as you move your lips up and down his finger. The satisfaction has disappeared again. You want more. More of him all over you, more pleasure for him. The aphrodisiac drives you crazy; you crave its taste in your mouth. You can't resist the desire to have him inside you.

He pulls out of you, still as hard as before, and you spill over. He takes his hand from your grip and pushes you further onto the table before pulling you onto your back. You're surprised by his rough handling of your body, but ultimately feel excitement to be used. He pulls your shoulders to the edge of the table so you are left looking up at him, but only as long as you keep your neck stiff as your head hangs off the edge. A wicked grip appears on your face as you realize his intentions.

You let your head fall back and tangle over the edge. One of his hands grabs hold of your head, supporting the weight and making it easier on your neck. Or perhaps he did it to keep you in place. You aren't sure, and you don't care as your hand reaches over to grab his cock. You squeeze him, feeling the heat and hardness in your palm, and it sends another wave of pleasure through your body, your pussy clenching tight, some more of his cum spilling out.

You jerk him a few times before being unable to resist and taking him into your mouth. It tastes sweet like his kiss, and you enjoy the feeling of him throbbing against your tongue as you struggle to take him deeper. Your jaw hurts to open so wide, and tears spill into your eyes as he pushes further into your throat. You feel a mix of pleasure and discomfort as he thrusts deeper, your gag reflex kicking in, but you push through it, wanting to please him. The sounds of his moans and heavy breathing only fuel your desire to continue. You lift your lower body up to make the angle easier on him as he slowly thrusts into you as far as he can. His hand pushes aside your bra to squeeze your breasts, which bounce with each of his shallow strokes. Your body quivers with pleasure, happy to serve him even as the moans occasionally turn into wimpers. You can feel his impatience through his fingers, which put more pressure on your hair and flesh. He pulls away, strands of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock before the release of pressure makes you cough. As his hands let go of you, the panic within you raises. Quickly, you turn to be on your hands and knees and crawl closer.

"Master, I will do better. Let me do better." You plead as you look into his irritated face, the aphrodisiac coursing through your blood. "I promise I will try harder. I will suck you dry if you let me try again. Please let me; I beg of you."

"Get up," he says shortly, and you take it as a sign of hope, quickly getting your feet on the floor again and going closer to him. "I need your cunt to satisfy me."

"Yes! Master Knives, anything! As long as I can be of use to you, I will do whatever you command; just bless me with your seed, please." You are nearly breathless as you reach out your hand to run over his body. He is sweaty, and his skin feels strange—not at all smooth, but rough and bumpy.

"Stop wasting my time." He says it in a low voice. It's not the conserved and cold voice that could speak of violence like others talk about the weather. He sounds on edge, with no guard beside his words themselves to speak of. It moves through your body like the growl of a stray dog.

You pull your hand away from him, eyes scanning over the room, and go to the bed while pulling off your bra, leaving you naked as you stand by the bedpost, fingers running over the ribs of it. He is dissatisfied with you. This is unacceptable. You take a wide stance a few steps from the post and lean forward, holding on to the furniture as your ass sticks out.

"Then punish me or take what you want. Fuck me or snap my neck, Master Knives. Whatever pleases you." You tremble as you wait for his response, hoping he would choose pleasure over death but not minding either if it means he is satisfied.

"To think you made this worse," his low voice says as you hear him approach. You feel a sharp pain as his hand slaps your ass and then again, making you whimper and grab the bedpost tighter. Expecting more rough spanks, you brace yourself for what's to come, but instead feel his length rub between your legs, savoring the wetness before he enters you. His large hands grab your hips tightly as he pulls you closer, driving himself deeper inside you.

"Yes! Thank you!" You moan in pleasure, feeling every inch of him filling you up. His pace quickens, with each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can't help but arch your back, meeting his movements with equal intensity, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Your hands grip the post as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. The room fills with the sounds of your shared passion, creating a symphony of desire that echoes off the walls. His grunts still sound impatient as he ruts into you again, your walls clamping down on him with each thrust.

You rock on your feet while he pulls you roughly into himself time and time again. Holding on to the bedpost is the only thing keeping you in place; otherwise, his thrusts might just throw you off balance onto the floor. You try to keep up with his pace, feeling the intensity building inside you with each movement. He slams into you with all his length, and you can't help but moan in pleasure and pain as he grinds into the end of your well. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you to meet his movements with equal force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, heightening the raw passion between you both. The fog clouding your senses gets thicker until there is nothing left of you but your pussy that he ruts into, an electric tingling feeling creeping up your guts. He releases before you, and your sense of self only slips further out of reach. The feeling of having him come into you again fills you with bliss, even without reaching your climax.

He does not slow down, continuing to push deeper and harder. His primal desire drives him to take you to the edge of pleasure, his movements becoming more urgent and intense. The overwhelming sensation of being completely consumed by him leaves you breathless and craving more. You reach one hand down your body to your pussy, feeling the mix of your juices and his cum under your palm. It drips down your thighs and over to your stomach. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied moan, feeling completely lost in the moment as your fingers rub your clit. His powerful thrusts hit all the right spots while you touch yourself, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. The intense pleasure builds and builds until you can't hold back any longer, finally succumbing to a mind-blowing orgasm. The pulsing walls of your cunt send him over the edge again, and you feel a wave of ecstasy wash over you, leading you both into a state of pure euphoria. The connection between your bodies intensifies, leaving you both lost in the moment of raw passion and desire.

You have to grab hold of the bedpost again as his movements become even more intense, bouncing your whole body with each thrust. Your breath hitches in your throat, and the feeling of ecstasy overwhelms you completely as the bliss of his releases and your own orgasms mix into an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure that leaves you breathless. The intensity of the moment lingers as his primal groans fill the room, echoing in your ears and sending shivers down your spine. Your legs shake as he does not stop. Your body quivers in ecstasy, moans turning into wimpers as the overwhelming feelings of pleasure and arousal turn into torture. Tears well in your eyes as he shows no sign of mercy. You look down to your feet to see the creamy puddle on the floor, more liquid dripping down with each of his thrusts.

Somewhere in a far corner of your mind there is the fleeting thought of needing to pay attention and take notes for your research, but those are quickly erased as your whole belly tingles. He has pumped you so full that it feels like you might burst. Your mind is too foggy to tell if he is chased by one orgasm after the other or if he has gone past that need and is able to bust just with each thrust of his relentless hips.

"Master Knives, please!" You beg, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper as he pounds into you with an intensity that threatens to break you in two. Instead of a reply, he hits you with a quick, sharp slap on your ass. "Master, I can't take it anymore! Please! I'll burst!"

The whimpers in your throat cut off any other words as another intense orgasm washes over your being, your overstimulated body pulsing with pleasure and the need to escape the pressure building within. Unable to wait for his mercy, you lean forward, pulling away from him until his cock is no longer inside you. With a yelp of pleasure, you hear his cum splatter on the ground as it escapes you in bursts. You sigh in relief; the tension is finally released, but the low noise, sounding like a growl behind you, snaps you out of the bliss, and you turn around quickly. A monstrosity stands there, staring at you with hungry eyes. It takes a moment to realize the figure is your master; his chest and shoulders are covered in small feathers, and from his back stretch out large wings. From a quick glance, there seem to be at least two pairs of feathery extremities, but your attention is drawn back to his face, where his lips bare his teeth, the fangs glistening in the dim light of the room. His skin is even paler and sweatier than before.

For a moment, pure fear grasps your heart, and you nearly slip as you back away, quickly hitting the bed. You stumble and fall on the mattress, eyes wide with terror, as you push yourself further onto it to get away. The fear is quickly dulled by fascination and desire as your mind settles. Knives steps closer, his knees leaning on the bed, as he looks like a feral beast hunting his prey. The large wings brush against the bedposts as he leans closer. Instinct forces you to maneuver further away, but as you're ready to push away with your feet, his long fingers capture your ankles to yank you closer. He lunges forward with the same motion, and you find yourself pinned underneath his massive figure. His hot breath on your face fills your nose with the sweet smell that makes your head spin with desire. Your legs spread to either side of him as you feel his weight pressing down on you. Knives's lips crash on yours, sweeping you away into a world of passion and ecstasy again. His tongue swipes through your mouth, and you revel in the sweetness of the aphrodisiac. Your bodies are entangled in a tango of lust as you feel him adjust to press his cock back into you. The pleasure intensifies, sending you spiraling into a whirlwind of desire. One of his hands cups your cheek, the tips of his fingers digging into your temple as his lips dance with yours. His other hand traces up your side as his hips rock against yours, creating a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. Your arms wrap around him, and your hands feel the roughness of his skin where the soft feathers grow out. You close your eyes, lost in the intoxicating sensation of his touch, and your hands find their way up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he thrusts into you. You finally grab the bases of his wings, gripping tightly as you ride the euphoric wave of pleasure and moan into his open mouth.

The frantic beast lets out a primal growl, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate as he loses himself in the heat of the moment. The connection between you two intensifies, sending shivers down your spine as you both reach the peak of ecstasy together. It's like you're constantly on edge of release with him, the aphrodisiac in control of every nerve in your body. You never want this feeling to end.

You release one hand to try and push yourself up, and to your surprise, Knives complies. His lips leave yours as he sits up more, pulling you with him until you're straddling his hips, never breaking eye contact while your bodies remain connected by his cock in you. He moves his hands down to grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as you ride him. His hands slamming you down harder onto him, the intensity of the pleasure building with each thrust. The feral look in his eyes dissipates, replaced by a different wildness, showing how much he is enjoying the moment. Your hands are propped on his shoulders, digging into the layer of feathers that cover his skin. His hungry mouth finds your neck again, and you can't help but moan as your head rolls back. Your breath hitches in your throat as he continues to ravage you with his passion.

You take him to a world of relief in many ways, in many positions, letting him rut out his frustrations and needs into you even as all you manage in your exhaustion is to lay beneath him and let him have his way with you. He leaves your body aching and spent, with a lingering yearning you know nobody but him can satisfy.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST (most of my other stuff is a lot more tame, except for the Vash Plantheat oneshot) and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

[dethtallica]

RAAHHHHHH I NEED HETRICH AKA LARS AND JAMES HAVING A ROUGH SEX 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️ ID LOVE TO SEE JAMES DOMINATE LARS 🔥🔥🔥💜 THANK YOUUU THO

CAUGHT

1989

CW - make-up sex, come in pants, kirk being a creep lmao, tipsy sex

“Christ, James, do you ever shut the hell up?”

Another night of drinking, another night of arguments. Clockwork. Typical. Whatever. Kirk could deal with the shouting on the other side of the hotel wall. He could deal with James’ drunken antics, Lars’ bossiness, the drunk screaming matches… It seemed like everyday was a repeat of the same old structure— play, drink until you’re shitfaced and vomiting, sleep until 1pm, repeat.

He could deal with it, really. Kirk was just tired of it. That’s all. Just a few more minutes, then they’ll get tired and fall asleep, giving Kirk some peace and quiet.

That’s what he kept telling himself all night.

It wasn’t until an ungodly hour of the night which Kirk can’t recall that something changed. Yelling that turned into screaming turned back into yelling which turned into something, well, a little more interesting.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, asshole?”

”I’ll fucking show ya-“

A yelp, and then it was quiet. Nothing except a few inexplicable shifting noises. A silence too different to ignore. Kirk turns his head to check if Jason has stirred in his sleep to the sudden change of noise, but Jason is sleeping soundly with no signs of anything but being in a deep sleep. Kirk stares at him, making a mental note on how lucky he is for being able to sleep through commotion on the other side of the wall.

It only took that short amount of time for the silence to dissipate. Odd shifting sounds turned into small, desperate noises from what Kirk could only assume is Lars on the other side of the room. Intrigued, Kirk removes his gaze from the sleeping boy beside him and eyes the wall. He wonders what he would see if the wall was gone.

The truth is, he’d see something he’d really like. James hovering over a red-faced Lars, whispering dirty words into his ear as his hand slowly traces down the dane’s small body and down to his tight jeans. James would slowly palm his lover before biting down on his neck, making Lars audibly moan. A *clink* of a belt echoes and it doesn’t take long after that for more breathy noises of pleasure to come dribbling out James’ mouth after. Something that could only be described as incredibly arousing.

Kirk sat up quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed before stilling himself to make as less noise as possible. The moans should’ve been his sign to tell himself “Well, I know where this is going now. I should find my earplugs and try to get some sleep.”

But, of course, his curiosity forces him to sneakily eavesdrop on the hot n’ bothered couple— but is it really eavesdropping if they’re being so loud? It doesn’t matter. Kirk’s taken out of his thoughts when he hears an especially loud noise from his friend followed by an incredibly erotic sentence.

“O-oh! Yeah, fuck- put me in my place, James..”

Good god, does he have any shame?

Kirk criticizes him mentally. What Kirk doesn’t take into consideration is that he, too, is shameful when he’s moving to press his ear against the wall to hear more of his friend’s girlish moans and demands. Sure enough, he’s able to hear what his bandmates are up to very clearly. The black haired boy lets out a shallow breath and leans against the wall, screwing his eyes shut while he imagines the two desperately grinding against one another. His mind wandered all over the place. Was James usually on the bottom? Did Lars get on his knees for James often? Was he going to do that next? All unanswered.

Dirty talk and unidentifiable wet noises ensue until a particular obnoxious squelch sound emits from the room.

Lube. Must be lube. They’re about to have sex.

The shy guitarist gulps and finds that he’s slowly becoming stiff in his pants. Guilt washes over him like a tidal wave. He’s really getting a hard-on over his bandmates having sex.. he curses himself. Tells himself he’s a creep, that he shouldn’t be enjoying listening to the couple’s erotic noises. That doesn’t stop him from his legs taking him to the door of his hotel room and placing his hand on the knob, ready to exit the room.

I can’t believe I’m doing this..

It’s already too late to talk himself out of it. Kirk creeps out of the room, leaving Jason alone in the bed. From the empty hallway he can still hear the couple. Except now the groans no longer come from foreplay. The groans turn into squeals and pleads and now there’s a new sound— a bed squeaking.

Kirk’s heart jumps at the realization. Lars and James were having sex. All the way sex. Kirk looks down at the hotel carpet, feeling his cock throb slightly in his pants. He wants to peek so badly. Just a little look won’t hurt, right? They won’t even notice. Kirk moves closer to James and Lars room. He takes a deep breath before slowly placing his now trembling hand on the bronze knob belonging to the door he now stood in front of before slowly turning and opening the door just slightly.

Just as Kirk told himself, the boys are too busy with each other to notice the eyes now laid upon them. And what a sight they were. James’ long blonde mane bounces with each thrust of his hips in tandem with Lars’ small cock from the recoil of his lover’s dick ramming into him. Lars’ face is red and slick with drool and sweat, glistening in the dull light of the room.

It’s enough to make Kirk make a small needy groan of his own. He continues watching the two rut against each other while feeling his own need grow.

“James— oh my god, please, go harder! Harder!”

The bed squeaks faster as James fucks into Lars. The drummer’s chest heaves and his small fingers curl into the bedsheets as his prostate is abused over and over again by the blunt head of his boyfriend’s length. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. James, on the other hand, is fighting his orgasm already despite only being in Lars for a few minutes. James is unsurprisingly tipsy and the two of them know he cums faster when he’s had a beer too many— and Kirk is about to find out.

Kirk swallows his saliva watching James let out an almost inhuman growl as he speeds up yet again. Lars whines before his eyes roll back as a result. The whole scene is straight out of a porno. With Kirk’s cock aching and the unfolding scene in front of him, the guitarist allows his hand to travel to his crotch. As he gropes and palms himself, he bites his lip to hold back any other accidental noises he may make.

Lars isn’t the same. He clearly doesn’t care who in the hotel hears him, because he allows his jaw to go slack and his voice to create the sexiest moan both James and Kirk have ever heard.

“Lars, fucking hell, you’re gonna make me cum.. fuck!”

James curses loudly, pounding into the boy below him as he chases his orgasm. Kirk’s trembling hand goes faster rubbing himself over his tight pants. James unknowingly works himself into Lars in the same rhythm that Kirk is masturbating with; something that only drives Kirk crazier.

The sex only lasts a few minutes longer before James is about to burst. His hips stutter, eyelashes fluttering and head leaning back before he gives his last few thrusts to Lars. Warm cum spurts inside of the brunette boy as the drummer whines softly. Lars’ own orgasm hits him and he allows himself to cum on his own stomach, following his boyfriend.

Now only the creep behind their door is left. Kirk, who is desperate to come undone, frantically moves his hand up and down his clothed shaft while his spare hand leans on the wall. He no longer cares if someone sees. Doesn’t care if someone comes down the hallway, doesn’t care if Jason comes to see what the commotion is and finds him like this, doesn’t care if James meets eye contact with him—well, fuck, is actually happening before Kirk can even process it.

James half-lidded eyes stare into Kirk’s big brown ones. That’s all it takes, just a fucking look, and Kirk is cumming in his pants. James watches confused yet intrigued as Kirk blows his load right in front of him. A dark wet spot begins to start as Kirk’s legs shake. Kirk’s too blissed out from currently orgasming to process the fact that he’s just been caught peeping on his friends fucking— no, instead, he’s losing himself in public and he likes it.

And as soon as it starts, it’s gone. The squirts of cum come to a stop and Kirk is catching his breath, moving his gaze to the ground and squeezing his eyes shut. He may be a creep, but that was the hottest experience of his life.

James leans down to whisper to Lars.

“I think we were a little too loud.”

[miniwheat77]

Hello, I hope you are having a great day.

I haven't been able to get Slasher König and his reading wife out of my head for days. It's a scenario where he comes home from killing someone and asks his wife if she's proud of him, to which she says yes and some HUGE obscenity ensues.

Also if you can include something like the reader is madly obsessed with how strong König is (especially his arms) and how tall he is.

Thanks 🙇‍♀️

!CW! NSFW, blood, death, slasher!König, knife play, smut, unprotected p in v sex. (Sorry if I missed any.)

I've never written creepy slasher stuff before so if this is horrible I'm so sorry

I can just imagine he comes in, you're sitting on the couch watching tv or doing something like reading and you glance up from it to see him covered in blood. He's holding his mask in his hands and you know the person who felt his wrath tonight had probably pulled it off in some kind of struggle. You stand up, taking it from him. "Need it washed?" You ask. "No." He says. He's stern and his voice is deep and rough. "Need a new one. That one is ripped now." He's short. You nod. “I can get you another.” You smile. "Everything else went okay?" You smile. Ignoring the fact that he's a violent beast and he's only centimeters from you. "Mhm." He's still being short. "Did alright I think. I hope you're proud of me." He looks down. "Course I'm proud of you." You smile. It's a flirty smile and König is riled up from just a glance of it. Sliding his tongue over his bottom lip and closing the distance between the both of you.

The thrill of you is far more intoxicating than killing but you like when he comes home like this, covered in blood. Something about him hurting others is such a turn on. The way he looks covered in blood and when you've seen him in the act, he's strong. Overpowers anyone he's fighting against.

His hands are all over you, legs hiked up on his hips as he ruts his hips into you, massive cock hard and brushing over your clothed opening. He's smearing his victims blood all over you as he kisses you, hearing the click of a pocket knife has you moaning out. Tilting your head back into the wall whimpering, you're getting wet at the thought. He runs the blade over your throat, lips slightly parted as he watches in awe. He loves how much you love this. He loves that you get just as horny for violence as he does.

He should've known how bad the military would be for him. He couldn't get enough of the violence, being in control. To hear you're proud of him, he can't handle it. He throws the knife to the side, digging his teeth into your neck with a growl. Biting at the skin. He can feel your jugular vein throbbing behind the skin on your throat with his tongue. He licks against it, over and over. Licking his lips at the thought of it. He pushes your shorts to the side, revealing his cock from it's restraint and burying himself into you to the hilt, over and over. He's relentless, which is exactly what you want. You're obsessed with him and the way he manhandles you so easily. How he can twist you and use you any way he wants. He can overpower you so easily.

Yet he chooses not to in a violent way. Maybe that's why you like him so much.

You're nearly screaming as he stretches you open. You can't handle him. Can't handle the way he makes you feel. He loves how you squirm around in his grasp when you're overstimulated from his cock. Clutching at his thick arms for dear life, admiring the way his muscles flex as he holds you just right to hit the perfect angles deep inside of you. He'll laugh at you and degrade you. "Pathetic little thing, So eine Schlampe." He taunts. His warm breath sends chills up your spine. You can't take much more. But you don't have to worry. His hips are getting unsteady and sloppy, he's groaning out perfectly. Filling you full of him with a cry. When he pulls away from you, he smiles. You're bruised up from his lips, coated in his latest victims blood.

You're perfect.

[originalcollectionartistry]

A Workout to Repeat

Hello friends!

This request was originally sent to @mandos-mind-trick (which you should go check out their fics! They're one of my favourite writer on here!!) but as their requests are closed atm, I thought I would take a crack at the prompt!

Basically, you're in love with our resident muscle man Wrecker but don't want to risk your friendship with him. You're the Batch's medic so after patching Wrecker up, you need to let off some steam. So you head to the gym on Kamino after your latest mission... then smut ensues.

CW : PiV sex, oral (f! receiving), slight voyeurism, idiots in love, mutual pining

Word count: 3163

@anglfclulu this one's for you! I hope it's everything you wanted! Sorry about the wait dear!

Enjoy!

“Wrecker, I’m begging you to be more careful. This is the fifth time I’ve redone these stitches!” you complained.

As much as you loved the demolitions expert of Clone Force 99, he could be reckless at times. After your latest mission, Wrecker somehow got his bicep cut deeply into, so you had to stitch him up. You didn’t mind, truly! It was your job as the Batch’s medic to put them back together. It was just Wrecker had continually torn his stitches since you got back to Kamino. It wasn’t often you had shore leave and when you did, it was spent on Kamino. You were thankful for that. It gave you a chance to restock medical supplies on the Marauder, as well as restitch a certain Batcher in a clean, sterile environment.

You didn’t know why Wrecker continued to rip his stitches. It was impossible to you to think that he just wanted to see you. He didn’t like you like that, right?

“Oh, come on, mesh’la! It’s not that bad! You don’t mind stitching me up, do you?”

Rolling your eyes, you snipped the last stitch and started to put away the med kit. You would never admit that you were in love with Wrecker, so you acted annoyed, even if your stomach was fluttering with butterflies. You loved patching the giant up. It gave you a chance to feel the muscles underneath, to feel and wonder how easy he could lift you up; how easily he could pin you to a wall and ravish you endlessly.

Shaking your head to quell the rising arousal in your core, you gently shoved Wrecker, barely moving his arm in doing so.

“Doesn’t matter if I like it or not. Your arm won’t heal properly if you keep ripping the seam. I’d hate for you to be on medical leave because you got on infection,” you harumphed.

Wrecker stood up and flexed his arm, making sure the stitches were strong. Grinning when they didn’t rip, he stretched his arms above his head. Landing his arm above your head, he leaned over you, reminding you how small you were.

“Mesh’la! You know I’d never do that intentionally. Plus, I never mind coming to see you. I look forward to seeing you!”

“Careful Wrecker. You might set her off,” Crosshair teased, moving his toothpick from one side to the other.

You shot a glare the sniper’s way. Wrecker didn’t know about your feelings, and you wanted to keep it that way. You’d risk everything before risking your friendship with Wrecker.

Wrecker looked over to his brother in confusion. What did that mean? Set you off… in anger? Annoyance?

“Crosshair, shut your mouth and show me that leg of yours. I need to know nothings broken,” you snapped.

Wrecker moved away and towards his bunk, still confused about that interaction. He cared about you and hated when you got upset, especially if you were upset with him or his brothers. Maybe a nap would help him understand later.

Crosshair hissed in pain, hating how rough you were being. You clearly were mad at him, but force damn it you were rough. You never were rough unless you were ruthlessly upset with the boys and were mad that they could’ve died. You were very mad at his teasing about your feelings for Wrecker, but Crosshair was trying to move things along! You two had been dancing around for so long the crew was getting tired of your pining.

“Oh, did that hurt? I’m sorry Cross,” you said in a mocking tone. Nothing was broken, just a bit bruised and sprained.

“You really can be mean when you want to be ad’ika. I’m guessing my leg isn’t broken or else you wouldn’t be this rough.”

You looked up at him in frustration as you set bacta on his upper thigh and knee. “You know damn well I don’t want Wrecker knowing about my feelings. Why would you risk outing that?”

Chuckling, Crosshair grabbed another toothpick from his pouch. “Probably cause he likes you too di’kut. I’m trying to make things easier!”

“Kriff you asshole. He could be decommissioned and me fired if we were found out. I’m not risking his life.”

You slapped his leg and stormed away from the med bay. Only 10 more days of leave to go. This was going to be a rough week.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

You needed to let off steam. It wasn’t fair how quickly Wrecker could get you hot and bothered. You excused yourself from the barracks, saying you needed to work off some access adrenaline after patching everyone up. There was only one place you could go for that: the training gym. Kamino kept a gym on base, just so soldiers could work their strength back up after a medical rest, but anyone was welcome to use it.

Walking up to the rack, you calculated the heaviest you could go without hurting yourself. Plus, no one else was around to spot so you had to be careful. The bar was already 44lbs, so you added two 25lbs on each side of the bar. You had intended to deadlift, to pull the bar up but after Wrecker got you flustered, you put the bar set at shoulder height. Stepping under, you adjusted your grip, braced your core and lats, and began your sets of squats. Anything lower body would help cool you down. Your muscles would be burning for a different reason than what you came in for. Anything to distract you from the lustful thoughts for Wrecker.

You were his medic, his friend. You shouldn’t be feeling this way. You felt so guilty. You never dared tell him your feelings, but you felt guilty, nonetheless. Every squat was deeper than the last, subconsciously punishing yourself for your attraction to your friend. You pushed and pushed until your legs were shaking and on the brink of failure. After 5 sets of 10 reps, you racked the bar for the final time. You cleaned it off before moving on. You spread your workout from push to pull. Legs to arms to core and back again. By the time you finished your 7th exercise, you had probably been in the gym close to two hours by now. You wiped down the assisted pullup and moved on.

You eventually moved on to the adductor press. You adjusted the machine, so the pads were the furthest apart. Spreading your legs, you sat the chair and set the weight at 60lbs. Your inner thigh burned at being used after so long of not working them, but you pulled the weight together, so your knees touched gently. It was almost enough to forget your feelings for Wrecker. It would’ve been enough, had the man not walked in himself!

Wrecker had been bored and had started to tease Tech and Crosshair, so much that Hunter told him to work off his excess energy with weights before Crosshair shot him. Shrugging it off, Wrecker joined you. He felt so much towards you, he just didn’t know what to say. He cared about you, probably more than what he should towards a fellow soldier. You were just so lovely. Your bravery, talents, kindness were all things that made Wrecker’s heart flutter. You were so delicate when applying stitches, taking the time and care to make sure everything felt and looked good. You were so natural in caring for others and fighting for what’s right came naturally to you.

One of the many things you loved about Wrecker, was his ability to listen. Too many times you’d caught yourself venting about Crosshair or fuming at Tech’s refusal for help. Hunter could only take so much noise, so you found yourself with Wrecker a lot. It wasn’t long when you started to develop feelings. Wrecker was similar. It didn’t take much for him to start liking you but then the liking turned into something more. Something that made his tummy tighten every time he saw you… like now.

Waving to you, he grabbed some 140lbs dumbbells and started lifting. You almost wanted to scream in frustration. You were sat in the most provocative of muscle assists, legs spread and had a front row seat to Wrecker working out. Kriffing hells. You could feel your cunt start to quiver, juices flowing onto your undies. You sat there frozen; legs spread wide. Your breathing quickened, breaths coming in short pants. Your mouth dried a little. You reached for your water but knocked it over. You could only watch as it rolled away.

Wrecker heard a noise and saw you leaning to the side to reach your fallen bottle. You looked flushed; more flushed than you should’ve after sitting down for a minute. He set his weights down, walked over and grabbed your bottle. Wrecker was a bit worried, you looked feverish. Perhaps you should’ve called quits and gone for a shower if you weren’t feeling well.

“You okay ad’ika? You look like you’ve worked too hard.”

You swallowed harshly, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand. “Uhm… yes. Yes, I’m fine Wrecker. Thank you.”

Wrecker took one more look at you before heading back to his bench. You said you were fine, but you certainly didn’t look it. In fact, he wasn’t sure you were even using the machine anymore. You were just sitting there like a stunned mullet, mouth slightly agape and eyes half lidded. He’d seen women give Crosshair and Hunter than same look after a mission or during a night out at 79’s but he’d been too distracted or drunk to notice if women gave him that look; but you were giving it to him now. He had an idea of what it meant as his brothers would go off for the night before returning to the ship, so Wrecker had a theory to test. He started lifting heavier, above his head and out to the sides, bulging his muscles more, giving you a little show.

You had started to slightly grind against your seat, certain that you had soaked through your leggings. He had to have been doing this on purpose, the bastard! You watched as he started to thrust the rack bar above his head, without breaking a sweat! He had to have added at least 200lbs onto the bar. Kriff, your plan to work out the arousal had failed. You needed to be fucked and soon. You were desperate for friction, to the point you didn’t care who saw. If a reg came in and took advantage, you’d thank them if Wrecker didn’t clock on first. You started to gently rub your clit over your leggings.

Wrecker slammed the bar on the rack. He may have known what he was doing to you, but he was still courteous to put his weights away. He stalked over to you, leaning on the machine next to you.

“So, mesh’la. Enjoying the show?” he said, giving the most shit eating grin.

You could only nod, biting your lip to prevent a moan from slipping out.

Smirking, Wrecker gently lifted you out of your seat. Your thighs had been open for a while and were probably sore from the adductor exercise. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him for dear life.

“Shall we continue our workout elsewhere, cyare?”

You finally allowed a moan to slip past your lips. “Yes, please!”

Wrecker carried you across the gym, into the freshers. He pulled away from your lips to briefly scan for anyone else before pulling you into a shower stall. To make it less suspicious, you turned the water on. One, to help your sore muscles, and two, make anyone who enters think you were just showering. Wrecker stripped himself quickly, leaving clothes on the floor.

You let your feet touch the fresher floor as you caressed Wrecker’s body. Every scar, every divot, you let your hands wander and linger to feel every part of his body. You stripped down fast, hanging your clothes on the stall door so anyone would think it was just Wrecker and some barrack bunny.

Wrecker did the same as you, gently letting his hands wander to your derriere where he squeezed and palmed, eliciting moans from your throat. You palmed his erection, wanting to give him as much pleasure as you could. He was big, which you knew to some extent, but you’d need prep to take him all. Which you wanted wholeheartedly; you’d take every thick inch of him.

Wrecker kissed you hard, lifting you up into his arms again. His fingers deftly travelled down to where you wanted friction. He circled your clit gently before venturing one finger into your puckering canal. You bit your lip to silence the moan threatening to release itself.

“Wait,” Wrecker murmured. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

You smiled, tears threatening to come to the surface at his consideration. “Wrecker, I’ve wanted this for a while. I just didn’t want to risk getting you decommissioned. I want you and always have.”

Grinning ear to ear, Wrecker kissed you again. He didn’t put you down yet, but he did press you against the cold wall of the fresher now, so he had more leverage to rock into your hips. You felt his fingers leave your cunt, seemingly satisfied with the prep. He gently pushed into you, giving you time to adjust with every inch he gave. When he bottomed out, you both let out a moan at the feeling. You loved it, so much you started to squirm in his hands.

“Move, Wreck. Please. Please move!”  

He started to thrust up into you, watching every reaction. You seemed to enjoy harsher thrusts than faster ones, so Wrecker made sure to take his time with you. Deliberately thrusting in, he set a rhythm that was delicious and had you crying out. You could feel your breasts bounce up with every thrust, which you knew Wrecker loved. You knew he loved your breasts as he never stopped looking at them when you took your bindings off.

Wrecker loved the feeling of your pussy. You were warm and tight, and it felt like heaven to him. Your little moans and squeaks of pleasure were sounds he never wanted to stop hearing. He continued to thrust up into you, wanting you to finish before him. He could tell you were getting close as your pussy started to pulse involuntarily. Contracting and releasing as you bit his shoulder to cover your moan when you came. Your juices leaking slowly around his cock.

He set you down gently, kissing you once more before kneeling in front of you. He hooked one leg over his shoulder, licking and biting to where he wanted to be. Pressing a gentle kiss to your vulva, he licked you, delving his tongue into your waiting pussy. Hearing you moan was the greatest sound he could ever hear, better than any explosion he ever set off. He wanted to hear more, and he was gonna pull them out of you.

Wrecker started to eat you out like a man starved, sucking every drop of arousal out of your cunt. Swirling his tongue around your clit, he moaned into your vulva, sending vibrations up your spine. You both had waited so long for this, and it was finally happening.

Until Wrecker froze at the sound of the fresher doors opening. You heard some regs come in from training and covered your mouth to silence your moans. You thanked the Maker there were stall doors for the female staff to hide themselves so the men wouldn’t ogle. You weren’t one to shy away due to modesty, but you certainly did not want to be caught by regs.  

Wrecker lifted you up again with ease to hide you from being seen, wanting to save you from embarrassment. He was used to being bullied by regs, but you didn’t deserve that treatment.

“Oi, defect! Why’re you hiding in a stall? You embarrassed about your size?” a reg sneered.

They had obviously seen Wrecker but not you.

Not wanting to hear anymore quips from them, you moved your hand away from your mouth. Wrecker raised a brow in question before smother a laugh as you moaned as loud as you could with a smirk on your lips.

“Kriff Wrecker! You’re so big! I kriffing love being your barrack bunny! Fuck me harder baby!” you cried, pitching your voice higher than normal so you wouldn’t be found out.

It wasn’t often you swore like that, but Wrecker would make it his goal to hear it more. His hand hadn’t stopped stretching and prepping you, so he was able to slip in easily with your wetness. You released a wanton moan so sinful; Wrecker knew the regs had a hard on.

“Sorry lads, couldn’t hear you over my plaything!” Wrecker taunted. “What were you saying?”

“Come on! At least give us a turn when you’re done with her!”

Wrecker grimaced when you clenched around him as a tease. “No way! She’s mine and mine alone.” He kissed your earlobe before whispering to you, “And I’m hers. I belong to her.”

You cried out in pleasure, shivers sent down your spine as he rocked into you gently. Hips giving you the friction you desired. You met every thrust with one of your own, clawing at his shoulders, wanting more of him.

You barely registered the regs finishing up and leaving to find their own bunnies as you approached your high. You never thought the aspect of being caught would spice it up for you but as Wrecker thrusted harder and faster into your desperate pussy, you knew you’d be a little more daring in the future.

“Cyare, I’m close. Where?”

You tightened your legs around his waist. “Inside me. Please! Cum inside me!”

Your second high was approaching and feeling his cum shoot into your warm cunt, was the push you needed to finish too.  Your breathes intermingled, foreheads touching letting the other enjoy the closeness.

“Dear gods, please let that happen again.” Wrecker mumbled into your neck.

Laughing you agreed before kissing him again. In blissful silence, you finished showering and dressing together before walking back to the barracks hand in hand. You were smiling and telling jokes as you felt something hit your head.

Lula landed in front of your feet from Crosshair’s throw. Wrecker picked her up and hugged Lula close before handing her to you. Tech looked up from his little tinkering station, noting your changed attitudes and calmer demeanor. Something changed between you two and Tech knew, even without Hunter’s advanced senses.

“So, you finally fucked then?” Hunter mused, smelling the sex on you two, even after your shower.

You smiled as Wrecker flopped into his bunk, not wanting to reveal yourselves too quickly. Wrecker had other plans.

“Yup! Guess you were right boys! Should’ve just told her months ago!”

Hopefully it's everything you wanted darling!

Requests are happily accepted and constructive criticism is welcome!

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished: Honeymoon

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Word count: 2291]

[CW: dubious consensual sex, consensual sex, rough sex, light bondage, oral, alcohol use]

—————

Two weeks after Stolas and Stella’s wedding

Stolas did his best to maintain the peculiar balance of tension and blank focus. The sooner this was done with… he shoved away the thought of wanting this to be over. That was the quickest way to waste this evening with Stella. He felt himself reach the tipping point. His body shuddered with relief as he came, taloned fingers tearing into the sheets as he let out an involuntary moan. Stolas would have grabbed onto his wife’s thighs but she made it clear how much she hated his touch.

He’d tried to be affectionate on their wedding night. Just because they had a duty to conceive an heir, that didn’t mean the act couldn’t be enjoyable for them. Stella rejected that immediately, pushing him away when Stolas tried to kiss her. “Why would I ever want to kiss an imp fucker like you?” She then demanded they get the sex over with as quickly as possible until she laid their egg.

“Ugh, finally!” Stella said from above him. “Took you long enough tonight,” she continued in a scornful tone. She stopped riding him once his orgasm passed. She didn’t move off him right away and Stolas didn’t pull out either. The whole point of this marriage was to conceive an heir. Both of them wanted to increase the chances of a child so they stayed in position until Stolas’ cock softened enough to slip out on its own.

With a huff, Stella rolled off. She settled onto her side of the bed before bringing out her phone. She opened up her cycle tracking app to mark that they’d had sex that night. She was very thorough about it; logging any symptoms, notes on her mood and diet, tracking her basal body temperature. The regal demon wanted this heir business over as soon as possible.

Coitus logged, she started looking up activities for the next day. The newlyweds were halfway done with their month-long trip through all of Hell’s Rings. They had some formal events with the rest of Hell’s royals. But the next couple days in Gluttony were free. “Let’s see here, oh, Bee has a tasting of her new distilled Beelzejuice. There’s also a chocolate sculpture competition and the day after tomorrow the hotel is hosting a hors d'oeuvres sampling. Annabelle will love that and Gustav will jump at the chance to try Beelzebub’s newest brew.” Stella quickly texted her two closest friends to make plans.

“Three days from now we’re scheduled to judge a Hellforged Chef competition, so you’ll have to find something to occupy yourself until then,” she continued with a dismissive wave in Stolas’ direction. “But don’t forget you need to perform again in two days.” Her tone was haughty as she gave him a raking look. “Honestly this whole conception nonsense would be so much easier if you weren’t such a pathetic bore in bed, Stolas.”

The owl prince felt his face heat up with shame. Satisfied that she’d landed an emotional blow, Stella responded to her friends’ messages with a smirk.

Stolas turned away, listening to the rapid pings of texts. After a few moments he felt steady enough to get out of bed. He didn’t bother with the princely garments he’d worn earlier in the day; instead he grabbed casual shorts and a t-shirt. As usual, he wished her a polite, “Good night, Stella,” as he exited their hotel suite. As usual, she ignored him.

Once out in the hallway, Stolas slumped against the wall. He slid to the floor, hands gripping his scalp. We’ve been married two weeks. Get it together stupid bird. He’d signed on for a lifetime commitment with Stella. He had to shape up.

The pocket of his shorts buzzed, making Stolas squawk in surprise. Blitzø was texting him.

At teh bar. Dcikweeed bratndr won’t get me a dirnk. Sez im undregae

Stolas felt his beak twitch with a slight smile.

You are underage dearest. So am I for that matter. So is Stella, not that it’s stopping her. Or her gossipy friends that she keeps inviting at every opportunity on this trip.

Wuts teh ponit of royltea if you kant get bend rooles an shit?

Normally I’d advocate for not breaking the law but this is my honeymoon and I feel a drink or two is warranted in such situations. I’ll be there shortly to discuss things with Mr. Dickweed at the bar.

Fuk yes

Face to face with a member of the Ars Goetia, Mr. Dickweed promptly poured some top shelf Beelzejuice for them. The Hellhound’s paws shook a little as he slid the drinks to Stolas. The prince paid the demon double what the drinks cost to ease the bartender’s nerves.

Blitzø and Stolas claimed a high table. Stolas sat on the barstool with ease but the imp had to climb up. “Fuck I feel like a toddler in a goddamn high chair.” Fortunately once he was seated, the table wasn’t too high for comfort. “Thanks for the assist, Floof, didn’t think I had that much of a baby face. Gotta say it’s bullshit that you’re legally old enough to marry but not old enough to drink.” The imp continued to grumble as he tossed back some of his drink.

Stolas savored his drink. Blitzø’s running commentary had been a familiar constant on this trip. “I’m sure you’ll look more mature once your braces are off. They’re a sure giveaway to your underage status.” That set the imp complaining about the braces, his orthodontist, and his inability to eat certain foods. Stolas listened and made agreeing noises at appropriate times. He’d heard all of this many times before. He knew Blitzø was complaining for the sake of it.

By the time the imp’s rant ended, most of his Beelzejuice and half of Stolas’ were gone. He eyed the Goetia over the rim of his glass. “So. Stella got your feathers in a twist again?” The owl grimaced, nodded, and gulped down a huge swallow of the honey sweet alcohol. It left a pleasant burn down his throat; a good distraction from his wife’s opinion of him.

Blitzø didn’t let up though. “C’mon, spit out what she did. You’re gonna stew over it for ages otherwise.”

Stolas’ eyes narrowed at him. “I would prefer not to talk about this Blitzø,” he said, choosing his words very carefully to avoid activating the binding. The imp inhaled sharply at Stolas’ tone. He made himself relax and wait.

The silence continued as the prince nursed his drink. Eventually he gave in to Blitzø’s patience. “Am I a pathetic bore?” he asked quietly. “Am I that terrible a lover?” His four eyes heated with frustrated tears and he drained the last of his glass to distract himself.

Blitzø snorted. “Well, yeah, of course you are.” Stolas felt his heart drop in shock but Blitzø continued. “With her at least. I mean, you guys don’t even like each other. Why would you be good at fucking her?” Now Stolas’ jaw dropped. His heart rose closer to its home in his chest as Blitzø kept talking. “I’d have told you if you were shit in bed by now. Not to mention, you’re power bottom. Doesn’t really mesh with straight up bitch.”

Suddenly, the prince felt something sliding up his inner thigh. Blitzø’s hands were above the table but a seductive smile played across his lips. There was no denying the heat in the imp’s eyes as his tail tip slid under Stolas’ shorts. The spade shaped end stroked underneath the owl demon’s clothes, just barely brushing his groin.

“If you’re up for it,” Blitzø said with a purr in his voice, “I can give a demonstration.”

Stolas felt his face heat at the thought. Blitzø’s tail continued to tease until his feathers puffed up in excitement. “Mmm, please do.”

Moments later, they were in Blitzø’s room, a few doors away from the honeymoon suite. Like the other servants that accompanied the Goetia, he had a very basic hotel room with a single full sized bed. The imp had Stolas pinned to the mattress. His tongue swirled in the prince’s mouth, sliding far enough to touch his throat. His tail was wrapped around Stolas’ thigh, the tip still teasing the owl’s balls.

When Blitzø finally broke the kiss, Stolas was gasping for air. “Oh my- FUCK!” Blitzø had bit into his neck before he could catch his breath. Even the imp’s pointed teeth couldn’t easily sink through all Stolas’ feathers. Which was why he bit down hard. “You do like to be in charge, don’t you Blitzø?” The imp ripped the shirt off Stolas, tearing the fabric as he scratched the prince’s chest.

“You fuckin know it.” He slid his body up Stolas’ torso. His smug expression was full of rough desire. Blitzø flicked his forked tongue at the tall demon’s beak. Stolas’ mouth parted open as he leaned toward Blitzø’s tongue, desperately wanting it back in his mouth.

Blitzø chuckled. “And your lanky ass loves it.” He pushed Stolas back onto the mattress with one hand as the other grabbed part of the torn shirt. Using his teeth, he tore the fabric into a long strip. “Aw shit, thread in my braces. Hang on.” With his tongue and claw he tried to locate it until Stolas reached up to delicately remove it. Blitzø thanked him then grabbed the taloned finger in his teeth. Stolas moaned in pleasure as the imp then pulled the finger into his mouth and sucked on it.

“Oh, yes, I do love it, Blitzø. I love when you take command, when you’re in control. I love when you [redacted] my [redacted] [redacted] with your thick [redacted].” Stolas continued to list what he liked from Blitzø as the imp removed his finger with a ‘pop!’ He grabbed both of the prince’s wrists and used the t shirt strip to tie them together.

He flung Stolas’ bound wrists back over the Goetia’s head. “Told ya so.” With a lustful look, he stripped off his own shirt and pants. He left his tight black underwear on. Not that it hid his bulging erection. Stolas let out a soft whine as he eyed Blitzø’s hard cock straining against fabric. The smaller demon laughed huskily. “Nah, I don’t think you’re desperate enough yet.”

The teasing promise in the imp’s voice made Stolas tense and squirm. He could simply order Blitzø to strip fully but that took all the fun out of things. Keeping himself from issuing any demands also added an odd thrill to their liaisons. So he held back any words as Blitzø played with him.

Blitzø bit and kissed, stroked and scratched, teased and tormented Stolas. Blitzø brought him to the edge of coming before easing off. The imp snuggled up against him, gently nuzzling his neck feathers as Stolas relaxed. Then he sank his teeth into Stolas’ collarbone and began the delicious torment again.

Once he had Stolas whining in desperation, Blitzø took off his underwear and straddled him across the chest. His tail quickly wrapped around Stolas’ cock. The prince gasped and Blitzø took the opportunity to grab both sides of his head. The imp roughly pulled Stolas’ head to his groin and thrust his cock down the prince’s throat. Stolas was vaguely grateful he didn’t have much of a gag reflex. Then he couldn’t think of much of anything as Blitzø face fucked him.

Stolas closed his eyes in bliss. Blitzø’s thick penis filled his mouth. The owl demon used his tongue, stroking and tasting every hard inch as Blitzø kept thrusting. “Fuck, Stolas. That. Feels. So. Fucking. Good!” He punctuated each word with a sharp short thrust. Meanwhile his tail was wrapped around Stolas’ cock. Each thrust of his hips made his tail slide around the owl’s length.

Stolas moaned around the cock in his mouth. Blitzø started to thrust faster, grunts of pleasure and exertion escaping his throat. Suddenly he went rigid. His claws flexed as he held Stolas’ head against his crotch. Stolas could feel Blitzø twitching and pulsing in his mouth as the imp came. Warm cum filled his throat. The sensation of Blitzø orgasm in his mouth tipped Stolas over the edge. He came hard, coating the loops of Blitzø’s tail.

The two demons stayed frozen in place for a moment. Then as the tension eased away, leaving the soft pleasure, Blitzø let go of Stolas’ face. Stolas swallowed the remaining saliva and cum, his head relaxing onto the pillows. Blitzø unwrapped his tail to let it flop off the side of the bed. Then he shifted to lay next to Stolas.

With his arms still bound, Stolas brought them down, maneuvering to embrace Blitzø. The pair laid there for a time, basking in the aftermath of shared pleasure.

Then, once Stolas could think clearly again: “Thank you, Blitzø. It seems you were right.” Blitzø, not quite able to speak yet, waved a horns sign with one hand. Stolas smiled and nuzzled the imp’s forehead.

A few moments later, Blitzø extracted himself to clean off his tail. He brought back a towel and bottles of water for the two of them. Cleaner and hydrated, he untied Stolas so they could cuddle better. They chatted idly for a bit, brainstorming activities for the next couple days. Blitzø wanted to visit an all-you-can-eat hot dog bar while Stolas was interested in a local bookstore that specialized in works on local cuisine.

Plans made, Blitzø shifted on top of Stolas again. “Well, Mr. Power Bottom. Ready for more?”

With a smirk of his own, Stolas rolled them so he had Blitzø pinned. “Very much so,” he murmured, kissing his lover softly.

—————

A/N: This is what Stolitz nation wanted with The Full Moon right? I’ve been wanting to write this bit for awhile and after the emotional damage of Full Moon I needed this feelings bandaid.

Side note, updates have been slow due to Striker still not vibing with my brain and our kiddo being on summer vacation. Writing mature audience content with an elementary schooler around all day does not compute for me. So new parts are coming out slower but the tale must go on!

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🖤🩶🤍💜