#but he makes progress and he tries to do better. + that leads to him becoming a different type of 'hero' than the symbol he was originally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

assassinsblade · 4 months

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Forget Me Not | 4

You confuse healing with hurting others; Azriel's ready to let you hurt him anyway.

WC: 3.5k

Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, my poor boy Azriel is sad.

a/n: I'm so thankful for all the support and kind comments for this story! There will still be at least 2 more parts. Sorry for this one being a bit shorter.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

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Azriel hadn't interacted with you much since lending you his dagger.

He was always there, sure, but he seemed to be letting you lead wherever your friendship would go. He did not try to force you into speaking with him or being around him, but you did notice his nervous energy when you were around.

When you'd pass him in the House of Wind, run into one another in the library, or sit across from each other at dinner, you couldn't help but study how he'd changed. While he had been quiet before, he had always held a certain peaceful arrogance about him. Now, his silence seemed more insecure and anxious, as if he was not quite sure of himself in his own place of residence.

You hadn't had anyone stay the night with you since that night with Azriel either.

You noticed that he kept his bedroom light on every night, though. You weren't sure if he did this to pretend he was still awake, so you'd be less embarrassed if you needed to wake him, or if he did this to reassure you someone was aware and ready in the house during a time of the night you felt more vulnerable. Either way, you tried not to let it effect you too much.

Some nights when noticing the change between Azriel and yourself got too much, you would cry until your eyes became swollen and burned with exhaustion, finally allowing you to fall asleep. Other nights, every noise in the house caused your anxiety to skyrocket, and you found yourself heading to the library to read as a distraction, knowing you would have to try to rest the following night instead.

Nightmares came every now and then. You had mentioned this to Rhys, assuming that he might have experienced something similar with how much he had gone through, and he suggested a sleeping tonic from Madja. You took it nightly, and it seemed to help the majority of the time.

It had been two months since that night, and while your progress was no where near finished, and your trauma would forever be a part of you, you felt less fragile than you did in those previous weeks. You had started showing up to group events again with the whole inner circle, laughing had become more of a consistent part of your days with the help of Cassian and Mor, and the House had even helped prepare food you could keep down until your appetite was back to normal.

The only thing that didn't seem to be getting any better was your relationship with Azriel.

He tried to help in his own way. He left books out in inconspicuous locations that he thought you would like. There would be a box of your favorite pastries on the kitchen counter in the morning, as if anyone else in the household liked their tart flavor. Sometimes you would even notice shadows slinking into your room at night, tugging at the window locks and blinds to ensure everything was secure.

And you knew he wasn’t trying to be noticeable with these things. In fact, it seemed like he was doing everything in his power to not draw attention to himself. He would instead scan through the pages of the books to see if you had made any notes, check the pastry boxes to make sure you had eaten something, or have his shadows close the window when the cold air was beginning to wake you up.

The fact that it all helped only made you angrier.

The inner circle noticed your frustration around the shadowsinger as well, especially during Winter Solstice celebrations.

You had felt good enough to join the rest of the group at the River House, but it was obvious enough how tense things were between you and Azriel:

Friends exchanged gifts, hugs, and laughter, but Azriel kept to himself the entirety of the night, only occasionally sending one of his family members a small smile or taking a sip of his drink.

He had gotten everyone very thoughtful gifts, and he seemed genuinely touched at the presents he received in return. You tried not to flinch at the gardening book he had gotten Elain or the decorated sheath she had gotten him for one of his daggers.

Azriel and Elain didn't speak much that night though, as much as you tried not to notice. You really did try not to notice Azriel so much, but it was as if your gaze was being pulled to him by some unknown force, demanding that you acknowledge that he was here, close to your side, his attention all on you.

And you felt that attention more than ever when Feyre handed you a box wrapped in midnight blue, the wrapping paper glinting from where you sat by the fire.

Swallowing, you refused to look up at Azriel, knowing it would only make the feeling in your stomach worse.

You heard Rhys making conversation in the background, trying to ease the tension and take some attention away from yours and Azriel's exchange.

The shadowsinger also tried to give you privacy, chiming in here and there to add to Rhys’ conversation, but you still felt his eyes keep moving to you.

Fingers fumbled with unwrapping and pulling apart the box before finally revealing what lay beneath.

Underneath a layer of tissue paper sat a delicate piece of glass about the size of a piece of paper. It was transparent, but somehow held some light and color at certain angles, adding a sort of whimsical iridescence to it. It was stunning, and your careful fingers felt unworthy of holding such an awe-inspiring thing. Your only problem was you had no idea what it actually was.

Azriel cleared his throat, and you couldn't stop your eyes from floating to his.

"It's a translator." He fidgeted from the chair he sat in. "From the Day Court. If you place it on a page of writing, it will translate the text to whatever language you request. I thought you might want to expand some of the books you have access to."

Your heart pounded in your chest. He knew you loved reading. He knew you loved studying. He knew you and had gotten you a gift that made you so excited you had to actively scold yourself to loosen your grip on the glass.

His hazel eyes were filled with so much emotion as he tried to gauge your reaction, you felt something physically crack in your chest.

You tried to will your tears down.

"Thank you," you whispered, unable to make your voice louder. Azriel accepted it all the same, giving you a small nod before clasping his hands together and averting his gaze back to Rhys.

You hadn't gotten anything for Azriel.

You didn't have much to give him anymore. He knew that, despite the sadness that surrounded him that night.

Maybe it was because you would have gotten him a solstice gift before. Not only would you have picked something out months in advance, you would have teased him about it, gone giddy with excitement over the surprise.

After what happened, there hadn’t been a gift in that pile addressed to him from you, and it only served to show the damage that had been done to your friendship.

You tried not to let what he had done damage you further, continuing to build up your walls both physically and emotionally.

Cassian’s training was great for the body and mind, and you put all of your focus into that.

Training had allowed for you to channel some of the agony harbored in your chest into exercise. Every night around 9pm you would meet the general up in the training ring, going over anything from conditioning and weight lifting to actual battle tactics like sword training and hand-to-hand combat.

You knew that Azriel normally came up to train late at night, but it seemed like he pushed his time later in order to give Cassian and you some privacy. You tried not to think about how little of sleep he must be getting if he wasn't coming up to train until midnight. It wasn't your problem.

At first, you were scared both intrusive thoughts and your body's memory would hinder your sessions. You had been hesitant and nervous, but Cassian had quickly made you feel at ease. You knew he had trained Gwyn, and Cassian was a trusted friend, so you shouldn't have been surprised when the sessions went swimmingly.

Cassian was such a steady presence, someone you knew you could always rely on. He made sure to check in on you every night, casually asking questions that seemed nonchalant enough to not be overbearing or annoying while still showing he cared. That didn't stop him from overstepping at times though.

Hours ago, Cassian had been sparring with you in the training ring, his steps circling your own and hands raised ready to strike. You had followed his movements, trying to remember everything you had been taught while silencing outside noises.

You weren't sure if he had said it to get under your skin, to win the upper hand, or if it was something he had actually been pondering for a while.

When you had taken a step as if to attack, Cassian had eyed the dagger in your hand — Azriel’s dagger —and had bluntly asked, "Do you think you'll ever forgive him?"

You had nearly stumbled in your stance.

The inner circle had been very careful to tiptoe around you and Azriel. They didn't ask about your relationship or where you stood, never tried to force interactions or situations upon the two of you, and you had gotten used to the peace of their feigned ignorance.

You had to shake off the shock of his question before it festered in your chest.

"What?" You had decided to ask instead, buying yourself some time to think.

You didn't know what you were doing with your body anymore, if you were still on physically guard, fighting, or if all of your energy was being put toward guarding your emotions.

"I'm not saying you should," Cassian had quickly amended. "But I am wondering where your head is at."

Only staring at him, your eyebrow arched in challenge. "Should it be somewhere specific?"

Cassian's sigh had been near silent in the large room, and the large warrior seemed to deflate at your answer. "No. Of course not."

"Good," you had only replied, voice hard and final. "Then let's keep going."

Cassian had gone right back to his teasing, difficult self, but he left not too long after that sparring round ended.

That had been hours ago, but you were still there, knives and daggers lined up, throwing them at the boards across from you. Each throw had you huffing, and with your strength depleting, your aim became further and further off through the night.

Your arms were sore and numb, both from throwing the weapons and from sparring with Cassian earlier. But it felt good, knowing your muscles were being used, knowing you were growing stronger, more powerful and less vulnerable.

Sleep should have found you about an hour ago, but you knew you wouldn't be able to get any tonight. Cassian's words flowed nonstop through your head: Do you think you'll ever forgive him?

I don't know Cassian, do you think he'll ever stop being such a fuck-up?

The question made you angry, because this situation was never about him, and you didn't owe Azriel anything.

You knew Azriel was Cassian's brother. You knew everyone wanted your family to be whole again, to stop seeing each other hurting. But you were angry at the expectations placed on you by your friends to offer forgiveness, you were angry at Azriel for being too late in every area of your life, and you were angry at yourself for missing him.

Gods, you wanted to scream, to thrash, to hit yourself until you could force yourself into just minutes of peaceful rest.

Do you think you'll ever forgive him?

Do you think he deserves forgiveness?

You paused, breathing heavily as you thought over your own words and reaction. You knew he was trying, but you also knew some things didn't change. And some people weren't worth getting hurt over again.

Before you could pull the dagger in your hand back and launch it forward toward the wooden board, you noticed the shift in the air.

Shadows danced along the floors, curling and floating around training equipment.

You knew Azriel moved back the time he would come up here to train independently so that you and Cassian could have privacy. You knew that you were technically the one infringing on his claimed time and peace now. That didn't stop the wave of frustration that rolled over you, though.

Azriel's presence mimicked that same wave shoving you under. You were sick of it. Sick of feeling like you couldn't breathe, like you couldn't fight back, like every single inch of your body wouldn't listen to you anymore. You were sick and tired of feeling worthless, like you would never be loved, like you would never be someone's priority. And you were so fucking tired of being sad.

Fire burned within your veins, but it wasn't because of shame or hurt. You were angry again. You had deserved better, and you had gotten left in the dust like a piece of trash. And he thought a pretty present could fix things? Could fix you?

As if the iridescent glass sheet could blur the memory of the male's tongue on your neck, the feeling of his fingers touching where they shouldn't, translating the history written on your body into something more pleasant, more beautiful, like a tale of a hero rescuing the dame and whisking her off to safety.

Before you knew what you were doing, you took the dagger Azriel had lent you and turned with a speed and strength you had never aimed at another person, heaving out a noise of frustration and sending the weapon flying toward Azriel's form just inside the doorway.

You saw red. The red of the male's blood in the alleywall, the red of your own blood, the red of Azriel's blood now beading along his bicep, the red of pure unfiltered rage.

"You are a piece of shit, Azriel. A fucking selfish, cruel, shallow bastard. Do you know that?"

Your chest heaved as you tried to control yourself, your fingers already itching for another weapon. It wasn't enough to see you had nicked his skin. You wanted him to fight back, you wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt you.

"Is that why you go after damaged females? In an attempt to find something redeemable about yourself? To act like the hero, like some sort of protector?"

He flinched at the words but otherwise remained unmoving. You hated him for it.

"You're no hero. You're a joke."

You watched as the blow landed, and a wave of adrenaline rushed over you. You deserved this. You had been bleeding for months, crawling up the well of your depression until your fingertips were raw and worn, and these attacks against him felt like a hand reaching down from the heavens, like an extra surge of energy to keep yourself going. You didn't want to be the one bleeding, it was someone else's time to bleed for once.

A step toward him, but he didn't move.

"Do you know what the priestesses tell me?"

He blinked, swallowing harshly.

"They say it's not my fault, what happened to me." You shrugged, letting out a bitter chuckle. "I guess they are partially right. Because it's your fault too. And the male's. But I'm not completely blameless here. I mean what in the Cauldron's name was I thinking, putting my trust in you?"

That got him. Eyes squeezed shut suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as if he had actually been stabbed. Good.

"After all," you continued, beginning to pace around the training area, languidly taking small steps as if you were telling your own tale. "How many of those close to you have you let down before? Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, Elain, your mother... I really should have expected to get hurt because of you."

You could see wetness on his cheeks, but you still did not back down. And he did not move from his spot, his hazel eyes not even hardening at the onslaught.

You'd just have to go harder.

"Sometimes in my nightmares, your hands are the ones hurting me in that alley. I can feel your scars as you pin me to the wall, as I'm violated." You let out a humorless laugh. "I think my mind keeps trying to tell me that's all you're good for: inflicting damage."

A drop of blood from his bicep fell to the floor in a perfect circle.

You stopped your pacing, only about fifteen feet in front of him, and dropped your hands to your side. With your head held tall, you looked him directly in his eyes, pausing to memorize the broken look of him.

His chest was hardly rising and falling. He stood completely and utterly still. Hazel eyes on your own, jaw clenched, cheeks wet.

He was a beautifully broken portrait. And you had just torn him to shreds.

Summoning the rest of your courage, you spit out the thought that had been tormenting you, curling its way around your heart until you felt it would be strangled.

A thought, and a promise.

"You may have thought me worthy of being forgotten, but I will make sure you never forget what you have done to me."

Breaking eye contact, you walked past him out of the training ring, refusing to turn back. If you thought you heard a wounded noise travel softly from his lips, you ignored it.

Maybe you were a bad person, maybe deep down you were a sadistic, cruel being, but saying those words finally lifted something from your chest. Air came easier, and some part of you felt vindicated after unleashing yourself, despite the shaking that immediately overcame you in your retreat.

You might have been confused. Your chest might have been swarming with overwhelming, conflicting emotions and adrenaline. You were filled with so much love and hate, so much yearning and anger, but you at least felt like you had a release, the swirling poison in your chest no longer sitting so close to your heart.

Do you think you'll ever forgive him?

It was cathartic. The sharp words, watching them pierce him down to his core, seeing as he cried over what you'd become. And for once, as you let the cool breeze wash over your overworked muscles, you felt tears build in your eyes not from sadness but from relief.

Like a fire burnt out, you dragged your weary body back to the House of Wind, barely making it to your bed before collapsing.

You imagined Azriel standing where you left him, bleeding from where you had slashed him. He hadn't even said a word — he had just let you tear him to pieces.

Was it his own way to punish himself? Was this about him all over again?

Do you think you'll ever forgive him?

Maybe if you knew what was coming in the days following, you would have said yes. Maybe you would have wanted to be around him more, to actually try, instead of pushing him away. Maybe you would have realized that you weren’t just punishing him but yourself as well.

But you didn’t know what was coming. So you pushed the image of his wounded expression, the way he had physically flinched at your words, away from your mind, closed your eyes, and went to sleep.

If you dreamt about his scarred hands scooping you up in that alleyway, bringing you close to his chest and keeping you safe, you'd never admit it.

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x you

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messylustt · 1 year

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Ethan smut with an Innocent and inexperienced reader? just them gasping and Ethan making sure they're okay, whimpering his name etc

there’s something about this dynamic that’s just *chefs kiss*

so innocent — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : ethan teaching you how to pleasure yourself.

contents : virginity loss. very innocent reader. use of ‘good girl’. spit.

“How do I—“ You begin, brushing your hands down your skirt.

"It's okay, just follow my lead." Ethan said, also brushing his hands down your skirt. "Just lie back..." Ethan begins, gently pushing your shoulder so that you rested against the headboard of Ethan's bed. "That's it."

You had gone to Ethan after someone said something about touching oneself. And when you stared at them all in confusion they had laughed. You felt embarassed, and your confusion in the situation made you want to rectify that.

When you knocked on Ethan's dorm room, fidgeting nervously, you had quietly asked what touching yourself means.

Ethan had stared at you, surprised but progressively turned on by your earnest look. You had a slight blush tainting your cheeks, when Ethan pulled you further in, shutting the door.

"Are you sure, y/n?" Ethan asks you, letting his gaze drop to your bare legs. You readjusted yourself on his bed, as you stared at him, not knowing where to place your hands.

You nod. "I want to know what it means—what it's supposed to feel like." The innocence swirling in your eyes went straight to Ethan's dick.

He gulped, sitting beside you, as he placed his hand over your legs. "What did they say?"

"They were asking what the most scandelous place they touched themselves was." You bit your lips abesntmindely, nibbling in thought. "I hadn't known what to say."

Ethan moves closer to you, now resting his hand on your thigh. He didn't want you to know exactly how eager he was to teach you. "So, you've never touched yourself in anyway?"

You shake your head. "Is that bad?"

Ethan quickly shakes his head. "No, no." He moves closer, as he brushes your hair behind your ear. You meet his gaze as he darts his eyes across your face. "That's fine. Touching yourself just feels nice, that's why everyone does it."

"Oh." You nod, feeling slightly ashamed that you hadn't yet.

"I can show you." Ethan tries not to sound too eager, wanting you to feel safe and comfortable.

You gulp, but nod. "Is that okay?"

Ethan's eyes slightly glaze over as his hand shifts from your thigh. "Why don't you take off your skirt?"

You do so, shimmeying out of the material. You leant back against the headboard, keeping your thighs pressed together, embarrassed.

Ethan places his hand back on your now bare thigh, making you slightly shiver. "Is this okay?" Ethan gently asks, as he begins to stroke your skin, watching you closely.

You nod. "You have to use your words, y/n, so, that I know you're feeling okay."

"Yes." You say, as Ethan brings his hand closer to the edge of your panties. He traces the outline, continuing to speak. "You can touch yourself whenever you feel...hot down here." Ethan looks back to your face. "How do you feel now?"

Your chest is slightly heaving up and down as your rub your thighs together. "Hot and...weird."

"That's good." Ethan's tone is praising. "That means your turned on."

You nod, following on to Ethan's words. Ethan slowly drags two of his fingers down the middle of your clothed pussy. You jolt, attempting to close your legs tighter at the foriegn feeling. "Its okay." Ethan consoles, as he places both his hands on your thighs. He moves closer, for better access.

"I want to help you." He says, slowly pushing your legs apart. "For me to do that, I need you to spread your legs." Ethan's tone has turned slightly breathy, even more so as you slowly draw your legs further apart. "Good...girl." Ethan praises, gulping.

His comment sends a shiver through your body, resulting in heat at your core. "I feel hot...more than before."

Ethan nods, adjusting himself, so that he can stare at your pussy. He presses his fingers back to your middle, rubbing. You gasp, your back slightly arching. "That feels- oh."

"Good?" Ethan inquires, rubbing up and down your pussy. He could feel your wetness soaking through the material of your panties.

"I'm going to remove your panties now." Ethan states. "Can you lift your hips for me?"

You do, pressing back against Ethan's bed. Ethan drags your panties down and tossing them aside. He looks back to your now bare pussy.

The cold air makes you press your legs together again. Ethan catches your gaze, with a small raise to his brows. You slowly reopen your legs, spreading them wider than before. Ethan's breath hitches at the sight of you watching him, waiting for him to touch you.

Ethan brings his hand back to your core, gently stroking through your wetness. Your body immediantly responds, slightly pushing into him but also away. "You can use your fingers to pleasure yourself, like this..." Ethan begins to circle your clit, adding occasional pressure that makes your body jolt into him. "Oh..." a breathy whimper leaves your lips.

Ethan continues to stroke and rub you. Pleasure is coursing through you, as more little moans leave your lips, but you grow embarrassed at the noise coming out of you that you press your lips together.

"No, no. It's good to make noises, especially if someone else is touching you. It shows them you like what their doing." Ethan's fingertips are now soaked in your arousel, as he watches your expressions.

"I-is that what- that feels like- oh wow." You'd never felt so good before. Why hadn't you done this sooner? Ethan then draws his hand away from your pussy, allowing a needy, pathetic whine leave you.

Ethan grins, grabbing your hand and leading it down to your pussy. "I just want you to learn the movements that feel nice."

He begins to move his fingers along yours, guiding you across your pussy. You pass over your engorged clit, making your back arch. A moan tumbles from your lips, making Ethan's cock react against his pants. He quickens his pace, meaning your own fingers stroke against your pussy a pace faster. "E-ethan."

"Your doing so...so good." Ethan breathes as he palms himself over his pants.

You suddenly feel something about to explode in your lower stomach, making you push Ethan's hand away. But Ethan knows what your feeling, and puts his hand alone back oin your pussy, continuing to rub. "N-no, I-"

"That's normal." Ethan says gently, as he strokes you. "Your about to orgasm."

Your head hit backs against the headboard. Ethan then sticks a finger inside you. You grab his wrist. "What-"

"Its okay, y/n. It will help you reach your orgasm." Ethan begins to slowly thrust his finger in and out of you. You moan, louder this time, your mouth open and panting. "Oh, god, Ethan."

Ethan begins to rub himself over his pants as he fingers you. "I'm gonna add second finger, alright?" In response he pushes his middle finger into you. Your heaving hard, as pleasure stays written all over your face. "That feel good?"

"Uh- uh huh." You quickly nod, making Ethan slightly groan as he palms his throbbing cock.

Then pleasure hits you, like you've never felt it before. Your back arches against Ethan's pillow as shocks spread through your body. You shudder, as Ethan fingers you through your orgasm.

When Ethan pulls away your panting and breathless, your eyes slightly hooded. "I-wow."

You go to say more when you catch Ethan bringing his wet fingers up to his mouth. Your eyes grow wide as you watch him suck you orgasm off. Ethan grins, catching your big eyed gaze. "You taste lovely, y/n."

You gulp, feeling the pressure between your legs return. A confused expression befalls your face as you look back down to your pussy. "Why do I feel...hot again. You just-"

Ethan was smiling, and that's when you noticed his hand rubbing himself over his dick. "One can have many orgasms at once, y/n."

You then carefully point to his cock. "Does that mean your turned on too?"

Ethan's chest is heaving. "You want to learn more? There's other ways to feel good."

You gulp, but eagerly nod. If you can feel pleasure like that again you wouldn't hesitate. A growl leaves Ethan's lips as he quickly places his hands beside your head, as you fall back onto the bed, your head on a pillow.

You gazed up at Ethan, as he grabbed one of your legs, pulling you apart again. He wrapped your legs around his hips as he pushed his bulge down onto you. You slightly jolted up into him, your clit still slightly sensitive. Your mouth opened as Ethan began to slowly grind himself into you. The material of his pants feeling strange against your naked pussy.

Ethan breathed over your mouth. "Undo my belt for me."

You carefully move your hands down, undoing his belt slowly. You looked down at your working hands when Ethan grabbed your chin, pulling you back up so that his mouth hovered over yours. "You know how to kiss right?"

"I've kissed one person." You nod.

"Have you ever used tongue?"

Your cheeks grow pink, and Ethan has his answer. "Let me show you. It feels really good." He whispers, before kissing you. He just gently sucks on your bottom lip, going slow at first.

"Keep undoing my belt." Ethan whispers against your lips. Your quicken your hands, managing to un-loop the leather, as Ethan kisses you again. This time he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. "Open your mouth a fraction." Ethan instructs.

And when you do, he dives in, lapping at your tongue making you gasp. "Just copy my movements."

You move your head like his, and suck and lick his tongue like he was doing to you. "Pull me out— bring my cock out— now-" Ethans says breathlessly, as you had tossed his belt aside.

You unzip him, and gingerly sink your hand into his boxers, softly wrapping your hand around his cock, and bringing him out. Ethan's breathing shudders against your mouth, before he's pulling back, holding your thighs to him as he leant back.

He grabs a condom from his bedside table, removing the packet and placing it over his dick. "Is this okay?" Ethan asks you, as you nod quickly staring at his cock.

He then glances at your pussy, tilting his head slightly. Then he spits, directly onto you, making you gasp. He then uses his fingers to spread it around your clit and hole. Your body shudders as you can feel his spit drip. "Just want to make sure you're ready."

Ethan leans back down, kissing your lips. "Just tell me if you want to stop."

"Please." You say, anticipating the feeling of him inside you, if it felt anything similair to his fingers.

Ethan positions himself, as he slowly pushes in. You immediantl;y clench around him, your hands shooting to his shoulders. "It's gonna hurt at first, alright? But I promise you'll feel so good soon." Ethan pushes an inch further in, as your grip tightens. "It hurts-"

"Shh." Ethan kisses you. "You're okay." He distracts you by lapping at your neck as he pushes further in. "E-Ethan."

"Relax." He breaths against your skin, kissing and biting.

You try to, letting your walls lessen their hold, making ethan push much further in. "Just tell me when you want me to move."

You shakily nod, as you grab his shirt material. Soon, the pain shifts to pleausre and you shuffle, wanting Ethan to move. "You can move."

Ethan smiles, beginning to thrust in and out of you slowly at first before picking up pace. "Fuck..." He breathes, eyes rolling.

"Ethan..." You moan out, as your hands begin to wnader on yoru own. You reach his abs, feeling definition you never thought Ethan had. You scratch at his skin as Ethan moans into yoru ear. He supports himself by your head as he thrusts in and out.

"God, Ethan..." Your panting, feeling dazed.

"How do you feel?"

“So good, so, so good." you ramble out making Ethan grin.

"Your taking me so well, y/n. Good girl...taking me- fuck." Ethan's fingers tighten around the sheets. He kisses you, harder this time, as he picks up pace, making you both whimper and moan into each others mouths.

Soon Ethan orgasms, shuddering his hips into as you fall apart aswell. "Christ." Ethan gulps as he slows, staying inside you for a moment longer.

"I should have— god I should have been doing that a long time ago." You breath, chest heaving.

But Ethan shakes his head, as your brows knit together. Ethan kisses your lips before smiling. "Because then I wouldn't have been able to show you. I liked showing you."

Ethan spotted the marks he left on your neck and his smile widened. You looked so pretty like this. Hair a mess, eyes hooded, and chest heaving. So, fucking pretty for him.

#. ( archived )#the ethan effect #ethan landry x you #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion smut #jack champion #scream smut #scream 6 #scream

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rreids · 20 days

Text

PROGRESS • S. REID X READER

semi-specific spoilers for 2 x 15 and the aftermath (specifically 3 x 16), hurt-comfort, tiny bit of smut (a handjob), probably incorrect information (mention of arousal being different but similar to adrenaline, i have no idea if this is true and refuse to do research), mentions of marriage, ~1.5k

Spencer was strong. You knew that.

You’d been with him every stop of the way through rehabilitation: through the relapses; held his hand and kissed away his tears as he fought the urges and ideas that he was worthless; told him he was stronger than anything and more resilient and beautiful than anyone you’d ever known.

One of his personal choices in his journey to get clean made sex harder — he was trying to learn how to temper all desire and urges, filter through what he deemed wouldn’t hurt or threaten his sobriety before making any impulsive decisions.

You hadn’t minded, content with the soft kisses and tickle of his eyelashes and beard against your skin as he silently thanks you for your care.

You loved his beautiful mind that ran a million miles a minute far more than you loved the pleasure from his body, and you knew you’d wait forever if that’s what it took. You wouldn’t have even cared if it was off the table.

You just wanted Spencer.

It’d been a few months since he decided to get clean, and as much as seeing him sob and writhe as he convinced himself he wasn’t irredeemable for slipping up crushed you every time, you knew it wasn’t about you.

Today was a hard day for him.

“Spence, baby,” you whisper, wiping his tears as he tells you about a recent case — the victim used, and the amount of himself Spencer saw in her terrified him —, lip quivering. “You’re okay. You have that coin, right? The one John gave you?”

He nods, leaning into your palm. He presses a kiss to your wrist and closes his eyes.

“You’ll get there. But struggling is okay. You know that, don’t you?”

Shuddering sobs wrack his body, breaths catching in ways that twist your heart, and you know he’s trying his best to calm down. “But what if I can’t?”

“You will, Spence,” you promise. “It’s worth it. We both know it. And we both know you’re strong enough to make it through this and come out better on the other side,” you kiss his forehead. “Besides, I’m here right alongside you. I won’t ever leave,”

Spencer sobs again, breathing ragged.

“I promise.” You answer his silent question, and he nods.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers out, voice scratchy. “You know that?”

“Well, out of the two of us, I’m not the one with the eidetic memory…” you trail off playfully, just for a moment, not long enough to make him worry. “I could never forget, baby.”

“I miss you,”

“We live together,”

“Not like that,” Spencer sighs. “I miss touching you. Feeling you.”

“You can have me whenever you want,” you promise him, brushing his curls out of his eyes. He was due for a trim, but you thought it was cute. “I’m yours.”

Spencer sighs, pushing past your hands and dropping his head to your shoulder.

“We go at your pace.”

“And if I think I’m ready?”

“Then we do what you’re comfortable with, and if you tap out, we stop. Your pace.”

Spencer nods, almost determined. It’s cute, and you have to fight back a laugh.

You smile despite your efforts, and the first kiss is more you two grinning against each other than a kiss. He takes the lead and slowly deepens it, careful and awkward like the first time you two ever tried to do more than steal pecks and hold hands.

His muscles are tense under you as you ghost your hands to his shoulders, and you gently work them as you kiss him.

“Are you giving me a massage?” He asks, confused and a little breathless.

“If I have to.” You smile, kissing his nose. “Relax, sweetheart. The second you wanna stop, just tap me two times. Nothing you don’t want.”

“Am I that tense?” Spencer tries to focus on muscles and force them to relax, but he’s too tightly wound.

“Would it be better if I give a massage first?” You ask, leaning down and peppering kisses to the side of his neck down to his collarbone. “Let you chill and then I ask before anything progresses?”

Spencer looks down, cheeks burning, and nods.

You don’t comment. He’s embarrassed enough, and you’re just happy to see him opening back up.

Tobias had left scars beyond the dots — that look more like freckles than any lasting trauma now — on his elbow. Though you suppose that was Tobias’s way of saving him from the worse scars from Rafael and Charles. Semantics. None of it mattered when your pretty boy was aching and worried under you.

“Lay down,” you urge, “take off your shirt if you’re ready. I’ll get your lavender lotion,”

It’s his favorite, a gift from his mom. You don’t tell him that he used up the one she gave him, since you dutifully rebuy and refill sneakily enough he doesn’t notice the volume shifting.

When you come back from the bathroom, he’s shirtless, fingers locked together and bracing his head.

“Gonna sit right above your thighs, sweetheart. Lotion’ll be cold,” you warn, and wait until he nods.

Then you settle and gently work through cords and muscles, slowly, patiently, methodically, a whispered warning and praise with every big move or change in pressure.

He melts under you, soft moans falling from his lips as you release pain he didn’t even know he had.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer breathes. “Can you… can you kiss me? Before we do anything,”

He’s curled in on himself a little, and you murmur an “of course” as he sits up and tugs the blanket over his chest. You know he’s never liked the bruises from field-work, but this is something more.

“You know I always find you pretty, right, Spence?” He tilts his head at you. “I don’t care about the ugly moments. You’re my pretty boy. You don’t have to hide anything.”

You stress that last word, and you see it click for him, and he slowly lets the blanket fall.

You kiss a bruise on his shoulder.

“Kiss me, Spencer,” you urge, and he smiles, leaning in and softly melding to you, fingers curling on your waist with practiced movements.

His body remembers, and it makes your heart flutter.

He sighs into your mouth, sweet and gentle. You can feel his pulse racing, his movements getting more excited and clumsy as he kisses down your neck.

“You’re so good, make me feel so, so good.”

Spencer smiles against your skin. “You make me feel good too.”

You know he means it more than physically, but that’s what he needs right now.

And you want to give it to him.

“Can we take your boxers off, Spence?”

He nods eagerly, and you carefully slide his pants off with them, avoiding another bruise on his hip from a tackle on the recent case.

“So pretty,”

And he is. Lean muscle, freckles and moles, tan and pale skin in equal parts, wrinkles, bruises, everything.

His cock, too, weeping pre-cum and a pretty pink at the tip.

“Thank you,” he sighs, gasping as you grasp him and stroke, slow and wet. He sets the pace, fucking into your grip and kissing you sloppily to it.

He’s lost technique, having avoided more intimate touch for so long, but the eagerness and anxiety means more to you than it being perfect.

He tenses again as he gets close, and you know it’s the adrenaline, the high. It feels too much like what he’s been fighting.

“Okay?”

Spencer swallows. “I don’t know,”

“What’s the difference between sexual arousal and adrenaline, baby?”

It distracts him, and it also guides him exactly where you want — that the bodily response may be similar, but the centers it lights up are different; the cause is different; he hasn’t done anything to jeopardize himself, he’s okay. He can let go of some of the control he had to regain, can slowly ease back up.

He’s safe.

He cums, gasping breaths tearing through him. As soon as you work him through it, you pull off and clean him.

“You did so good,” you praise, brushing his curls with your clean hand and stroking the skin on the nape of his neck. “You’re okay,”

Spencer nods and kisses you, no urgency, just the depths of his feelings. “I missed you,”

“I missed you too, Spence,” you try not to let the tears prick your eyes, but you know you fail when he furrows his brow at you. “I’m happy,” you reassure.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I just… I’m glad you feel safe enough to try. You know? It’s hard to watch you struggle.”

“It’s hard for me too,” he laughs, kissing your tears, a reversal of just an hour ago. “But I know what you mean. I’m sorry if it makes it hard for you.”

“No. It doesn’t,” you’re quick and firm in your reassurance. “I mean it when I say I will always be here for you. Good and the bad. In sickness and in health — though, maybe I should keep that unofficial until you put a ring on me.”

He laughs, boyish and free. The happiest he’s been in months. “Soon,”

#my works #mdni #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #cm spoilers #requested

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occamstfs · 2 months

Text

Wouldn't It Be Funny?

Back again with a longer military tf, Hope you enjoy! - Occam

Curtis and Joseph were bored out of their minds. After growing disenchanted with university life the two were well into a gap year and have been finding progressively less stimulating ways to waste away their time. Without assignments piling up and biweekly mandatory lectures they were firmly adrift as the days of the week blur together. Curtis continues scrolling on his phone while Joseph, phone ever-so-recently dead, tries to think of anything to do while it charges back up.

“Wait! I think my brother left a stash of beer last time he visited!” Curtis looks up and squints at his friend, “the best thing you think we could be doing right now is day drinking alcohol your brother left here months ago?” Joseph makes a motion inviting Curtis to produce a better idea which goes unanswered as he rolls his eyes and gets up to accompany Joseph on this ignoble quest.

Joseph leads Curtis to the hall closet where he had apparently thrown everything his brother, Nick, had left after staying over for a couple weeks. There is some deodorant and other toiletries scattered about although the floor, first and foremost however, what catches Curtis’ eye is an army uniform laying in a heap, in the corner of the closet. There is just something about it. Any time he starts to move his attention away from it another question pops into his mind requiring a deeper inspection of the jacket. He wonders how durable the uniform actually is? It looks as if it's never been worn though he knows that Nick has certainly done some training in it. He simply must have a closer look.

Before he could act on that, the jacket he so craved was chucked at him as Joseph found his bottled quarry underneath. “Score! It’s almost full too, we can have two each and rock, paper, scissors over the last one.” Joseph heads to the kitchen well on his way to some palatable lukewarm beers as he continues to chat busily at Curtis. His roommate doesn’t hear him however as the only thing on his mind is the scratchy jacket in his arms.

He almost blushes looking down and feeling it in his arms, quite a bit heavier than he thought it would be. Surely he should toss it back with the rest of Nick’s things but it’s such a nice jacket. Quite a shame it's gone so long just sitting in their unworn. Maybe he’d just toss it on as a prank. Yeah Joseph would love that, seeing his friend in this massive jacket. His body acts quicker than his mind though, swiftly putting it on, pulling the hem down to straighten it out and pulling the sleeves up so you can just see his hands out the end.

Curtis hears his friend opening bottles in the kitchen and grins as he pictures the look on Joseph’s face as he sees him wearing this. He zips it up and struggles to get wrinkles out of the pockets before the grand reveal. No reason to not try and look legit. For it to really be funny it needs to look good. As soon as the thought that this would be funny enters his mind however he has a sharp headache and groans. No longer able to recall the incongruity of the situation as he steps out to see his friend.

Rounding the corner Curtis quickly starts what is meant to be a comedically poor salute but instead executes one with the precision of a machine. This only heightens the comedy of it all from where Joseph is standing however, halfway through a bottle of beer he chokes and spits up the beer all over the counter. He takes a moment to recover from this waste of beer before looking up once more and laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight.

Curtis in turn clenches his fist hard enough to pop a joint as he feels aggressively defensive. Why is his friend laughing at him. His back tenses with more effort than he has sustained in months, and more strength then he has wielded in a lifetime, as he cannot let this slight go unreciprocated. “What’s so funny, Kid.” Joseph looks up to see Curtis with an expression of rage more genuine than any emotion he had seen of his friend in months. It is immediately met with a flinch and a recoil as Joseph can’t bring himself to his friends’ burning gaze, “Jesus Curtis is everything alright? I thought you were doing a joke?”

A Joke? Curtis’ neck spasms breaking him out of his statuesque posture and upon rubbing a neck more muscular than he thought possible, he remembers, of course he was doing a joke! Why else would he be wearing Nick's Jacket! Smiling as he remembers how good it landed, he heads over to his friend, “Sweet you already opened a bottle for me! What’s the move now, did you want to game?”

Joseph, shell-shocked by this return to spirits, assumes that the whole thing was now some shit joke, hands his friend a beer and heads to set up his PS5, “sure whatever dude, can you get the lights?” Which Curtis quickly does, not noticing his arms definitively stretching much further out of the jacket than they should. Waiting for his friend to finish the setup Curtis paces behind the couch, each step louder than the last as he grows less careful of his footing and he continues to ever so slightly grow into this jacket.

“Can you chill dude?”

“Oh! Sorry did-”

“And why are you still wearing my brother’s jacket!”

“Your brothers-” Curtis pauses to look at the name stitched onto his chest and is also shocked that he’s wearing Nick’s jacket though decidedly not for the same reason that Joseph assumed. “Woah sorry kid? I guess I was cold? Do you want me to throw it back in the closet?”

“Just take it off dude! And stop calling me kid,” puffing as he sits back on the couch and starts to play some game Curtis feels like he should recognize before taking off the jacket and heading to put it in the closet. He scratches at his chin as he tries to work out what feels so off right now. Hanging up Nick’s jacket, sure not to leave any creases, he remembers that he’ll probably need to shave soon so he doesn’t get a mark at the next inspection, his rougher hands feeling around his sharper jaw to check the damage.

Returning to the living room he trips over what he assumes is his own feet but is embarrassed to find; Ah! It’s his jacket! Thank god he let his discipline slack here and not back at base. He picks it up as Joseph turns around hearing the stumble and begins to hurry him back before instead asking, “did you do something with your hair?” To which Curtis tilts his head like a dog before Joseph shouts once more, “Dude! Are you wearing my brother’s socks!?”

“No of course not they would never fit.” He says looking down to see the same army green socks he always wears, not Nick’s. “Well my feet do seem larger than I thought they were.” continuing as he bends down to inspect his feet, Joseph scrambles over to do similarly, though neither notices as they slowly inch even larger across the carpet. Instead Joseph is immediately thrown for a loop hearing a loud groan from his friend as he stands back up. Now almost a head taller than he was before bending down.

“Fuck dude you’re so tall!” Joseph reaches up to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Curtis was always taller, a fact Joseph was already none too pleased with, but this was ridiculous. He almost has to strain and as he does finally get his arms up he immediately finds thick traps under his friend’s strained shirt, “Asshole! Have you been working out without me!?”

“Of course not. When would I? Or who would I even-”

“I mean, with recruiters right?” Joseph offers forth without the thought even consciously entering his mind. It made no sense to him but it was true. Suddenly it's as if some form of static fills the minds of both the men, a warm static buzzes through Curtis’ mind and body as he starts to unconsciously put the newly reclaimed uniform back on himself. Joseph experiences something far harsher in his own mind, the static is unbearably cold and punishing. He claws at his head, no longer able to hold two ideas of who Curtis is in his mind. And it is clear which reality is prevailing as Curtis slides his thicker arms into the jacket, flexing to make sure his uniform is fitting just right.

As he begins to zip up the jacket his pecs begin to make themselves well more than apparent. His decidedly larger nipples poking out as the apparently nylon shirt hugs his defined chest and he struggles to get the zipper closed without being uncomfortably tight on his pecs before deciding to just leave it unzipped for now. “Why would I be working with recruiters, lil’ dude?” He looks confused at his friend, or his friend’s little brother? Before smirking and seizing the chance, “If anything you’re the one who should be working with them, gotta be bigger than that to join up with us!” He puts a hand on Joseph’s head messing with his hair, jolting Joseph back to this new reality.

“Curtis! Do you not think something weird is happening here!”

“Oh? Did your brother not tell you I go by Curt?”

“My brother? Fuck dude! It’s his jacket! You’re wearing his jacket again!”

“Ah no lil’ dude this one here is mine, check it!”

Joseph looks at the clear name tag on his chest clear as day with Curt’s last name on it, not noticing as he seamlessly uses Curt’s apparent preferred name. Instead he stares at a symbol over the center of Curt’s chest clearly also different than the one on his brother’s uniform. Curt smirks as he points to it himself, “Impressed kid? I’m already a Private First Class, not too hard to outpace Nick though. I mean love the guy but come on! Show some hustle! We enlisted together for a reason dude!”

Suddenly Joseph feels that this statement was a bridge too far. He feels a pit in his chest as he feels he has just lost something greater than he can understand going to slap the exemplar of a man in front of him, “Snap out of it!” Before even nearing a strike however his wrist is snatched out of the air and held fast above his head. Curt stares daggers into Joseph at this sign of aggression, this challenge. His eyes darken as his stubble grows out even more. Joseph feels Curt’s grip grow even darker watching as the hair on his arms darkens spreading out from the sleeves. He brings in Nick’s little bro closer to his face as his warm, heaving breaths distract Joseph from the pain in his upheld wrist before he lets go and guffaws, “You’ve gotta be quicker than that kid if you want to enlist with us! Where is your brother anyway? ‘S why I came over right?”

Joseph is perplexed as Curt lets him go, also unsure as to why this mammoth of a man is in his living room. They are quickly assuaged as Curt gets a text from Nick. “Oh you need a ride did ya kid? No problem! He just wants you to bring over the jacket he left over here and we’ll head on out.” Curt struggles to shove his feet in his combat shoes before finding himself distracted as the shoes push out to fit his ever larger feet.

Joseph’s mind remains a battlefield but it is clear which side is soon to rout as he heads to the closet where he just wanted to grab some beer. Inside he finds not only his brother's jacket, expertly hung, but a second one that looks almost supernaturally comfortable. He pauses before reaching out, feeling an existential aversion to the jacket hanging in his closet. before there’s a brisk breeze through the house and he shivers. Joseph quickly grabs his brothers and slides into the latter jacket, a tad too big but the world around him feels much warmer now that he has it on.

After suiting up Joseph quickly rushes back to his brother’s friend, quite wanting to make a good impression on the private first class. As he rushes his footsteps quickly grow in volume as his tennis shoes thicken into pristine combat shoes and grow far wider as his feet race to keep up, filling their increased space. Barely avoiding tripping over his now massive feet, he sees that Curt is of course not a private at all but his Corporal, as he freezes and salutes. His biceps straining his sleeves as his stained white shirt begins to slowly make room for the soldier’s expanding muscle. “At ease Joe, Let’s go ahead and head on out.”

Curt leads Joe out to his lifted truck and has him get in before loading a few more things into the bed of his truck. There is a load of clearly dirty towels in the back seat as Curt clearly has an issue bringing in laundry after his workouts. Although he doesn’t make it a habit of driving recruits so it’s not usually an issue. Sitting in the musky cabin does immediately cause issues for Joe however, as he puts the seatbelt on he feels his body start to expand in every direction it can. His pecs push against both his shirt and the seatbelt. He pulls his tight shirt down, straining it to the brim as he feels a sudden itch in his crotch. His hand already down there and finding it impossible to bring his attention anywhere else he sees his bulge push out, almost doubling in size as he scratches his increasingly overgrown pubes. He struggles to cover the impossible to miss bulge forcing his brother’s jacket over his crotch, the added pressure and warmth overwhelms him as Curt notices from outside

Curt watches as his new recruit’s shoulders broaden and his jaw widens. He slightly shifts in his seat, almost gyrating, running the hand not shoved in his pants through his hair, leaving behind a respectable high and tight demanded of any respectable recruit.

Curt slowly opens the door giving the recruit the briefest of chances to at least perform decency. Immediately wrenching the hand from his pants to salute, shouting “Sir!” towards his Corporal, eyes growing deathly serious as he touches a visibly sweat covered hand to his brow. Curt’s eyes glint as he notices the action flung Nick’s jacket off and exposed Joe’s still expanding bulge and unzipped pants. The two feel a hunger starting to grow in their chests as Curt hops into the driver's seat. Adjusting his rear view as he juts up once more in height, his jacket making it apparent to all he is now a sergeant, Curt begins to drive off towards the base.

Curt puts his hand on Joe’s inner thigh, overstimulating the private who roughly clenches his jaw trying to keep it together. He feels pre start to soak through Joe’s fatigues as he starts to rub his thigh. Grunting as he too feels a powerful stirring in his crotch, his cock forcing itself further down his leg. “Wouldn’t want to stop at my place first, would ya’ Joe?” Joe stares at the sergeant ahead of him with a lust deeper than the can understand, and a hunger to grow even larger. Curt chuckles, “gotta release some of this energy before we break the new to Nick anyway.” He turns his car and begins to race towards his apartment on the base.

As the heat in the car begins to fog up the windows the two men could not remember anything besides who they were since joining the army. After an anything but quick fuck, they would get back to work on the base. Curt distracts himself as he commands his troops and Joe gets ready for his promotion ceremony, ready to rub it in his brother’s face that he was already going to be higher ranked. The two follow orders flawlessly as they always have, performing their duties with rigor. The only thing more present on their minds than dedication to their fellow soldiers being the excitement for the next time they are to fuck.

#masculinization #mental change #male tf #army tf #male transformation #muscle tf #reality change

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alientee · 2 months

Text

This is a 3 shot series inspired by the amazing writer @gyoongim. They did amazing with my ask and I’m in love with Alastor x Jessica rabbit .🤣

Fun fact It’s said that Jessica rabbit is also asexual!

Charlie felt defeated, she tried her hardest but there wasn’t shit she could do against that damn Adam or the council. Sera took pity on her stopping her for a moment “Charlie…… while you were not successful maybe we can come to a compromise?”

Charlie looked back up with her with hope in her eyes while Vaggie continues to glare.

“How about this we send an angel down with you, they spend a day in your hotel and we get to learn about all your progress. Maybe that will help sway the masses and myself.

Charlie instantly nodded thanking them over and over again. “So where’s the angle joining us”

“Emily has gotten her….. ah there they are”

Emily bounced forward happily introducing you

“Charlie this is y/n she’s one of the angels that actually believe In your cause!”

Sera looked down at you giving you a stern look.

“You’ll stay there for 1 day and then come right back y/n. Stay safe and good luck”

You walk into the portal with Charlie and Vaggie leading to the hotel. The demon princess didn’t stop talking about how she was going to give you a tour, show you everything they have to offer, even take you to the few nice places in hell. She started to ask you questions. She seemed really sweet and excited to get to know you. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous, you’re like wow!”

You giggled. “Thank you hun I used to turn a lot of heads when I was alive. Too bad I only had eyes for one man.”

Charlie looked even more excited “ Oh my gosh tell me everything!”

You went on and on about your past, how you were a singer and a model, how you were married to a radio host. How you got married and ended up retiring to be a housewife. You stopped your story when you ended up in front of a hotel looking around shocked.

“So this is hell huh? Now tell me more about the hotel”

Charle links her arm with yours pushing the doors of the hotel open. “This is the hazbin hotel! Were we have 2 residents ready to rehabilitate and reform there life into good! It may not look like much but I garuntee you everyone here is dedicated to making there life better!”

Vaggie scoffed “not everyone”

“Okay almost everyone hehe” Charlie rubbed her neck nervously.

You look around and see the interior with a scary looking bar there were a couple of demons one looks like a spider the other a snake, two cyclops and the last one was…. a bird cat?

“Everyone this is y/n! She’s gonna be staying with us for the day to prove to heaven that demons can change!”

They all introduce themselves and the spider named angel comes up to you, looking you up and down. “ Beautiful and Busty they should’ve never sent you down here toots! Now you can give me a run for my money”

You laugh it off giving him a wink “I’m a tough lady I can handle myself. It’s nice to meet y’all”

Charlie gives you a tour of the hotel and you meet up with group once more “So what do you think y/n!”

“I think y’all have something really nice going on here”

“Thank you-“

“Charlotttttteeee~ why is there an angel in our premises didn’t I tell you the couldn’t be trusted”

You turned around at the sound at the static like voice.

“Y/N… is that you?”

Alastor still keeps his signature smile but his eyes are wide with confusion. He walks up to you pulling you into his chest. Alastor kisses both your cheeks putting his forhead against yours. “It’s me mon amor”

“Alastor!? Honey you look so different and your smile is even bigger than I remember”

“Well you know you’re not fully dressed without a smile. Y/n darling what are you doing here? Someone sweet as you doesn’t belong down here”.

You hold him close snuggling into his chest “oh Al it’s alright I’m just here to see the hotel on behalf of the council. I missed you so much ! What are you doing here honey ? I was so confused when I never met you in heaven what on earth got you down here?”

Alastor looks away sheepishly “Well about that-“

“UM EXCUSE ME!”

You both turn around to see everyone looking at you both in shock. After a long silence Charlie speaks up.

“So you two know eachother huh”

You looking at everyone shyly “You remember how I said I was married to a radio host”

Alastor smirked pulling his arm around your waist. “This gorgeous gal has had my heart since I first laid eyes on her” He kisses your forhead

None of them could believe it! You were Alastor’s wife?!

Vaggie moves forward while everyone else is looking at you in shock. “Hold on, wait a minute let me get this straight. You! A gorgeous, kind hearted, helpful angel…… are married to that thing?!”

Alastor squints his eyes his static going off “what are you trying to say Vaggatha”

Angel interrupts her before she could speak

“ it means she’s waaaayyyyy out of your league smiles. I mean Vaggies right, she’s hot and your….anyway, how and the hell did a dame like you end up with old freak face anyway?”

Alastor rolls his eyes “ I won her affections with my charm and manners. Something you clearly don’t have my feminine fellow”

Angel looks at him uninterested “yea I ain’t buying that. Toots why you with this stuck up prude?”

You hold alastor arm cuddling up to his side “He makes me laugh, how could I turn him down when he always put a smile on my face” you giggle softly

Everyone was still shocked by your answer none of them could really see someone like you with someone like alastor but decided to accept it (everyone accept Angel and Vaggie) Angel smirks

“Ok so I was right it definitely wasn’t for his looks”

“Well beauty isss in the eye of the beholder, I guesss he jussst got lucky”

Alastor rolls his eyes “Are you miscreants quite done”

“Now we always know why Mr fancy talk creepy voice is always smiling. Thinking about his busty wife gets him through the day haha”

“Angel dust if you wish to redeem your soul and make it into heaven I suggest you watch your mouth before I end your life.”

“Oh Al leave him be he’s just joking, now tell me why your down here”

Alastor sighs giving you his arm. You grab it not questioning it as he walks you both to the door. He doesn’t even look back at the others .

“I’m talking my wife for a walk we’ll be back shortly”

As the two of you walk out everyone stays silent until Angel speaks up. “I don’t care what any of you’s say, he was definitely not hitting that right”

As you both leave Alastor stays silent. You don’t rush him to talk, you never did. You two never fought when you were alive you always talked it out and took it one step at a time.

“You should know that I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t want to hurt you or scare you. You were the only good thing I had left after my mother. So I hope you can forgive me for keeping it from you.”

“Go on hon I’m listening”

“The bayou serial killer, that was me doll….i died getting shot in the head with a rifle, being mistaken for a deer while I was burying a body. And I may of…. ate a few people, but they were never in your food!”

You looked at him in shock but you never let go of his arms. “Oh my gosh….. that’s what you were doing out there, they never told me, just said it was a hunting accident….. I should’ve known! You would always go one these nature trips at night when ya barley had friends plus I shoulda known someone like you doesn’t like outdoor activities like that! How ya wouldn’t let me in your tool shed because it was to much “dangerous” stuff in there. How you’d come home from the radio tower early hours in the morning. I thought you were stepping out on me for a time but you still showed me all the same amount of affection so I pushed that thought out the window”

Alastor laughed a laugh track playing in the back ground “Oh daring why would I ever step out on the most beautiful woman in the world. I’d be a fool to have eyes for anyone but you”

He squeezed your hips pulling you into a hug “Do you regret marrying me, please tell the truth?”

“Oh Al of course not, even if you are a killer you were so sweet and gentle with me I’ve never felt safer than when I was with you. Your a wonderful husband I’ll never regret you honey ”

Alastor pulled you close his smile getting wider. “How about I make it up to you darling let me take you out on the town, it’s been a while and you deserve to be spoiled doll.”

“I’d love that Alastor”

You both walked down the street in silence with you both linked arm and arm as always. Until Alastor spoke up again”

“And by the way sweetheart Tu portes l'enfer hors de cette robe, j'ai raté ces courbes”

You blushed “Still a charmer I see”

Part 2 comming soon~

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x you

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theveesbf · 1 month

Text

The Vees X Reader using the silent treatment

︴Notes - Hey everyone!! This was an idea that a friend of mine gave me, and I needed to write because she was beginning to like the Vees so like 😁😁 anyways I hope y'all enjoy it!

︴Content - Headcanons of Vox, Velvette and Valentino X Reader who used the silence treatment after a fight.

Vox doesn't like to have the feeling his the wrong one, so after fighting with you he expects you to be the one reaching out to him.

But you just don't.

Vox waits for you the whole day, and you never show up to even say a good morning!

When he finds you watching TV, he goes to talk to you, but the fact that you ignore him makes Vox freeze.

I mean, he was never really ignored, and the fact you, as his partner, did this was like denying candy to a spoiled child.

He spent a whole 10 minutes trying to talk to you and no matter what he said you didn't even looked at his face for a single moment.

Vox was almost losing his sanity as he decided to say the one thing he knew was going to destroy his ego.

He remembered that earlier that day you asked Vox to go out with you, but he told you he was busy.

Obviously you said that he was always working and that 10 minutes wouldn't make his business go down.

He just ignored you and continued working, without even saying no again.

Knowing what happened he decided to apologize to you.

"Listen uh, I'm... I'm sorry okay? I should've considered your feelings more."

The moment he finished saying you turned around to look at him with a smile.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it? But I forgive you Vox. "

That's how Vox never ignored you anymore without a good reason.

Velvette sometimes doesn't even notice that what she says can hurt people.

And that includes you. She wasn't really used to dating someone and this made her be a bit insensitive sometimes.

Velvette never pays attention to what she says until she went to talk to you and you just, ignored her.

She was so confused, she thought you didn't heard what she said.

But when she already repeated the same thing 5 times, Velvette knows you're doing it on purpose.

And she has no fucking idea on why!

That fact already makes her stressed all day because you never even glanced at her.

So she tried to remember everything that happened all day that could've made you like that.

That's when Velvette remembered that she told you how your outfit didn't match at all and it was really ugly. And she didn't saw how sad you got when she said that.

"Hey honey, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't noticed that what I said was hurtful."

Velvette is definetly the one who tries the best to apologize to you, even if it hurts a bit inside lmao.

You wanted no time on hugging her when she finished it.

"I forgive you Vel, just try to watch your words better 'kay?"

Velvette only laughed it off, and every time you ignored her, she knew that she had to try harder on thinking before speaking.

Valentino can have a hard time respecting people's boundaries, and even if he tries his best with you, it's still... In progress.

Especially with how easily angry he gets. Valentino can't take a no without getting annoyed.

Of course, with you it's better, he actually tries to be a good partner for you.

But sometimes he let his emotions take over him, which leads to situations like this.

Valentino was going to kiss you and be all clingy to you, but he was hella confused when you walked past him.

He quickly walked to your direction to ask you what happened but you never took your eyes off the cellphone.

Even when he grabbed it off your hand, you just kept walking. And that made him both confused and mad.

He tried a lot of things but you never talked to him, until he remembered what had happened earlier.

Val was stressed and that made him yell at you when you got inside his studio without asking him first.

He never says sorry, so apologising to you was a bit awkward.

"Amorcito, please don't be mad at me. I was just stressed, you didn't asked me to go there. Can you forgive me Amor?"

His apology was definetly a bit weird but you knew that's just how he was, and you kissed him before answering.

"Of course Val, just try to be more patient next time."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin #the vees x reader #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #vox x reader #the vees #valentino #vox #velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vox #valentino hazbin hotel

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aleestor · 3 months

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New arrival

Lee!alastor ler!lucifer

As of last week, lucifer had moved into the Hazbin Hotel! And whilst it was going amazing for everyone, Alastor wasn't so pleased with the whole situation. He thought that lucifer didn't need to be there because he already had a home, but Charlie was persistent, and how could he say no?

Alastor was just standing at the top of the stairs, leaning against the banister, just watching husk and angel chat about their day. Suddenly, he heard something behind him, but he wasn't afraid so he just waited for it to show itself. And it did.

"Alastor! My man!" Lucifer yelled right to Alastors' ear, making him jerk to the side and rub his ear.

"Hello lucifer." He sighed, "what do you want?"

"Hey! There's no need to be so harsh, I just wanted to get to know ya a little better seeing as I'll be living here with you," he giggled.

"Hmm, no," Alastor said coldly, turning his back on lucifer.

"That's no way to speak to the king of Hell!"

"..." no reply from Alastor.

"Oh come on! You have to speak to me."

"..." once again, zero reply.

"Alastor!" Lucifer yelled again near his ear, forcing him to jerk away and rub his ear again. But alas, still no reply. As he had hoped, Lucifer was getting preeetty annoyed, so he took matters into his own hands, quite literally.

"You're just gonna ignore me, huh?" Still no reply, "Fine, let's see how long you last Mr Tough Guy"

Confused, Alastor went to look towards lucifer, but he was gone? Then, Alastor felt something scratching gently on his ear, making him go crazy.

Ah. Lucifer.

"What the fuhuck do you think you're dohoing?!"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know but quihit it!"

"I think it's cute! I've never heard you genuinely laugh before, this is adorable!"

"Excuhuse meHEHE?!" Alastors laughter went up an octave as lucifer went down, wiggling his fingers in the crook of his neck.

"Awww. Is your neck too ticklish? For a Radio Demon, I must say you are very ticklish!"

"STOHOP!" He laughed as he tried to cover his mouth but it was no use, his laughter was too loud.

"What happens if I go... here?" Suddenly, lucifers' hands shot down to Alastors ribs, making him squeal and collapse on the floor.

"Fuhuck yohou luhucifeher" He said, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"My God you are so fucking ticklish."

Alastors cheeks grew slightly red as he got up and brushed himself off.

"Shut up." He said, walking slowly away.

"Oh, I'm not done, Alastor!" Lucifer said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back, leading them both to the floor, the perfect position. They wrestled for a minute before lucifer ended up straddling Alastor by a quick poke to his ribs, giving him the advantage.

"Lucifer! Don't you dare."

"Oh, I dare"

Lucifer clawed his hands and vibrated them on the sides of Alastors ribs, targeting each individual bone.

"nohOHOHOHO!" Alastor shrieked and squirmed, but it was no help in trying to escape the tickly heaven hell.

Lucifer looked in awe. How could the meanest Radio Demon in town be so fucking adorable? His laugh was so bubbly and happy... He had a real smile on his face, not that copy pasted one, but a real. Happy. Smile.

"You are fucking adorable" Lucifer exclaimed as he watched Alastor get progressively more red in the face.

"SHUHUT UHUP!"

"Hm...no!"

"BIHITCH!"

*gasp* "you did not just call lucifer himself a bitch! I think you need some punishment." Lucifer unclawed his hands and removed them from alastors body, giving him a minute to breathe before pinning his arms with his knees and blowing raspberries all over his ribs whilst gently scribbling and scratching all over his neck.

This pretty quickly sent poor old Alastor into hysterics. The mixture of soft, gentle tickles and the vibrations of the raspberries were heaven torture for him.

"PLEHEASE!"

Alastor begged as his laughter went silent. At the plea, lucifer stopped instantly and got off him, sitting next to him.

Alastor was still a cute little puddle of giggles on the floor, trying to get rid of the ghost Tickles left over.

"Can I help?"

Alastor nodded and stayed still whilst lucifer rubbed all of the phantom Tickles away.

"You alright?"

"Yeah..."

"Did I go too hard?"

"No! It was uh...nice..." He said shyly as he brushed himself off and walked away for real this time but ran back upstairs and hid when he realised that everyone had watched him get his shit wrecked. In his books however, it was worth it. But he would NEVER tell lucifer.

Au: this took like fucking two hours 😭 I hope you guys like it because weirdly proud?

#lee!alastor #ler!lucifer #alastor tickle #hazbin hotel tickle #sfw tickle #sfw tickle fic #sfw tickle community

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todostiddies · 4 months

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Eren Boyfriend Headcanons pt 2

Modern Eren headcanons for GNreader, a continuation of pt 1

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

Texts you goodnight and good morning without fail, but sometimes the good morning texts come at like 12am bruh

He will buckle your seat belt for you

He will open the door for you and if you forget to buckle right away he'll just tell you to scoot over and do it for you before buckling his own

Thinks it's funny to tighten your hood around your face randomly

Absent-mindingly tracing hearts and shapes on you while cuddling

Will call you brat, which he started as a joke to make fun of Levi and now it is unironically a part of his vocabulary much to his dismay

He thinks you being hangry is the adorable even if you're a total demon because of it, in fact, the meaner you get the cuter because he can just poke all the more fun at you when he buys you food and you immediately switch up all sheepishly (which he also loves)

An extra careful driver with you in the car which can then lead to some road rage towards others who aren't, but it never goes past a mean look, the bird, and a couple insults in the privacy of the car. He also deffo does that hot arm hold to you when he brakes too hard and he'll give a little cheeky smile and apology after

Will play Pokemon Go with you and go on Pokemon Go dates where you guys walk the routes and go on hikes or walks around the city to catch pokemon and he always buys you snacks and lunch/dinner during srry but im still in my pokemon go phase

His favorite pokemon is Psyduck

yknow that video where some womans boyfriend/husband was covering the sharp edge of a table while she was on the verge of bumping into it all distracted?? Yeah, that's him. He will cover corners for you and always makes sure you won't clumsily hurt yourself and will watch your step for you depending on how clumsy you are

but at the same time he is constantly trying to trip you and shoves into you with his whole body while walking and tries to push you into puddles like a child

He is fiercely loyal of all of his loved ones and has/will fight anyone on sight for them, as we all know, but he is also very protective of their dreams

He keeps tracks of all his friends and familys most treasured goals/dreams and behind the scenes he is also helping make them come true if he can and/or congratulating them on their progress that no one else may notice and he even will send related things to them like articles or posts

so naturally, things you're really passionate about he will look into and maybe even get into it too

I feel like his mom would have enrolled Eren and Mikasa as junior life guards, she did amazing and really liked it and Eren had fun and was good but didn't care to do it again. Armin went to the wave/beach every day just to hang out with them still, and sometimes Eren abandoned duty or snuck away during a lesson to pick seashells with him

Speaking of, Eren has a mini seashell collection from him and Armin picking them together. He dates each seashell and has given you a couple that he thought you'd like

Because of the whole lifeguard thing, he knows CPR and some basic first aid and the friend group always goes to him if they need extra medical help and he goes straight into his rare mom mode

Him and Mikasa kissed once in a 7 minutes of heaven game in freshmen year of high school, and afterwards decided they were better as friends and never even told Armin until a drunken night of confessions between the three senior year, the night before graduation

He will and has sacrificed himself in little ways for his friends and family, and would do so in bigger ways if the situation ever called for it

He LOVES kissing you

Kisses every morning, before leaving, coming home, when he's bored, when he's excited, when he's sad, all of it. He could be leaving from the dinner table to go to the bathroom and would still kiss you goodbye

He loves making out with you and puts on a romantic playlist he made when you guys hang out and make out in his car he's so cheesy but in a cool way

He thinks you don't realize it's the same playlist but it only has like six songs that just repeat and you have to wrestle him to make you a partner on the playlist so you could add more

When a song you added comes up he'll stop whatever yall are doing just to tell you it was a good choice lmao

He likes flavored Chapstick, but his favorite is vanilla

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

#a girl can dream #even if these dreams are crippling to my mental health because he isn't real #lmao #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren headcanons #eren headcannons #modern au #modern eren #aot fic #eren fluff #boyfriend eren #aot headcanons #eren x you

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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 6 months

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No Plan [ The Still of Your Hand ]

Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman ( Briefly ), Reader Rating: E Word Count: 4,874 Warnings / Tags: Medical trauma (brief), phantom limb syndrome, medical talk, Reader is the ship's doctor, Dom!Reader (surprise), Shanks needs a break Author's Note: This is 13 pages of smut with some plot. I hope you enjoy. Also, my requests are open if y'all want anything... Specific. MDNI: THIS IS 18+ CONTENT.

Part II of the Think I Need Someone Older series [ Part I: Mihawk ] ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sweetheart, give me a hand, yeah?” Shanks called out, drawing your attention away from the journal you’d been writing in- tracking your progress in logs as you sailed with the infamous Red Hair Pirates. You weren’t necessarily a permanent part of the crew- moreso, they were a means to your end. You abandoned your journal for the time being, rising from your seat on the deck of the ship to cross over to the captain. Restocking from the last port you’d docked at; he’d opened up a box of medical supplies.

Another reason you were here- to play temporary doctor while their own was laid up.

“Sure, sure. Make me do all the hard work,” you teased, grabbing hold of the box of rubbing alcohol- ten glass bottles. He’d paid a pretty price for these supplies, you noted. “‘S like you got a mini hospital runnin’ on this ship.”

“I like to be prepared, love.” He shrugged, lips curving into a wide grin. It’s not a big surprise, really; after what he’d gone through over the years, of course he’d want to be prepared. You never know when a Neptunian is going to rise out of the water and take a bite out of you.

You turned, shuffling your way into the small room that was used as a med bay as he followed after, a box tucked against his side. You could hear Roux laughing through the wall; the kitchen was on the other side. No doubt, he was bothering Benn while cooking up the crew’s dinner for the evening. You’d never tasted better cooking than what Lucky Roux could make. “Are we expecting to be overrun?” You couldn’t help but joke, drawing a laugh out of the other. “I mean, granted- your supplies were low when I joined you.”

“We’re not the best at keeping up with supplies-”

“-that aren’t liquor? Yeah, I’ve noticed.” A roll of the eyes as you lean over at the waist, sliding the remaining bottles into a cabinet.

Shanks paused, hand raised, sterile cloth clutched in hand as he watched you. He couldn’t deny the lust that coursed through him when he thought of you; the way you’d bite back at the comments from the crew with no hesitation. How you’d stood up to Benn when he’d questioned your decision regarding the treatment of Yasopp’s latest injury. How you hadn’t minced your words when talking to himself. You had a spine of steel and a bite to match. And by the Gods, he liked that. Not to mention the view you were giving right now. His gaze traced over the dip in your spine, the way you stretched forward, how your thighs spread-

You rose.

His gaze averted quickly, placing the sterilized cloth in a container. “We like to drink.” He mumbled, a feeling of almost shame washing over him. It was broken though by a phantom pain racing through where his left arm would have been. A gasp spills free from between clenched teeth, his brows drawing inward as he drops the box, grasping at the stub that remained. He could swear he could feel his hand in that moment- or what it would feel like, clenched into a tight fist.

“Shanks-” You murmured, reaching out to settle a hand on his remaining arm, brows raised in alarm and worry. “Shanks, sit down- you’re pale.”

“‘M fine,” he tried to argue, yet allowed you to lead him to sit on the edge of the cot. It took your hand against his chest for him to lay back, drawing shallow breaths in. This was… Not normal, necessarily. Sure, he’d gotten phantom pains on occasion, but it had been months since the last occurrence. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“I know. But it’s also time to change out those bandages, right?” You offered a small, disarming smile. The bandages prevented the skin from growing agitated and raw due to the salt in the air- and the water. “C’mon, old man. Let me see.”

“Old man?” He scoffed, shaking his head as he let the coat fall from his shoulders. “I’m not that much older than you… Am I?” His lips pursed into a frown as he considered his age. He’d only just turned thirty-eight, he wasn’t that old. Hell, by the standards of the men on his ship- and the men and women he’d sailed with in the past- he was still young!

“You’ve got a good few years on me,” you hummed, winking playfully as you turned your attention to the tied sleeve. Without thinking, you reached forward, gripping the edges of his shirt- only to have his hand reach out quickly, grasping your wrist. You looked up, meeting a playful crimson gaze and a slowly growing smirk.

“Now, if ye wanted me out of my clothes that badly, all ye needed to do was ask.” Shanks teased, a soft edge of a growl to his voice that had your heart skipping a beat. Oh. Oh, you totally understood how men and women alike fell under him with ease.

“That’s not-” You argued, only to huff and tug his shirt up- and over his head, covering his face. “Smother.”

“Oy, oy!” He laughed loudly, reaching up to tug the shirt the rest of the way over his head. Torso revealed, he leaned back against the inclined bed casually, grin spread across his lips. “Happy, Doc?”

“You’re insufferable.” You rolled your eyes before setting to removing the old bandages. You’d heard the story about how he had lost the arm, but it was still riveting to think of. A Neptunian- and he survived. Whoever had handled the care when it occurred had done a damn good job. “Are you still having the phantom pain now?”

“No.” Shanks sighed, looking over to study your hands. “Not now that I can-... Well, see.”

“Right.” You hummed, careful with your touches. “You’re staring.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Why’s that?”

“... Anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?”

“Yep. Tons.” You grinned cheekily as you began to rewrap the amputated appendage. “Though, I’ll gladly hear it from you more often, if you’d be so kind.”

“Did you paint your nails?” His question caught you off guard.

You tied off the knot before pulling your hands back to study. You had painted them the night before, a vivid shade of ruby. You showed your hands to your Captain, who watched your every movement like a hawk. How… Curious. “I did. Do you like them?”

He reached up, grasping one to draw it closer- before he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “I think the color is… Very flattering.” He spoke against your knuckles, the rasp of his voice stirring the coals of want. Your voice felt stuck in your throat as his stubble scraped gently against your fingers. “Such beautiful hands…”

The sound of footsteps broke you both apart, Shanks not dropping your hand but sitting upright. You, however, pulled your hand back as Benn appeared, a brow raised as he studied you. “Logs?”

“Ah, shite.” Shanks sighed, grabbing hold of his shirt to tug back on, followed by the coat. “Fine, fine. I dunno what I’d do without you, Benn.”

“Be in trouble.” Benn commented with a knowing smirk, meeting your gaze over Shanks’ head. “Yasopp also wants to know where the box is with his ammo.”

“It’s a box. Marked ammunition.” You grumbled, tossing the scraps of bandage into the trash, hiding the way your cheeks had flushed at being caught. But nothing had happened. Nothing- except for Shanks holding your hand to his lips, except for the needy rasp in his voice, except for the way he’d looked at you as if he wanted to devour you on the spot.

Your captain wanted you.

You wanted him.

What a dangerous game.

You ducked out after Benn, crossing over to the forecastle deck, retrieving your journal and inkwell from the box you’d set them in- to save them from sliding about deck. You couldn’t remember what you had been writing, too flustered over what had just occurred. Swallowing roughly, you focused instead on the horizon- on the gathering clouds. A storm? The wind had shifted, rain cooled. It would be a rough night, it seemed, unless the ship was able to skirt the storm.

It was a storm. A nasty one that had all hands on deck. You yelled over to Yasopp, only for your voice to be drowned out in the sound of waves crashing onto the deck. You cursed as you grabbed onto the railing. Even on the edges of it, the sea had turned against you for the night. Shanks stood at the wheel, shouting commands as he steered the ship into the angered waves. Roux grabbed your arm and dragged you below deck; there was only so much you yourself could do in this situation. It was better to stay below and wait it out with a few others of the crew.

You felt the bow rise high, watched as barrels rolled and boxes slid or fully toppled over, before the bow crashed and the stern rose. Into the waves, Shanks had said. That was the safest way to ride this out. If they went with the waves, the keel would break, and everyone would drown.

You weren’t sure how long it was until the ocean settled. Long enough that you had managed to find a space where you wouldn’t fall over with each rock of the ship. You rose to your feet, stretching with a grimace as you wandered from your hiding spot. Something was tugging at the back of your mind, leading you through the ship. You found your destination in the form of the Captain’s Quarters. A glance behind you showed that the sun hadn’t risen yet; the moon was still in the sky, though steadily falling towards the horizon. But light spilled from beneath the door, signifying that Shanks was still awake. You knocked, waiting-

“Enter!” He called, voice muffled by the heavy wood.

You opened the door, stepping in before closing it behind yourself. “You’re still awake.”

“Unfortunately.” He offered a weary smile; the shadows beneath his gaze showing just how exhausted he was. He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Wanted to make sure we’d be clear of the storm.”

“It’s to our southeast now,” you made your way over, leaning your hip against the desk. “You need to rest, Cap.”

“Too wound up, now.” A vague gesture about; you understood that. Adrenaline in the system weaned away, leaving nothing but anxiety and muscles tensed too tightly to relax.

Your fingers tapped upon the wood, drawing his attention once more. You didn’t notice at first, until he didn’t say anything else. No followup quip. Head tilting, you studied Shanks as he watched your hand, enraptured by the movement of your fingers. An idea came to mind, one wicked enough to prompt blood to rush to the surface of your cheeks, to have your thighs squeezing together at the mere thought.

“Let me help you.”

“Pardon?” He pulled his gaze away, watching as you moved around the edge of the desk, stepping closer to him. He pushed his seat back, gaze roving over your form, drinking in how you looked in the golden light of the oil lamp. Hair slightly mused from the little sleep you’d gotten, bottom lip swollen from you biting it. “How?”

“You need to… Relax, yes?” You didn’t settle on his lap like he’d been expecting- but rather, you stood behind him, hands resting upon his shoulders. “Let me help you relax. Take away some of this awful tension you’ve been keeping.” Your fingers dug into the muscle beneath, drawing out a pleased groan as his head dropped forward. “Gods, Shanks- you’ve got more knots than the ratlines.”

A humored chuckle escaped, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he straightened up a touch, leaning into your touch more as your thumbs dug into his shoulders, drifting closer to his neck. He exhaled slowly, the subtle rumble of a groan coloring the sound. The sound drew a shudder across your skin; this was dangerous. But you couldn’t stop, even as one of your hands settled around his throat, the other under his chin, prompting his head to tilt back. Auburn tresses shifted back with the movement, baring the scars that laid across his eye- and the hunger within his gaze, pupils blown. You squeezed against his throat for a moment, pressing in at the sides rather down against the windpipe-

He moaned.

Eyes falling shut, mouth dropping open, the sound spilling forth like music to your ears.

“I can reach better in bed.” Your voice was barely above a murmur as you retracted your hands, watching as his gaze snapped open at the loss of touch. “If you want more.”

“Please.” He breathed, rising slowly to turn towards you. Shanks was a tall man, towering over your form. He reached out, cupping your cheek as he leaned down. His lips met yours in a slow, languid kiss; no rush to it, but the heat had your knees buckling, reaching up to take hold of his shoulders. “Please,” he repeated into the kiss, backing you against the window frames, pressing into you. He hungered for you, you realized: his kiss was full of the same kind of greed a man starved would harbor. You pulled back, only to graze his lower lip with your teeth.

“Go,” you whispered, watching the way he grinned, turning away to saunter into his room. His shirt was tugged off and tossed to the side carelessly. You didn’t undress, not yet- though, you did unlace your boots and kick them aside before following. You had a plan for this- a plan to help your beloved captain relax.

To release the tension that ate at him.

“On the bed.” You ordered, watching as he paused. “Did I stutter?”

“No.” He answered quickly, shaking his head as he made his way to the bed. It was certainly fit for a captain- large enough to fit four, with bedsheets that you were certain cost more than you had on your person. Shanks grinned as he climbed onto the bed, settling on his knees in the center. “Aren’t you going to undress?”

“Not yet,” you smiled sweetly as you approached, steps slow- measured. He was already nearly bursting at the seams- quite literally, you noticed by the way his trousers strained at the front. “I have an idea. You’ll let me take care of you, won’t you?” Your lip fell into a subtle pout as you reached out, cupping his cheeks as he shuffled closer, leaning into your touch as it trailed from his cheeks, to his jaw, to the base of his throat. “You’ll let me ease your worries, yes?”

“Yes,” he breathed, lips parting as your hands smoothed over his chest, taking a moment to massage his pecs. His lips titled up in a smile.

“You’ll let me,” you began, hands settling on his hips, offering a gentle yet firm squeeze before one hand drifted forward, drifting across the bulge that sat prettily for you. He shuddered, eyes falling shut at your touch. “Take away your stress?”

“Yes, please. Please,” oh, he nearly whined as you undid the button of his trousers before tugging them down. You weren’t shocked to see a lack of underwear. Of course not. “Gods, you’re perfect.”

“That’s my boy. Look at you- already hard just from a massage and a kiss. You poor thing!” Cooing, your fingers traced along the prominent vein that sat upon the underside of his cock. Shanks shuddered at the light touch, his eyes falling shut as he shuddered. You couldn’t resist, leaning into pepper kisses along his jawline as you continued your featherlight touches, feeling the way he twitched at the teasing feeling.

His hand reached out almost hesitantly, grasping at the front of your shirt, pulling hard enough on accident to send you both toppling onto the bed. A bark of laughter escaped as he sprawled on his back with you atop him. “Not what I planned, but I like this, too,” he grinned up at you as you pushed yourself up to hover over him. With his red hair splayed out about the sheets, your breath caught in your chest.

Shanks was a remarkable sight. Skin tanned to a warm tone, gaze bright despite the lust that clung to him, the faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, unable to hold yourself back. An appreciative sigh spilled from Shanks as he reached up, cupping the back of your head, holding you closer to deepen the kiss. Teeth nipped at your bottom lip, stirring the heat that had already begun to spread through you.

No- no, he wouldn’t get the upper hand here. You returned the nip in a harsher manner, pulling free a startled gasp from your lover as you pulled back, licking at your kiss bruised lips. “Be a good boy- take off your shirt,” as you spoke, you moved, turning to face the headboard. You adjusted the pillows, stacking them to offer your back respite as you settled down with a sigh. Better, much better.

Shanks rushed as he pulled his shirt off, tossing it to Gods know where before turning to face you. His cheeks flushed, a breathless smile curving his lips as he sat upon his knees proudly.

“Pants, too.”

“Bossy,” he muttered as he took a moment to wiggle out of his trousers, letting them slide off the side of the bed to the floor below. They’ll be fine down there, you decided as you beckoned him closer. His smile turned dangerous as he shuffled closer-

“No, no. Not like that, sweetheart,” you shook your head, watching in amusement as he paused, visibly confused. “Come, lay back against my chest.”

“Lay- oh. Oh!” Realization dawned as he understood your plan, coming to settle his back against your chest, his head resting on your right shoulder. “What about you?” He asked, turning his head to press lingering kisses along your throat. “When do I get a taste of you?”

“Later. This is about you, Captain,” your hand smoothed down his side, nails digging into tanned skin, drawing forth soft red lines along his pelvis. His hips jerked at the pain, a hiss of breath sucked in between clenched teeth. A living work of art, you thought to yourself as your hand smoothed upwards, pausing to tweak a nipple. Another hiss, another shift of his hips into open air. “How often do you get treated like this?”

“Not… Often,” came the soft admittance as he busied himself with sucking bruises into your throat, bound and determined to try to get you as worked up as he was. “Usually, I’m the one in charge.”

A soft moan slipped past your lips at the feeling of his teeth sinking in; that would certainly leave a pretty bruise come morning. “What a shame. I know that must get so tiring for you, yes?” Your fingers settled on his jaw, tilting his head away from your neck. You shifted slightly, adjusting to get a better view as you tapped your fingers against his lips. “Open for me, darling.” Not a request.

Shanks obeyed. His lips parted, allowing your fingers entry before he closed his lips around the digits, eyes falling shut in tandem as his tongue laved at your fingers. You could imagine- rather vividly- what else that sinful mouth could do with the way his cheeks hollowed out, how his tongue curved around your fingers, coating them liberally. Sure, you could have been crude and spat in your palm- but this was better, far better than you could have ever imagined.

Especially as your free hand settled on his chest, massaging his pec slowly, squeezing the sensitive muscle. Fingers traced his nipple, watching as it hardened beneath your touch, as goosebumps broke across his skin. It was almost cute, you thought to yourself- how sensitive, how receptive Shanks was to your touch. You withdrew your fingers, though he wasn’t satisfied yet- reaching up to grasp your wrist, tongue laving along your palm.

You squeaked.

“That should do it, eh, treasure?” Shanks rasped, grinning up at you as you shook your head in disbelief. He knew your plan, the bastard. He reached over to the bedside table, tugging the drawer open to pull out a small glass vial. “Though, this might work a touch better.”

“Said the man who was just giving my fingers essential fellatio.” You quipped, cheeks flushed as he laughed, watching you wipe your fingers clean. “Give it.”

“Here,” he settled it in your palm, though took your momentary distraction to sweep in, stealing another kiss from you. You gripped the bottle in one hand while the other swept upwards, cupping his cheek. The angle was a tad awkward, but that didn’t matter- not with the way Shanks seemed bound and determined to get a reaction out of you from a kiss alone.

And a reaction, he got, as his hand settled on your waist, smoothed down to palm between your thighs. You gasped raggedly into the kiss, pulling back from him to frown. “You’re an ass- now lay back, for Gods’ sakes.”

“Can’t help it. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you- wanted this. To touch you,” his back settled against your chest once more. Your arms wound around his middle as you worked the cork out of the bottle, using the lube to slick up your fingers and palm. “How many nights I’ve spent in this bed, thinking of what it’d be like to have you here.”

“That so?” You hummed, listening to the hitch in his breath as your hand settled around him, dragging upwards slowly- base to tip, back down again. “What did you picture? Tell me your fantasies, Shanks,” your free hand settled at the base of his throat once more as his head tilted back, brows drawn inwards. “Did you picture me under you? Begging for your touch?”

“Fuck,” he hissed, hips shifting to slowly grind into your touch, thighs tensing at the subtle scrape of your nails along the sensitive skin of his cock. “Yes- yes, of that. Of how your mouth would feel around my cock. How- oh- how I’d love to watch you take every inch of me.”

“Every inch?” He twitched in your grasp as you circled the head. Curiosity got the better of you as your palm smoothed over the tip- and oh, what a reaction that garnered! His hips stuttered upwards, his words failed as he moaned loudly, hand flying up to grab at your wrist.

“Shit!” He gasped out a laugh, eyes hazy as he shook his head. “How- yer a little minx,” his accent had grown thicker as he fell beneath the waves of arousal that crashed over him. “Don’t stop.”

“Keep your hand to yourself, and I won’t.” It was interesting- to be in control of this situation. Shanks huffed, but reached up, taking hold of your free hand to lace your fingers together. Such an intimate gesture… You smiled to yourself before regaining your pace. Faster, now- eagerly jerking him off as he continued to moan and writhe beneath your touch. How precum leaked from his tip, aiding in the glide of your palm. You broke your pattern, reaching down to fondle his balls, offering the barest hint of a squeeze.

Shanks nearly sobbed out at the feeling. “Close- close, dear Gods I’m so close, don’t stop!” He pleaded with you, turning his head to tuck in against your throat.

Your fingers circled his base- and squeezed.

“Oh, you BASTARD.” He gasped, panting against your throat as you staved off his impending orgasm.

“Did you really think I’d let you cum that easily?” You grinned as you began to touch lightly once more- as you did in the beginning. “I told you I’d be taking care of you, didn’t I, Captain?”

“I didn’t think it’d be… Oh- ha- like this,” he mumbled against you, his hips twitching up into your touch. You hummed, your grip tightening and holding still, letting Shanks rut up into the warm squeeze. “Oh, my treasure- please, please-”

“Please what? Don’t tell me you’re close again already!”

“Can’t help- can’t help it!” He whined- and oh, how that was music to your ears as he fucked in earnest into your grip. “Please!”

“No.” You drew your hand away completely, listening to the frustrated groan that escaped Shanks. “You can wait a little longer, yes?”

“You’re evil.”

“But, baby,” you murmured, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. Hazy- hard for him to focus. He wasn’t one who dabbled in edging often, you noted; he truly wouldn’t last beyond one more round, not unless you wished to deal with consequences. That was a boundary yet to be discussed. “Tell me it doesn’t feel good. Tell me you don’t feel like pure lightning right now.” Shanks sighed, drawing in a calming breath. “Good boy, just like that. I promise I’ll let you cum this time-”

“Oh, thank Gods-”

“If you beg.”

“Beg?” He blinked, the haze clearing from his gaze for a moment. Beg? That’s all he had to do? Oh, he could beg. His grin sharpened as he settled back down, your hand pressing against his chest, pulling him down. “Beg for ye?”

“Beg for me to let you cum.”

“I don’t beg.”

“Then suffer.” You grinned, palm smoothing over the head of his cock, fingers curving down as you rotated your wrist, stimulating the glands in ways he didn’t know was possible.

He jolted against your hold, a hoarse cry escaping his lips. “Sweet Eros!” He sobbed to the God of Pleasure, stomach tensing up as your hand began to stroke in earnest.

You leaned your head down, your lips caressing his ear. “I’ll be nice- you don’t need to beg this time. Next time, you will, but this time? I want you to cum, Shanks. I want you to cum for me. I wanna hear you cry for me. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy and cry for me? Let everyone know who’s gotten you to this point?”

Your words, the way your hand was twisting, it was all too much for the Captain. His head fell back against your shoulder as he moaned out your name- long, loud, repeating it like a mantra as he spilled over your hand, onto his stomach, making a mess. You pressed kiss after kiss his temple as he shuddered through it until his hand gently pushed at your wrist; the overstimulation too much for him.

Your- now dirtied- hand settled to the side while your clean hand smoothed over his chest, feeling the way his breathing gradually evened out over the next few minutes. “You did so good,” you murmured, pressing another kiss to his temple as he sighed, stretching. “I expected no less from my Captain.”

“You must be a siren,” he decided as he sat up, looking at you over his shoulder. “Here, I’ll get a-”

“Nope.” You had already clambered out of the bed and made your way to his private bathroom. “Stay. I’m grabbing a towel!” You called back, though you took a moment to study the marks he’d left on your throat. Five of them. Five. On one side. And one was certainly a visible bite mark, the dog. You returned with a warmed wash cloth to see Shanks lazing on the bed, arm behind his head, his gaze tracking your movements like a cat of prey.

This was far from over, you thought distantly.

“How do you feel?” You asked as you wiped his stomach clean, taking a moment to teasing lick a spot clean just to hear the way he’d hissed.

“Relaxed,” came the admittance as he reached out, taking your hand to pull you in. You tossed the rag aside, climbing into bed beside him. His arm wrapped around you, holding you in against his side. “You didn’t-”

“Wasn’t about me.”

“... Do you want to?”

You turned your head, pressing gentle kisses along his jawline. “Later, you can make it up to me. For now, you should rest. That was a lot- more than what you’re normally used to, right?”

“Mm. Normally the one edging others, not being edged.”

“Exactly.” You grabbed the blankets- blessedly unsoiled- and tugged them up, covering your legs. “Get a few hours of sleep. Ben can handle the morning, can’t he?”

Shanks didn’t argue, shuffling down beneath the blankets. He sighed deeply as you settled against his side, arm tossed over his stomach, leg over his hip. “Could get used to this, yeknow,” he mumbled, sleep already starting to drag him under.

“So could I,” you whispered, listening to the pleased hum that rumbled in his chest. You smiled to yourself as Shanks fell asleep, your own eyes closing. A few hours of sleep could do you both good.

You’d need it, for what he had planned in retaliation.

#one piece #shanks smut #shanks x reader #one piece smut #shanks x you #one piece imagines #think i need someone older #kanon's writings #TW: medical trauma #TW: phantom limb syndrome #yeah that's all I can think of enjoy

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helluvapoison · 3 months

Text

Trying

Lute x Reader

warnings: i’m pushing a giant agenda on heaven but it’s purely hc, not accurate to lore

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Before future exorcists ever saw Adam, they went through you

• You had another purpose.. once. That seemed so long ago now. Lucifer plummeted and unwittingly took with him everything that used to be

• Now, you made weapons out of angels. Trained them in hand to hand combat should they ever lose their angelic spear

• There was one that kept coming back. At first you thought she was drawn to power, what with the way she clung to Adam after she left your division. Now you know better

• Lute craves equality. Respect. How she found that in Adam of all Angels you’ll never know. But she found it in you too

• It started with sparring matches. You’re bigger and stronger but that never deterred you from matching the energy of your opponent. That’s what Lute admired about you first and foremost

• Sparring lead to advice, to out of breath conversations, to longer and longer goodbye’s, to sitting for hours in an empty training hall talking about nothing and everything

• All in all, it took years to build a solid enough foundation for the two of you to stand on

• “I see you’re trying, Lute, b—“

Her narrowed eyes are sharp and dangerous, cutting you off before she speaks, “But what?”

“But you still need to talk to me. Your enemy isn’t me, it’s not anyone in Hell, it’s the way you avoid your problems or-or try to solve them by yourself! You don’t need to do that anymore, not when I want to help you!”

• By the middle of your little speech you realized you’d taken Lute’s bare hands in yours. She noticed after you did. Staring at how you held them, the difference between yours and hers, how calloused yours felt against her unblemished palms

• “I don’t understand,” She admits softly, so quiet you almost missed it. To you, it’s booming. It’s progress

• Everything in her tells her to run but your voice in her mind says “stay and fight” so she tries

• There’s times where Lute ran instead of helping, leaving you with your arm stretched out in constant invitation. Intimacy was a wound not even Heaven could heal for her

• Now it was more of a sore spot

• There’s times where you thought continuing to build on your own was pointless and you wanted to give up

• She seemed to know when these moments found you because she returned and silently began putting in the work

• Apologies were still rare but her efforts would never go unnoticed by you

• Adam, the bastard, puts a hindrance on your relationship at times. You think he’s jealous… You also think Lute secretly enjoys that attention to a degree (You keep both to yourself)

• Compliments don’t really work on her but Lute’s very easy to rile up if you know what to say (And boy do you!)

• She’s still learning how to relax in general, not just around you

• Fighting is her go-to stress reliever, which is fine, but you’re trying to find something less aggressive for her to do

• She doesn’t know how to “turn off” and just be

• “I’m trying,” Lute snarls, frustrated with the activity you set up, aiming her fury at anything and anyone else

• You force yourself into her line of sight, making her freeze up, “I know,” you say calmly

• That’s all you need to know

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ this is for my ⚰️ anon! i hope it reaches your expectations!

#lute imagine #lute headcanon #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

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chatsukimi · 23 days

Text

ꜱᴋᴀᴛᴇʙᴏᴀʀᴅᴇʀ!ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ

★ ☄︎ he was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!

⤷ genre: fluff, frustration ⤷ tropes: reader fumbles, fluff, minor hurt -> comfort, popular!reader ⤷ series (jjk men as athletes)

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who is the school's nonchalant object of desire. he doesn't realise it, how those silver-onyx piercings speckle his ears or the devil-may-care bandaids around his body that has the school in a chokehold. he doesn't realise loads of things, as you'll find out.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who asks you out casually after school, his hands in his pockets, half lidded eyes as he inspects you. you bristle.

you've witnessed boys handpick bouquets for you, girls write you careful love letters, but this choso hasn't tried much at all.

you reject him, thinking nothing of it.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who you start noticing him at the cafeteria, composed beside his friends. in class, his habit of keeping to himself, bobbing his head to some invisible tune. it's almost as though nothing happened.

at the skate park your friend drags you to because she swears you'll finally catch feelings on one of the skaters, unaware of the prior rejection, you watch him glide seamlessly over the rails in the distance.

'hey, let's go. there's nothing much to see.' you tug your friend's arm, your face burning. what if he sees you? he'll think you're spying on him.

he catches your eye as he does a trick mid-air. your breath hitches. he says nothing. the skateboard hits the ground.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who's standing right beside you when a guy from your class comes over, shyly.

oh no, not now....

you compel your eyes on the boy before you as the same old stunt unfolds, ignoring not the guy beside you. when the confession finishes, you kindly send the boy off with a "sorry. i'm not super interested right now". you turn around, ready to flee.

humiliated, the boy asks, "do you flirt with guys for fun then?" your heartbeat staggers (what did he just say?), and you unconsciously lean away from him. no way he said that...

"don't harass those who have no interest in you." the taller figure steps forward. "did nobody teach you better than that?" the boy squeaks something incomprehensible at the sight of choso interfering and hurries away.

"thanks."

there's a super good question doing cartwheels in your brain... why are you so flustered?

you figure that's it, you'll leave and never speak about this incident again, about to step away, until you hear a low voice rumble behind you. "that's nicer than how you rejected me." all words die in your mouth as choso eyes you, not making a move. "you gotta be meaner," he instructs. his tongue works a piece of gum.

as he skates away, too fast for you to chase, you breathe out in the hot afternoon.

"you gotta be meaner" the words float through your head.

meaner, you think. choso returns to your head, with absolutely no ill intention but that sexy nonchalant gaze roving over you, gently splitting apart.

there's only one thing stuck on your mind.

"fuckk i fumbled."

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who's shipped with you in the weeks leading up to valentine's day. tiny conversations in class. absent-minded nods. disappearing to the skate park after school. the grade's ultimate unofficial couple... and he doesn't seem ruffled at all.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who teaches you how to skateboard, to the distress of your parents and friends. bruises and minor scrapes appear on your knees, contrasting your dainty baby blue shorts. it's a way to show you're his, even if unofficially.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who comments on your progress, the necklace you gave him tucked under his black shirt. he pats you on the back in a friendly way, too friendly.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO who lets you grip onto him when mounting the skateboard, strands of his black hair tossed over his face concentrated on your footing.

you hold your breath. he walks you slowly down the bank of the river, sunset illuminating his beautiful beautiful features, the lean curvature of his jaw. the peace he holds with his gaze.

you suddenly say, "are you going to ask me out again?"

"no," he states. your heart drops. "no, no- no." his expression contorts from apathy to sudden desperation. you flinch away from his hold.

you're wobbling. oh no-

he skids to the ground just in time, catching you before your fall. rough baggy pants grind against the rough concrete. he's holding you with a criminal care.

"i meant, no- i didn't know you liked me like that," he says. collecting himself again, he asks, serious, "i know this isn't the best time to ask, but i hope this time you can give me a chance." his inquisitive eyes are watching for your consent. "you don't have to, of course, but... wanna grab a bite after this? i know a place."

it's the perfect time to ask.

SKATERBOARDER!CHOSO whose baggy hoodie you wear to school to the surprise of nobody but choso, himself.

"you know they're all expecting this, right?"

he looks around the hallway. "what? oh. yeah." you're about to ask what he means when he explains, 'yeah the boys know i've liked you.'

this time it's you in shock. 'since when??'

he pauses, as though pondering, himself.

'freshman year.'

maybe you're the real oblivious one at the end.

#choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #choso x you

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marksmelodies · 6 months

Text

for better, for worse

idol chenle x fem reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: cussing, mentions of sex, unprotected sex,

—————————————————————————

you and chenle have been fighting a lot lately, everything you say to eachother ends up in a argument. it’s a never ending saga of screaming, fighting, threatening to break up, making up, having sex, then fighting again and so on.you currently were staring at the clock on the wall as chenle was thrusting in and out of you, wishing was that it would be over soon.you love chenle and you love your sex life with him but recently it seemed like a sympathy card and nothing more.the two of you used to have so much chemistry, your sex was amazing, you two were so passionately in love, but now you both seemed burnt out.

chenle was chasing his orgasm, thrusts were becoming rushed and messy, headboard smashing against the wall, it seemed as if he was just eager to blow off steam rather than actually wanting to have sex with you.the two of you fought earlier due to chenle blowing you off again for work, you tried your best to be understanding of his job, you knew how much it consumes his life, but when he’s blowing you off every single day it’s really hard to justify it, selfishly you wanted him to focus on you more than work.when you brought it up to him he got defensive and started yelling, which caused you to get angry and the whole situation escalated very quick leading to screaming, cussing and slamming doors.

you looked at him and wondered if you two would ever go back to how you used to.once he finished he laid down back facing you not saying a word, the next thing you know you hear soft snores coming from him.you walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on, feeling a little sore from chenle taking out his anger on you.

as the water hit your back, you begin to sob, knowing the love of your life is slipping away was the worst feeling in the entire world. you wouldn’t blame him though, your relationship had become extremely toxic.a few moments of you crying you hear the bathroom door open.

“ i’m coming in i have to piss” you hear chenle say softly

you quickly get ahold of yourself “ go ahead ” you respond your voice shaking a little.silence fell between you two for a few moments until he speaks up.

“ it’s because of me right”

“ what”

“ your crying that hard over me… over us” you go silent again not knowing what to say, that’s when chenle steps in the shower fully clothed saying nothing, just grabbing you pulling you into a hug.you take a minute to process what’s happening you feel the man in your arms start to shake before hearing him wail, in all of the years you’ve been together you have never once seen him cry so hard.you both stand in the shower with the water running embracing eachother as you two sob.he finally looks up at you with red eyes and quivering lips

“ please don’t leave me” he cried into your shoulder

“ shhh baby everything’s going to be okay”

“ but it’s not, it’s not y/n and i don’t know how to fix it”

you both soak in this very vulnerable moment and decide to sit down and have a conversation when you were done.

“ first of all chenle i’m not leaving you, i don’t know where you got that from but when i promised you forever i meant it”

“ second of all, i think we need to go to couples therapy” you say to him. he just stared at you

“ i think it’ll help, really, a friend of mine recommended me a good therapist. i’m going to fight for us chenle and i’ll do whatever it takes”

“ me too, i’ll go if that’s what you think will help”

“ i really do babe, i think it’ll help a lot” that night you two were making some sort of progress even though it doesn’t mean much because you knew at some point you two would regress and go back to square one but you had a glimpse of hope this time.instead of spending the night at your friends place avoiding chenle which would usually happen around this time of night.you lay cuddled on the couch watching a movie, you can feel chenle shifting as if he was uncomfortable.you got up to get him some water, when you came back chenle was standing up looking a little frantic.you were confused until you saw the tent in his pants.

“ really lele” you roll your eyes

“ you can never keep it in your pants” you laugh to yourself.

“ i’m sorry babe it just happens, i’ll go take care of it in the bathroom i’ll be right back” he says at you frown at him.

“ i mean you could do that or i don’t know you have your turned on girlfriend standing right in front of you” you smirk,he walks over to you picking you up making his way to the bedroom.throwing you down on the bed, immediately smashing his lips onto yours, grinding his clothed dick onto you as you moan into his lips, driving him crazy.

“ fuck i cant take it anymore” he rips your shirt and shorts off, taking your under garments with it too, leaving you completely naked.kissing a trail down your body he lifts your hips up a little to make you comfortable as he licks a stripe down your pussy

“ oh my god chenle” you moan, he smiles at you before diving completely into your heat, sucking at your clit you arch your back, lacing your fingers into his hair he pulls you forward flicking his tongue back and forth.you feel your orgasm building up, “ babe i’m coming” you scream as you release all over his face.you lay there catching your breath, for the first time in a very long time you felt content in the bedroom, for the first time in months he actually made you finish.chenle takes one if your legs lifting it onto his shoulder as he places his other hand on your waist, thrusting into you “ oh my god babe you’re so wet for me” he says as your hands grip the bedsheets, he flips you around arching your back for him he slams into you again with no warning, earning screams from you.continuously hitting your g spot you feel yourself about to cum again

“ chenle im gonna cum” you cry

“ wait for a little longer babe i want to come together”chenle has you a squirming mess under him, he has to keep one hand on your lower back keeping you arched as the other one is on your waist.

“ lele i cant hold it anymore please” is you beg

“ be a good girl y/n, i’m almost there” squeezing your eyes shut he turns you around again

“ look at me baby i wanna see you when we cum” chenle takes both of your legs bending them into your chest as he thrusts as hard as he can,his trusts become sloppy as he lets low groans out of his mouth.

“ fuck baby you ready” he asks

“ yes yes please”

“ cum for me babygirl” he demands as you both finish at the same time.chenle collapses onto you, not taking himself out of you yet.

“ fuck baby that was so good” he whispers kissing your neck

“ that’s the best sex we’ve had in so long” you smile

“ i know love, we definitely needed that”taking himself out of you he cleans you up and joins you back in bed.

“ i love you so much sweet girl, i promise we will make it through this rough patch” he kisses your forehead.

“ i know we will lele, i love you too”

** a year later**

you and chenle did end up going to couples therapy and it has changed your relationship for the better.you two haven’t gotten into fights since, you are in the honeymoon stage all over again, and let’s just say you two can’t stay off of eachother, you feel like teenagers again.the romance has sparked in your relationship again and it has never felt better.

you were currently joining him on his europe leg of his tour. waking up next to your man every morning in a new place had been a dream come true.today you were in paris , chenle had soundcheck and dance practice but other than that you had the night to yourselves since his show wasn’t until tomorrow.you stayed in bed most of the day catching up on rest until you receive a text from your boyfriend telling you he made dinner reservations tonight and to dress fancy.

you quickly got up and started getting ready.a few hours later you were finally ready as chenle made his way to pick you up.he was dressed in a nice white button down shirt and black slack pants, it took everything in you not to jump his bones right then are there.

the night was beautiful, he rented out the rooftop of a very fancy restaurant looking out onto the Eiffel Tower which shimmered every so often and had music playing soft instrumentals.you were left speechless.chenle however seemed a little nervous and quieter than usual.

finishing up your dinner you looked to your boyfriend.

“ chenle this is amazing really, thank you so much”

“ you deserve everything and more my love” he kisses your hand. you smile at him as he falls quiet again.he clears his throat.

“ let’s go look at the view huh” he suggests. he walks with you hand in hand as he leads you over to the edge of the rooftop.standing under a beautiful arch with vines and fairy lights you look at the Eiffel Tower in awe.

“ it’s so beautiful chenle, i’m never going to forget this moment” you turn to him and notice he’s not beside you anymore.confused you turn around to find him kneeling down on one knee holding out a small box with a beautiful diamond ring in it.

you gasp covering your mouth with your hands as tears stream down your cheeks.

“ y/n i have loved you from the moment i met you, never in my lifetime have i experienced a love greater than yours, we’ve been through so much together, i know that we can face whatever the world throws at us as long as we are together, i love you more than words can describe you have my whole heart, you have changed my life and i will forever be so grateful, through good seasons and bad i will always be by your side, i can not wait for our future together. (your full name) will you marry me?”

“ yes a million times yes” you say without hesitation as he slides the ring onto your finger pulling you into a kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck embracing him tightly.

“ i know we already promised forever a long time ago but i thought a big shiny ring would be a nice touch” chenle jokes as he kisses you again.

“ i cant wait to spend the rest of my life with you zhong chenle.”

—————————————————————————thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy!!!

#nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #chenle x reader #chenle angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #chenle #chenle x you #zhong chenle

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cherrychilli · 4 months

Text

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter three

Chapter Summary: Things turn sour in the days after you scramble out of Eddie's trailer, leading to an interesting confrontation at your old alma mater.

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (m)

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Current tag list: Make sure to reblog the chapter if you'd like to remain on the list for future updates.

It’s been a week since that day in Eddie’s bedroom.

During that time, you hit the books, powered through your shifts, made it to every lecture and finished your midterms, now holding the fruit of your labor in your hands.

You managed to score in the 90’s again, relief filtering into your lungs with deep, calming breaths because it accounted for 25% of your final grade. With your academic progress still intact, you slipped the glowing results sheet into your bag, allowing yourself to think of your neighbor again.

And as weird as it is to say, you do feel strangely grateful for his contribution.

You’d awoken the day after bolting out of Eddie’s place with your head already crowded with thoughts of him but admittedly, having slept better than you had in a long time. He’d talked a big game and he delivered – the encounter having unwound you enough to get back to work with renewed focus.

So yes, you were grateful but also, you were furious.

Seven whole days had passed by and you hadn’t seen Eddie once.

You tried not to read into the fact that for that entire week, you didn’t hear him play his guitar once. Tried not to let your chest cave in when you didn’t catch him outside working on that tetanus trap on wheels he called a van when you took off for work. Tried not to grit your teeth when you didn’t run into him even when you returned home. Every trace of him gone.

It wasn’t that you wanted to see him exactly, but you couldn’t ignore how his absence made you feel – like a mistake he was trying to run away from.

On day four, the day after your exams, you’d even gone so far as to try wheedling some answers out of Wayne when you passed by the older man on your way to work, attempting to be as inconspicuous about it as possible.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to share a few polite words with Wayne whenever you ran into him but it was out of the ordinary for you to bring up his nephew in any other context that didn’t have to do with a noise complaint.

Segueing into it as gracefully as you could manage, you tried to make it sound as offhand as possible, like a casual observation rather than the heavily rehearsed thing that had consumed your mind all day.

“It’s been pretty quiet in the park lately. He sick or something?”, you asked him while toing at some nearby gravel like your own interest in the question was waning.

You refused to say Eddie’s name, afraid that just by mentioning it, it might put a crack in the eggshell thin mask that holds your hurricane of emotions at bay.

As you had expected, Wayne regards you with some surprise – catching his nearly imperceptible squint, his craggy brow crinkling too. It was both unavoidable and understandable. You would have reacted the same way if you were him.

The weight of his second long silence borders on excruciation, something almost surgical about the way he assesses you. Dissecting you is what it really felt like but thankfully, he shows you mercy.

“Says he’s got things to do at school – doubt there’s any studying involved though”, he lets out a huff, a dry, almost laugh that conveyed his long suffering history with his nephew’s unbeaten record for flunking.

Eddie willingly spending more time at school? The same boy who once climbed down out of a second story window, slipped and hauled ass on a sprained ankle just to get out of taking a math test?

So he was avoiding you.

Despite the bitter taste clawing at the back of your throat, you mustered up a laugh of your own and hoped it was convincing enough, waving goodbye to Wayne as you parted ways.

For those seven days you blocked out the thought of Eddie as best you could but now that your exams were no longer a concern, you were finally free to confront the spineless louse.

If he thought he was going to be safe holed up at your old alma mater he was dead fucking wrong.

Treading fire onto campus, you marched through waves of highschoolers, making a steady beeline for the drama room, remembering that was where he held those weird meetings with his weirdo friends in their weird matching t-shirts.

The teenagers hastily parted off to the side in an effort to get out of your way, some of the seniors who recognized you beginning to whisper, speculating as to what brought you back and looking so incensed.

Stomping up to the room, you let loose all that had been simmering inside you – all that frustration from being evaded and those acrid feelings that felt too close to rejection, parting the doors open forcefully with both hands. It makes for your desired entrance when they swing back and bang closed behind you like a thunderclap, startling the boy who’d been busy scribbling in his notebook getting ready for his next campaign.

His pen clattered to the floor from where it flew out his hand and bounced off a nearby theater prop. You can’t be sure given how abrupt it was but you think he might have yelped too, a high pitched eep like some sort of puppy who had its tail stepped on by mistake.

Sitting askew on his carved wooden throne, Eddie’s cast in warm hues of orange and yellow underneath stage lights and candlelight but nothing shines brighter than the sheer surprise overwhelming his face. It pleases you more to recognize the unmistakable tinge of fear he’s incapable of hiding behind his wide eyes when they land on you.

Good. He should be scared, your mood far from friendly as you turn to lock the door behind you and retrieve the key, clutching it tight in your palm.

Was this overkill? locking him inside with you? You didn’t think so. Not after he’d weaseled his way out of talking to you for an entire week. You weren’t about to leave room for him to plan an escape route too.

You stepped closer to where he cowered at the D&D table, your lips pulled into an imitation smile, curved up exactly like one but so clearly absent of any sweetness or warmth, only radiating danger.

To Eddie, your menacing saunter resembled a cobra leisurely winding its way up to cornered prey, jaw seconds away from unhinging to swallow him whole.

He flinches when you slap down your results sheet on the table, now crumpled from how you had it clenched in your fist on your way over here. Better the paper than his neck you supposed although truthfully, you were still on the fence about that.

“Uh, what’s this?”, he finally dares to speak, a nervous croak of a sound that scratched its way out of his throat, cautiously leaning closer to examine the paper. The spiteful devil perched on your left shoulder chittered and sneered, whispering all sorts of encouragement to make you reply with spite, to make some underhanded remark about how you’re not surprised he couldn’t recognize anything that didn’t have a row of F’s stamped all over it given it’s his second time repeating senior year.

But the lenient angel on your right shoulder leaned in and spoke reason into your other ear, dulcet but insistent reminders that you only came here to inquire, not injure.

The devil withers away with a snarl when you clench your jaw, holding your tongue at bay, unable to spit that kind of venom at Eddie.

Before now, your main gripe with him was his disruptive influence, the way he wedged himself into your life like a splinter caught underneath your fingernail with his head rattling music and blood boiling snark. Grinning like his biggest pleasure in life was annoying you enough to darken his bedroom window day after day with a face full of fury and a mouthful of fuck you’s. He was too carefree for your liking as well, able to shrug off his plummeting grades when a minor slip of yours would have you digging out your emergency pack of cigarettes to chain smoke the stress away in secret. But taking shots at his intellect like all the other assholes you went to school with felt too…slimy.

The same assholes who had looked down on you and your trailer park background. The same assholes who rolled their eyes when you got accepted to your College of choice. The same assholes who cackled when you had to enroll in a nearby Community College instead when your family’s finances fell in the red.

Maybe you weren’t a cobra after all, only masquerading as one.

“My midterms. I passed”, you answered him flatly, watching recollection flash across his face.

The stress it had caused you was the reason why this all started in the first place after all.

“Couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t helped me out”, you added pointedly, tone almost accusatory.

Even under the vivid stage lights that paint his complexion like a sunset, you can still make out the way his cheeks pink up at the vague mention of what had happened in his bed that day.

“Oh, uh– that’s great”, he offered you something that resembled a smile, face so twisted with nerves that he couldn’t get his lips to curve up the right way. Jesus, you’d never seem him like this before. He was barely recognizable and for the first time in your life, you found yourself preferring his usual tornado presence and boisterous anti charm.

“Yeah. So, why’ve you been avoiding me?”

His jaw tensed at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Obviously, you hadn’t come by to say thank you.

“Listen, the club will be here in an hour. They already know I’m in here so just give me the key and…we’ll talk about this later, okay?”, he attempted to negotiate with you in the same way one might try to approach a skittish horse, overly cautious with an undertone of fear, holding out a shaky palm to collect the key but you weren’t about to give in now.

“What, so you can find somewhere new to hide?”, you sneered.

To show him you’re serious about seeing this conversation to the end you make a show of dangling the key to the drama room in front of his face – his only hope of escape, but it’s what you’re doing with your other hand that gathers his attention.

Hooking a finger into the neckline of your t-shirt, you pull it low enough for your cleavage to show, soft swells sitting high on your chest, framed by pretty lace. And despite the dread trickling down Eddie’s spine, thick like tar, one thing becomes abundantly clear in that moment.

He’s only a man.

The little flash of tit is enough to trigger his hormones. Stupefied, he takes in an eyeful, committing the contours of your breasts to memory – the newest entry into the sordid vault of his spank bank before he’s able to snap out of it. He attempts to snatch the key from you but he’s too slow, stomach cartwheeling as he watches it disappear into your cleavage when you tuck it away for safe keeping in your bra cup. Honestly, he can’t decide if he’s more upset about it or turned on.

Face twisting with exasperation, he locks his eyes back on yours.

“You’re being ridiculous!” he accuses with increasingly reddening cheeks.

Unbothered by the claim, you shove a couple of dice and a few of his notes aside to sit yourself on the edge of the table, arms crossed underneath your breasts, showing your defiance.

This isn’t like when he’d gotten you to beg for your release, chipping away at your resolve with his touch and tongue until you crumbled under the weight of ecstasy. You’ve molded yourself into an imposing shadow of the girl who came undone on his sheets, obstinate and immovable and it’s clear that you’ll sooner wear him down for an answer even if it means being stuck here in this room all night than leave without one.

Eddie’s hardened expression falters as he realizes this, sighing. Relenting.

“Fine”, he slumps back in his chair.

“I didn’t mean to…I didn’t know what to say– “

“Bullshit”, you cut him off with an icy scoff. Eddie Munson at a loss for words? Sure. And Steve Harrington’s a bald virgin.

“It’s not bullshit”, he attempts to deny, some heat behind his words.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who offered to help me “relax” in the first place?” you bit back with heat to match.

Your rebuttal has him silent – both of you knowing he can’t argue otherwise.

“Where’d all that bravado go, Munson?” you poke again just to see the vein at his temple bulge but he doesn’t answer, jaw set firm.

You’d hoped to scare it out of him at first or even force it out of him by locking him in here but for once that metalhead menace is tightlipped and damn good at it.

Taking another moment to consider your options you gird yourself to ask the one question you’ve been dreading. Casting your eyes down, arms tightening under your breasts, the key shifts into an awkward angle, jabbing your soft flesh but it’s not nearly as unpleasant as what you have to say next. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hear the answer but you force it out, tongue turning more sour the longer the question sat there unasked.

“Do you regret it?”

It’s the way your tone loses all of its heat, crumbling slightly at the end of your question that makes him feel like the world’s biggest jackass. Another awful second of silence passes before you’re startled by him shooting out of his seat, chair screeching noisily against the floor as its forced back so quickly, his hand reaching for yours but he stops short of your fingers touching.

This close, you can smell him again. That same scent that clung to his bed. That same scent that hung on your hair. The same scent you reluctantly washed away in the shower that night you got back home. It makes you feel woozy, like a cloud full of pheromones to the face. If he takes one more step, you’re afraid you might leap up and bite his chest through his shirt like an animal in heat.

“I don’t regret it”, he answers you, gentle. Honest.

And just like that, all the anxiety you’d carried around for a week unravels with those four words. In its place, relief strummed on your ribs like nimble fingers plucking strings on a harp, a hopeful tune building up to a crescendo inside your chest. But you don’t let it show – forcing an impending smile away, keeping your expression unreadable because you liked the way he looked back at you, sweating with uncertainty.

“Okay – then you wouldn’t mind me returning the favor, would you?”, you rose up from the table, placing a palm in the middle of his chest.

“Huh?” he stumbles back, the back of his knee connecting with his chair.

“Fair’s fair right?”

With a little effort, you push him back into his seat, dropping down to kneel between his legs when they spread for you.

“Shit shit wait- really?”, he sputters as your fingers climb up to his belt, working open that damn handcuff buckle you’d become curious about to the point of near infatuation in the last few days.

You roll your eyes in reply like his question is a nuisance to you, growing excited under the surface.

Popping open the button on his jeans and pulling down his zipper, you can see that he’s already half hard underneath his boxers, a thick outline of his cock growing more prominent.

He’s warm in your hand when you pull his jeans and boxers down to grasp him, watching it spring up, feeling him grow harder by the second. Your fingers are dwarfed by the size of him although you already expected that after what you had seen in his trailer.

Eddie tenses when you bring your face closer, lips parted, breath puffing against his flushed, throbbing tip. Just a little more and-

“But before I do, you’re going to tell me why you avoided me”

He blinks back at your wicked smile and sharp eyes, plummeting.

“You’re fucking evil, you know that? First you hold me hostage and now you’re going to interrogate me with your fist around my dick?”

You grin back, squeezing him mostly gently, the warmth of your hand alone enough to make him feel compliant.

“Do it or I’ll stop”, you threaten sweetly.

Somehow, he likes the sound of that even less than the fear of you doing something like snapping it clean off.

There’s something so perversely satisfying about getting to use his words against him – withholding his release in the same way he had done with you. Being on the other side of it, you now understand why he enjoyed it so much, the potent thrill of being in control.

“Fuck okay”, he lets his head fall back to thud against the back of his throne, the column of his neck stretched and bared for you to see the way his Adams apple bobs in his throat with a thick swallow.

“I thought about you all the time…” he starts, tipping his chin down to look at you again, eyes dark and shadowy from this angle. “Shit, I couldn’t sleep after what happened in my bed – had to get away because I knew if I saw you again, I’d just drag you back there”

Something about the image of him manhandling you, maybe even hauling you over his shoulder, all overcome with unbridled cave man lust for you as he takes you back to his bed brews excitement in your bones. You only hoped it didn’t show on your face.

“And I knew that- well, I thought, because you didn’t actually say, but all you wanted was a one time thing…right?”, he asks, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

That was your intention when you first climbed into his bedroom, yes. But now…

“You seemed to hold back just fine when I came in here”, you skirt around the question in favor of focusing on what he’d said before that, starting to stroke him slowly as a small reward for his honesty.

“You scared the fuck out of me”, his breath grows shorter now that you’re moving your hand. “And we’re in school – didn’t think you’d actually come down here. You liked this place less than I did”

That’s true, you did. You just didn’t expect him to have noticed, let alone have remembered that fact. Guess all that ganja didn’t total his memory completely.

“Well, I couldn’t just let this go on after everything that happened”, you state plainly, twisting your wrist slightly around his base before pulling back up to trace his tip with your thumb.

This time he doesn’t shy away from the vague mention. You can almost see the memory reflecting off his umber eyes as it replays in his mind.

“Didn’t even want to throw my sheets in the laundry”, he admits, a throaty timbre to his tone that makes you stroke him faster.

“That’s gross, Eddie”, you deride, nose wrinkling but he can see right through it. He recognizes it easily – the same forced disgust you’d showed him when he flicked his tongue at you and offered to get you off, trying to hide how much you liked it.

“Could still smell you on them even after they were washed you know – even though I knew they were clean. Like one of those subconscious things or whatever. Every time I thought of you, I felt like I could still taste you on my tongue”

He’s clearly done holding back, no longer the shrinking Dungeon Master you’d stormed in on not too long ago. This is the Eddie you knew well and knowing the thought of you had affected him to the point that it impacted his senses, haunting him even, makes you rush with pride.

“I never got to taste you”, you suddenly recalled, surprised you’d forgotten even for a moment considering how much thought you’d given it in the few days prior.

And with that you leaned forward, lips parting, tongue seeking his cock, licking from the bottom of his veiny shaft up to the head.

The slow, wet drag of your tongue along his sensitive skin is the kind of sensation that will not leave him quietly, groaning around all kinds of expletives as his palms clamped down on the armrests of his chair, knuckles turning white.

Taking the first few inches into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked slowly. Swirling your tongue around the leaking tip, you get a proper taste of him, collecting a dribble of precum before pulling off. The texture of it is silky on your tongue as you sucked the mix of tangy and salty sweet onto the roof of your mouth, letting it slide down the back of your throat like honey and swallowed.

“What else did you think about?”, you asked, missing the sound of his voice as you moved to lick along his shaft again, tongue feeling around the veins adorning it.

How he’s able to keep up a conversation when you’ve got your mouth on him like this he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s the fear that you might threaten to stop again. Maybe it’s the way your eyes look up at him all cloudy with need and your thighs clench together when he talks about the thoughts he’s had about you.

“Everything we didn’t get to do that day. I know we only agreed on helping you out but after watching you tidal wave my bed I couldn’t help myself”

The crass description nearly makes you snort against his dick despite yourself; your whole face going supernova with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. It makes Eddie grin.

“I thought about this a lot. I couldn’t believe it but I knew – you wanted me in your mouth back then too, didn’t you?”

Imparting a little honesty of your own, you answer him with a whisper, licking off another clear bead of precum from his slit. “I did”.

Eddie's eyes lit up, lips turning up into a smirk. “Watching you leave after that was torture, you have no idea. You’ve ran that smart little mouth of yours at me for years – hated missing my chance to shut you up for once”

That earns him a deadpanned look and calls for a warning.

You bring a hand down to squeeze his balls and smirked when he groaned, this time nearing on pained, hands releasing the armrests with his palms held up in surrender.

“Okay okay! Easy. You’re a soft spoken delight, alright?”

With a pleased chuckle bubbling up your throat, you relinquish your hold to massage them gently instead, rolling them in your palm, continuing to stroke him with your other hand.

“Did you think about fucking me?”

“Yeah…”, he answers at the end of a thick gulp.

“How?”

“Huh?”

“How would you fuck me, Eddie? rough?”

He considers it before answering. “Not at first…but yeah, I’d – fuck, do that again? – I don’t think I could be gentle for very long because I know you can take it”

It’s like he’s reached inside of you and flipped a switch you hadn’t even been aware was there. You’d been wound so tight for so long. You needed him to use you.

“Could you be rough with me now?”, you asked, triggering a sly quirk of his eyebrow.

“You asking me to fuck your face, sweetheart?”

There’s that cocky edge again and you're quick to spar with it.

“Yes or no, Munson?”, you return, all stony faced. There won’t be any begging from you today.

He frowns when you pull out his last name again.

“Aren’t we beyond that now?”

You grin back, too stubborn for your own good.

“No”

Eddie's frown fades, a grin stretching across his face to match your own.

“Open your damn mouth”

Ringed fingers weave into your hair as you part your lips for him, allowing him to breach the wet velvet of your mouth. His girth puts some strain on your jaw but you’re able to accommodate him, tongue cradling the underside of his cock as it glides over the muscle. You’re doing well so far, letting the hand on your head, firm but gentle, guide you down until the tip of his cock bumps the back of your throat and you gag.

“Go on – choke a little for me”, he grunts.

Tears wet your eyes as you try to breathe through it, throat squeezing back against the intrusion, saliva pooling in your mouth as it begins to drip past your lips.

Eddie starts to thrust into your mouth and you take him as far into your throat as you can manage. Your nails dig into his thighs through the short, ragged pumps, past even what you thought to be your limit when your nose presses close to his pelvis, brushing the thatch of hair at his base. You find that you like how he smells there too – musky and masculine.

The sounds you pull out of him make your core ache – every hitch of his breath, every choked off moan, every rumbling groan and throaty grunt. But you stamp down the hot roiling in your belly and ignore the sticky need pooling in your panties because you really did mean what you said about returning the favor. It was your turn to please him, sidelining your own pleasure for the time being in the same way that he had done for you. Not that there wasn’t any pleasure to be derived from being in your position.

The part of you that was greedy savored every sound and liked knowing you were making him feel good – that all those noises he was making was because of you. And the part of you that was competitive took pleasure in knowing you were proving he wasn’t the only one here with a skillful mouth.

Growing more and more used to it, you take it well as he fucks your throat and he tells you as much.

“Knew I was right about you. Knew you could take it – Christ, yes, just like that”

The praise makes you bob ardently, saliva soaking his cock, trailing down to his balls. You’ve adopted a pace of your own now, Eddie’s fingers still tangled in your hair but no longer guiding you.

"Shit– I’m gonna cum. where do you– "

You pull off his cock, his eyes trained on your wet, swollen lips gasping for air, your hand taking over to pump his spit-soaked length.

“Do it in my mouth”, you finish for him, desperation staining your tone.

You take him in your mouth again, not all the way this time, using your hand to stroke what you can’t fit past your sore lips anymore.

“Fuck – oh g- fuck”

Eddie’s hips jerk and then it happens – you feel the hot lines of his release begin to spurt onto your tongue, tangy and creamy thick. You swallow it down with his dick still in your mouth, throat contracting around his twitching, spent length. You pull off slowly until it’s just his tip your lips are wrapped around, lingering on it, sucking it like you don’t want to let go. You’re forced to let it slip from your mouth when his groans near pained again, sensitivity proving too much for him now.

Sitting back on your haunches, you watch his chest puff up and down while he recovers, head thrown back against the back of his chair.

When he’s able to, he puts his softening cock away, redoing his jeans before he pulls out a bandana from his back pocket and offers it to you.

“It’s clean I promise”.

The sweetness of the gesture makes your stomach flutter. Managing a meek ‘thank you’, you use the dark material adorned with bones and skulls to wipe your lips and chin of the sticky mixture of saliva and Eddie’s spend.

Next, he offers you a hand and you take it, letting him help you off your knees and on to your feet.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last time. When you had to leave, I mean. And for avoiding you after that”, he informs you, much more tender than you're used to with him.

“I didn’t even get to uh…”, patiently, you wait for him to finish but he doesn’t, watching his face twist, all conflicted. You can see the thought ping pong around inside his head, wishing you could just reach in and pluck it out for yourself but he brushes it off before he’s able to share it with you, leaving you wondering.

“Never mind. Jeff and Gareth are going to be here soon and you probably don’t want to be seen in here with me like um, thisss”, he drags out the single syllable, unsure of a more tactful way to phrase it.

You don’t need to ask him to know that “thisss” means you look like a fucked-out mess because that’s exactly how you feel with your unruly hair and your sore jaw.

Just as before, there’s too much that’s been left unsaid but the threat of another close call has you reluctantly fishing the key out of your bra, tossing it at Eddie while you attempt to tame your hair back into something presentable, wiping off your damp cheeks too. You’re yet to realize that you haven’t returned his bandana, still clutching it in your hand.

Eddie catches the key though he doesn’t make a move towards the door, staring down at his palm like he’d just been gifted a bar of gold.

“It’s warm”, he says quietly, one of those thoughts that wasn’t meant to be said out loud but slipped past the barrier of his lips quicker than he could notice, you surmised.

It’s kind of cute actually – that dopey, spellbound look spilling over his face.

“Unlock the door, Eddie”, you sigh, subduing a laugh. At least you didn’t accuse him of being gross again like you would have an hour ago.

“Oh, right”

He steps over to the door while you gather yourself, daylight shining into the dingily lit room when he unlocks it and pulls it open.

After a quick look around outside to make sure no one sees you leaving, he steps back and holds the door open for you but you linger.

…all you wanted was a one-time thing…right?

No. Not anymore.

You weren’t sure what the two of you were now. Neighbors who got each other off? Former enemies but not really friends with benefits?

The specifics didn’t matter. At least, not right now. All you knew was that you didn’t want whatever this was to end.

Turning to Eddie, you say something you never thought you would. Not to him.

“My family’s gone for the weekend. You can come over tonight…if you want”

The smile that crosses his face is both warm and cocky, much like the one he’d flashed you from his window when this all began.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you soften but only slightly. Unsmiling but not inimical.

“Oh, and if you stand me up?”, voice heating up, you jabbed a finger against his chest, right between the L and the F of his Hellfire shirt. “Try to run away again?”, you jab again and he staggers a step back, wincing when you press over the same sore spot again. “I’ll nail your balls to your front door, understand?”

For a moment he stares back at you. Stunned. And then, true to the freak riddle that he is, he smiles back even brighter.

Tag list - @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73 @taccobelle @mrsjellymunson

#eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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naughtyneganjdm · 11 months

Text

Something Like This

Summary: Flirting with Negan leads to you being handcuffed to his bed where he has his way with you.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC, second person) & Simon.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47638099

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, oral, use of toys, use of handcuffs, no use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This goes with the smut prompts that I was given. An anonymous gave me “i've never done something like this before” and @jwritesfanfics gave me “shh. there’s people in the other room.“ So I ran with both of them for this fic. I’m not someone that really enjoys writing second person for fics, so I hope this is okay. It’s pure smut with no plot which usually isn’t my thing either. Tried being a big different with this one. Thanks for reading!

With the final click of the metal around your wrists, you looked up to see that they were handcuffed to the headboard making you whine. An amused rumble of a laugh fell deep from Negan making you lower your head to see that he was gazing over your body with you stretched out naked at the center of his bed. Moving was hard because he had your feet tied to the lower bed posts. For a while now the two of you had been flirting back and forth. It started out innocent, but progressively got more intense with the two of you making out after a poker game that Simon had put on for the saviors. Negan had invited you to the game and afterwards the two of you had found yourselves in one of the hallways kissing but were interrupted by Simon.

That night Negan invited you to his room today promising something big for you if you waited things out for him and of course you accepted. From the moment you arrived at The Sanctuary you had your eye on Negan. And not just because he was the leader. It was the way he carried himself. There was so much that was incredibly charming about him. Sure, he was an asshole, but that was part of what you liked about him. Negan was the whole package from his attitude to his looks, you liked it all.

Laying before him, you felt bare. Your heart was pounding in your chest making your body shake as Negan stood up from the bed to stare down at you with his dilated hazel eyes. Everything ached and it took a whole hell of a lot out of you stripping down in front of him today when he asked that of you. There was no build up when you entered his room. Negan had been sitting on the couch at the corner of his room and demanded you to take your clothes off. At first you thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. He wanted to inspect you and admire your confidence when you stripped down for him. Originally, you thought he would get naked too, but when he commanded you to lay at the center of his bed, you listened. And before he handcuffed and tied you up, he asked for permission which you happily gave.

Call you crazy, but you were interested in being kinky and you liked where things were going.

“Damn baby,” Negan rumbled dragging his leather covered fingers up your thigh making you shake against his touch. “You look amazing.”

“And you are too clothed,” you panted feeling your throat dry while he stood above you with a wolfish grin. Bouncing his eyebrows, Negan tipped his head to the side and ate you alive with his stare. Whimpering out, you tossed your head back when his palm caressed further up and slid between your thighs. The leather palmed in over the most intimate parts of your body making you coo. “Negan.”

“So sensitive,” Negan growled pulling his hand away making you frown. That was too little of a touch. You wanted more. Walking around the bed, Negan stood at the bottom to get a better look at you and he clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth. “God, look at you. Just fucking stretched out completely vulnerable. I could do anything to you right now and there would be nothing you could do about it.”

He wasn’t wrong. You were his for the taking. There was something incredibly exciting about that. You had no power and he held control over you. Your lips parted, your hips arching up making him hum. You wanted him. You wanted him bad and he knew that, “Please.”

“Please what?” Negan slurred, his right eyebrow arching in amusement with you begging him for his attention.

“I want you,” you answered making that cocky, arrogant smile expand over his features. “I want you so bad.”

“Oh honey, I know you do,” Negan smirked placing a single knee onto the bottom of the bed, slowly lowering down between your thighs making you shake with him so close. The warmth of his breath pressed over your inner thigh and it made you gasp. “Look at you tremoring only with me between your thighs like this. You want it so much.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you felt Negan’s lips pressing in over the inside of your thigh and it made you suck in a sharp breath. The way that his short beard brushed against your flesh felt amazing as he began to kiss further up your thigh. Humming, Negan bit at your flesh and sucked faintly at it. That was his way of leaving his mark on you and you knew that. Closing your eyes, you purred out when Negan’s kisses raised further up toward your core.

“Negan,” you panted out, lifting your head just enough to watch him bury his head between your thighs to finally kiss over the most intimate parts of your body. They were teasing at first simply just pressing slight kisses at the flesh. When his tongue dragged out across the length of your sex, it had your fingers curling up and pain flooded your wrists from the cool metal of the handcuffs tugging on them. Small flicks of his tongue pressed in over your clitoris making you cry out. Dropping your head back, you could barely contain yourself when his lips surrounded your clit while sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please…”

Laughing against your pussy, Negan outstretched his tongue and shook his head from side to side making you arch your hips up toward his movements. Just the wet sound his mouth made over you was driving you crazy.

“You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?” his deep raspy voice surrounded you and God was it appealing. Everything about him was. Nodding, you couldn’t say much when you felt his fingers lifting to trace over your flesh. “You’re so fucking wet. Which is gonna make this so much easier.”

Sliding one of his large, slender digits inside of you, Negan took his time pumping in and out of the depths of your tight canal making him groan. Hooking your eyes with Negan, you could see the ego that started flooding him when he inserted another finger and had you shaking on the bed before him. Just from how good he was with his fingers had you eager for more. He knew where to touch, the right pace to move his fingers and he was good at noting what you liked. What made you tremor, what made you moan. Just when your body started to heat up, Negan was pulling his fingers from you with a tsking sound when you whined. Crawling over you, Negan reached beside the bed to pull open the nightstand. Grabbing what he wanted, Negan’s arrogant smile grew and he made an entertained sound.

“What are you doing?” you questioned hating that you were no longer getting the stimulation that Negan had been giving you. Once your eyes fell upon what he had grabbed you felt your heart skip a beat. “What is that?”

“It’s a vibrator. A nifty little one,” Negan held it up for you to inspect the purple-colored device making your lips part. “This part goes inside of you and presses against your g-spot and the other end slides over your clitoris. It’s no hands. Might not look like much, but it’s powerful as fuck.”

“It sounds interesting, but I would rather have you,” you lifted up to try to meet Negan in a kiss, but he pulled back with a shake of his head. Biting down on your bottom lip, you watched Negan reached between your thighs to adjust your hips so he could insert it inside of you carefully. Taking his time to get the device in place made you whimper with the pressure you immediately felt. “Negan?”

“I know you want daddy’s big cock inside of you, but I have a meeting in my office,” Negan mused with a deep rumble of laughter watching the way the color drained from your face. “See, this is remote controlled…”

Clearing your throat, you watched Negan reach for the remote from the drawer that he had just been in. Wiggling the small remote, Negan gave a snort watching you look to him with worry in your eyes, “Something tells me you’re a dirty girl that needs to be punished. And that’s exactly what daddy is going to do to you today.”

“Negan, I just…” you cried out watching Negan push one of the buttons on the remote and immediately the buzzing from the vibrator was heard, but boy was it fucking felt. Tossing your head back into the pillows you realized that Negan wasn’t kidding. It was incredibly strong leaving you panting when he finally turned it off. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to leave me in here like this? What if someone comes in?”

“No one comes into my room and if they did, they know better than to touch what’s mine,” Negan dragged his fingers down over your jawline, hovering his lips over yours. Finally lowering down, Negan claimed your lips in a kiss that took your breath away. When he pulled away and stood up from the bed, you immediately shook your head.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” you informed him looking down at the device that was perfectly pressed up against your g-spot and your clit providing an unbelievable amount of stimulation just from the fit of the device alone without Negan having it turned on. “I can just wait until your meeting is over.”

“Nope, no…” Negan denied, sucking at his bottom lip showing that he was proud of this whole thing. “It’s either this or nothing at all. Daddy controls your orgasms today until he’s ready to come and play or you get nothing.”

“Fuck Negan,” you hissed hearing his laughter follow and you swallowed down hard. You didn’t have much of a choice. You wanted Negan and if this was the only way, you were going to listen. It was demeaning, it was torture, but you wanted to be his. You wanted him. You’d just have to put up with the risk. “Okay.”

“I thought you’d be a good girl and agree to it,” Negan snickered holding the remote up giving it another wiggle. Clicking the button again had your hips bouncing up when the vibrations started again. This was why he had your wrists and legs tied. It was a form of torture that appealed to him knowing that you couldn’t do anything about it. “God, you look so fucking beautiful squirming at the center of my bed.”

Clutching your fingers shut, you whined with the way the vibrator immediately made your body shake. Your eyes slammed shut, your heart racing. Moans fell from your throat involuntarily and Negan shook his head, “Shh...there’s people in the other room. They are going to be able to hear you in my office if you keep being so loud.”

Right when it felt like you were going to come, Negan turned it off making you hiss out his name, “Fucking hell.”

“I’ll be back,” Negan winked after sliding the remote into his pocket. The room felt like it was spinning around you and you turned your head to see that he stopped at the door. “You be a good girl and I promise you that you won’t regret it.”

With a nod, you couldn’t find words when Negan chuckled and left the room leaving you at the center of his bed, tied up and desperate for an orgasm. Gazing around his bedroom, you wondered how you ended up here and why Negan thought this would be good to do with you. The two of you hadn’t even had sex yet.

Through the walls you could hear Negan’s booming voice and you knew that was his way of letting you know that he was there. You wondered what this whole thing really was. Why he was putting you through this. Maybe he was just that cruel. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that you were his to torture for however long he pleased.

Licking your lips, you wondered if you could wiggle your hips enough to get the device loose, but it also made you think about how Negan told you that if you were good that you would be rewarded. So you just laid back and waited. Muffled voices were heard through the wall and you listened carefully. Just when you felt like maybe Negan forgot about the device he had inside of you, you felt the buzzing start up again making you cry out.

Biting out into your bottom lip, you tried to hold back your cries while the strong vibrations flooded throughout your body. Undoubtedly Negan was enjoying this knowing exactly what he was doing to you. Closing your eyes, you licked at your lips and squirmed at the center of his bed. You wondered if Negan had put it on the strongest power, but when it started pulsing differently you realized that there were different patterns to the vibrator.

Lifting your head, you felt your muscles in your body tensing up. Everything inside of you was on fire. A warmth flooded at your core, your thighs starting to shake and just when you felt like you were about to come it came to an immediate stop. Scoffing, you buried your head back further into Negan’s pillows hating that he was tormenting you like this.

This time the wait didn’t last long and when he turned it back on, the vibration was stronger than the previous ones. Thrusting your hips up, you bounced up toward the sensation knowing that your body was already so sensitive. A rush flooded to your head making your vision black over. Moaning out, you trembled when this time Negan allowed you to reach that orgasm. It was so strong that you shook at the center of his bed, but you weren’t allowed to move much because of being tied down. Negan was a cruel man and you were beginning to understand that.

You thought it would be like the times before with Negan turning the device off, but instead the vibrations changed and the pulses were strong. Everything was sensitive as it was, so you whined and whimpered with it continuing to stimulate you.

“Fuck,” you tried to move knowing that your heart rate was pounding inside of you. Negan was keeping it on to see how loud he could get you. You knew at this point that you weren’t quiet enough for the people in the next room not to hear. This was amusing him because he definitely heard you. Thrashing back against his bed, your hips arched up and you were coming again. Except this time it was so much more powerful and you were shaking to the core. Your head ached, your body sore from how hard this orgasm actually was compared to the first. “Negan!”

Hearing you call out his name must have alerted him that you needed a break because the device turned off. Your body was still humming even with the device off. Frowning, you looked down and wondered if you would even be ready for Negan by the time he came back.

God knows how long you laid at the center of that bed. Negan knew exactly what he would be doing to your body. You were worn out after everything, drunk off all the orgasms that he had been able to pull from you with the vibrator. By the time he finally returned, you were weak against the center of his bed sweating and panting.

“Look at you,” Negan growled moving into the room, pulling his leather jacket off and tossing it onto the chair that was at the corner of the room. Pulling off the leather glove, Negan dragged his thumb across his bottom lip and snickered. “You are worn out. You took that shit like a champ, didn’t you?”

“You’re an asshole,” you whined watching him sit on the edge of the bed. Negan’s nose wrinkled and he reached out to grab the vibrator pulling it unhurriedly from your body. Arching your hips toward the movement, Negan let out an amused rumble seeing it covered in your release.

“I know,” Negan set the device down on the nightstand. Looking between your thighs, he bobbed his head and it showed that he was proud. “How many times did you come?”

“I…don’t know,” you were honest feeling his fingers stroking over the length of your extremely tingling sex. Negan pressed his index finger and middle finger inside of you while stroking the rough pad of his thumb over your sensitive clitoris. Mewling out, your hips arched up knowing that he was focusing on your g-spot with his long fingers.

“Who do you belong to?” Negan demanded an answer from you, using his free hand to grab a hold of your jawline to get you to look at him. Behind fatigued eyes, you stared out at him feeling the thrusts of his fingers extremely rough inside of you. Wet sounds followed the thrusts making you cry out. “Speak when you are spoken to.”

“You,” you felt his grasp getting tighter on your jaw. Swallowing down hard, you closed your eyes and felt your hips twitching. “Negan, I belong to Negan.”

“That’s right baby, you belong to me,” Negan responded, his eyes narrowing when he pulled his fingers away from your body before you could come again. Standing up, Negan muttered something under his breath before reaching for the perfectly clean white t-shirt that covered his body. Once he got it from his body, he dropped it onto the floor and then kicked out of his boots. “You soaked my bed.”

“You soaked your bed,” you commented, your eyes focused on his slender body while he pulled the belt he was wearing apart. Finally getting to see Negan’s body was a gift in itself. You just wished you weren’t tied up like this.

“I guess I should take credit for that,” Negan agreed with you, unzipping his pants and then tugging at the material. Getting his pants to his ankles, Negan stopped to gaze over your body. Squeezing at the large bulge at the center of his gray colored boxer briefs, Negan could see your lips parting and he smiled. “God, hearing you in there has me so fucking hard. If I didn’t get in here when I did, I may have fucking come in my pants hearing you crying out my name.”

“Why was your meeting in your office? You usually have your meetings on the first floor,” you reminded him hearing him snickering and you shook your head. “You wanted people to hear me, didn’t you?”

“Every once in a while, I like to remind people what’s mine,” Negan answered, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. Pushing the material down his body allowed his girthy, solid length to bounce free from the prison it was behind. Purring out, you felt your core immediately heating up again at the sight of his cock. Negan wasn’t lying, he was rock hard. The veins in his cock were prominent. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but notice his size. He was both long and thick. For so long you wondered if the arrogance truly matched what he had going on, but there was a reason that Negan was so damn cocky. He had plenty of reason to back it up. Standing up straight, Negan curled his fingers around his length drawing your eyes to the swollen tip while he sheathed his flesh in his grasp. “You like what you see?”

“Very much,” you answered, licking your lips when Negan got onto the bed on his knees beside you. Bracing himself careful enough, he leaned over you and traced the head of his cock over your wet lips. Allowing him to brush the velvety flesh over your lips, you remained still making Negan’s dimples suck in.

“Suck it,” Negan requested making your eyes hook with his. Parting your lips, you allowed him to press the tip of his cock between your lips. Flattening your tongue out against the tip, you did the best you could to tease his manhood. Between flicks of your tongue to you sucking and wetly kissing at the flesh you had Negan moaning which had to be a good thing. “Good girl.”

Hooking his fingers into your hair, Negan helped you bob your head over his length. Gagging slightly, you knew that this would be going much better if you had use of your hands. Regardless, you enjoyed the taste of him on your tongue while you dragged it along the underside of his cock with every pull back he made.

“Enough,” Negan pulled his hips back away from your wet lips, crawling in over you stroking his fingers over his slick erection. It gave you a moment to take all of him in appreciating his slender body. From his chest, down toward his abdomen to the v-line at his hips that led to the dark curls of hair at the base of his manhood had your body on fire. “You think you’re ready for this?”

“I’ll do my best,” you heard him chuckle as he lowered down over you. Getting comfortable, bracing his weight on his arms Negan kept his lips over yours. Lifting up, you tried to bring your lips together, but he was teasing you. Pouting, you enjoyed the warmth and weight of him over you, but you wanted to be pampered after having him torment you like he did. “My wrists hurt like hell and my fingers have gone completely numb. The least you can do is kiss me with that incredible mouth of yours.”

“Oh yeah?” his eyebrow arched in amusement, skimming his lips just over yours making a breath catch in your throat. Finally allowing his mouth to capture yours in a heated kiss made you purr against his mouth allowing him to brush his tongue over yours. “Is that better?”

“Much,” you whispered against his mouth, kissing over his bottom lip while he adjusted his weight and reached between the two of you to grab a hold of his cock. An arrogant smirk pressed in over Negan’s features when he teased the tip of his erection between your wet folds.

“How bad do you want this?” Negan pressed his hips forward allowing his cock to lay across your lower abdomen making you whimper feeling the weight of it over you. “Beg for it.”

“Please,” you arched your hips up toward him making him shake his head. “Please fuck me. Please. I need you. I need you so fucking bad.”

“Good girl,” Negan praised you, adjusting his weight and leading his girthy length toward your entrance. Lining it up with your already sensitive hole, Negan pushed his hips forward making you whine out. There was some resistance at first getting his thick length into you making him moan out. Looking between you, Negan watched his cock slowly disappear into your body stretching you out. Crying out, the way that Negan filled you left you aching, but wanting more at the same time. “You have such a tight little cunt.”

“Negan,” you felt his lips caressing over your jawline toward the side of your neck where he suckled at the flesh. Closing your eyes, you whimpered when you felt Negan filling you completely to the hilt. It made Negan moan out against your flesh before bringing his lips back to yours to kiss you dominantly making you whimper out. Nipping at his bottom lip, you shifted your hips feeling that he was stagnant inside of you and you wanted him to move, but he remained still.

“After this moment, you’re completely mine,” Negan informed you, his fingers grasping a tight hold of your jaw while he kissed over the side of your face. “Do you understand that?”

“I wouldn’t want to belong to anyone else,” you assured him, shuddering beneath him when his hazel eyes hooked with yours. His dimples sank in and he was certainly proud with that answer. Gifting you, he started to roll his hips, drawing his cock back before pushing forward making you purr out against his lips. “I’ve wanted to be yours for so long.”

“Good,” Negan nipped at your bottom lip giving it a tug before dragging his tongue out over the inside of your lip. Every plunge his cock made inside of you was strong with him setting a steady tempo between the two of you. It had you gasping with every thrust. After everything he put you through with the vibrator, you were so sensitive with his pubic bone providing enough friction against your clitoris with every roll his hips made over you.

Burying his head against the side of your neck, Negan’s moans had you on cloud nine. The smacking sounds of your skin filled his room and you loved the way it sounded, but also the way it felt. You were his and he was taking you in the way that he wanted. Shaking, you wished that you could wrap your legs around his waist, but he had his mind set on this whole thing.

“Negan,” you wailed out your body pulling up and away from his causing his cock to pull from you when you hit another orgasm that had you throwing your head back. An amused rumble fell deep from within Negan when he got up on his knees. Working to untie your legs, Negan rolled you onto your stomach making you grimace with the pain it caused in your wrists. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to walk back to my room after this.”

“Don’t worry baby, you can stay with me tonight,” Negan assured you smacking firmly over your full bottom. “You’ve been a good girl. You need to be praised and pampered tonight so you know that being a good girl gets you good things.”

“Will you unhook my hands?” you begged of Negan hearing him snickering against your ear when he moved in over you. “Please?”

“Not yet,” Negan shook his head, bracing his knees beside your hips. Leading his thick cock into you, Negan didn’t waste his time in thrusting into you fully. This time his thrusts were fast and hard making you cry into his pillows while his big cock filled you time and time again. “We’re going to have to have someone come in here and change these sheets though. They’re soaked.”

“If you keep it up, you’re going to get another round of soaking,” you urged him watching him brace his hands beside your body while the strength of his thrusts was causing you to bounce forward with every movement. Closing your eyes, you found yourself thankful. Even though he was using your body in the ways that he wanted, it felt good.

“You promise?” Negan growled against your jawline while he kissed up and over it. Smacking up against you, the headboard was hitting the wall firmly and you knew that you were getting the fuck of your lifetime. You just wondered if you would survive it. Whining with every movement, you could feel Negan’s cock throbbing inside of you and you turned your head to meet him in a kiss. Sucking at his tongue had him moaning out and you loved the sound of it. God, it was fueling your body. Everything was tingling and you did your best to bounce back into Negan’s movements. “You like being fucked by daddy’s big cock, don’t you?”

“Yes daddy,” you repeated what he wanted you to say while he sucked at your bottom lip. Negan’s moans matched yours. Your toes curled when Negan smacked harder up against you. “I’m going to come.”

“Me too,” Negan informed you keeping up with the pace of his thrusts chasing that orgasm for the both of you. When you hit your orgasm, you pulled your hips up and away from Negan, but he was eager to pull you back so he could get that release himself. Pounding into you with reckless abandon, Negan’s groans and grunts were so fucking hot. Slowing down, Negan’s cock throbbed inside of you when the first line of his cum started to fill you. Pumping his hot cum into you had your whines continuing and his moans vibrated against the side of your neck. “Goddamn. So fucking good baby.”

A few more thrusts inside of your body let you know that he emptied his release into you completely before falling in beside you on the bed. The warmth of his cum spilling out of you and down your thigh made you realize that you were fully his now.

“Please unlock the handcuffs,” you begged wanting to cuddle into him and have him hold you. Negan’s head was dropped back against the bed, an arrogant smile spread across his handsome features with the dimples drawing even more attention to it. “Fuck Negan, I’m begging you.”

“Not yet sweetheart, I need to have my heart calm down first,” Negan turned onto his side and leaned in close enough to kiss you rewarding you with his addictive kisses. When he pulled back and smiled, he reached up with his left hand to stroke his fingers over the side of your face and sighed. “You’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

A knocking sound was heard on the wall making your eyes get big and a mischief filled Negan’s features when Simon’s voice was heard on the other end, “Uh, Negan? Now that you’re done can we all get back to work?”

“Negan? What the fuck?” you gasped making Negan snicker when he moved across you to reach in the drawer to grab the keys to the handcuffs. “You had them in there while we were together?”

“I just wanted them to hear what a job well done sounds like,” Negan winked, allowing your wrists to fall down to the bed while he stayed over you on his knees. Speaking up, he smacked the wall once and laughed. “All good saviors. Get to work.”

“You’ve got issues,” you should have been mortified but you were more so amused. Wincing, you realized that your fingers were numb when you stroked your fingers up over the insides of Negan’s thighs toward his hips.

“And you fucking love it,” Negan insisted with a growl when your fingers curled around the shaft of his cock, caressing over his flesh. Lowering down, Negan claimed your lips with his again and sighed when he pulled back. “Because you’re just as fucked up as me. Which is why we make a good pair. Don’t you think?”

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