#colors on this fucked me up a little i'm not used to working with darks

[mariasont]

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive. 

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.  

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair. 

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle. 

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him. 

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there. 

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well. 

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction. 

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him. 

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that. 

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk. 

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb. 

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability. 

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reader x bimbo!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reader x female reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #Spotify

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your Alpha in the King's Dungeon

A/N: This was someone's request, but I lost the request, so I'm sorry but here it is!

(Alpha) Riordan x GN Omega Reader

General Summary: You've been summoned to a magical world to soothe beast they call Alpha.

Word count: 6.5K

TW: cozy alpha/omega dynamic, kidnapping to another world, gentle alpha, mention of war and a small bit of violence, alpha/omega smut, nesting, knotting, and biting

You woke, your back cold. This wasn't you bed. You smelled something burning, maybe sage or thyme. It smelled herbal. 

“Open your eyes, pretty, I know you're awake,” a nasally voice said. 

Your eyes blinked open, and you squinted at the light. Sitting up, you found yourself in a well-lit room. It looked like a sort of lab with glass vessels filled with brightly colored liquids. Sunlight poured in the large windows. The glass was thick and uneven, making the world outside blurry. It had to be old and crudely cast to look like that. 

“Welcome to my world, little omega,” the voice said. 

You turned to see an old man in a purple robe, looking at you expectantly. He was rather short but had oddly long fingers. His face was gnarled with wrinkles, and his teeth were jagged and yellow as if they'd been broken. 

“Omega?” you murmured, trying to make sense of the place. 

You'd gone to bed as you did every night, yet you woke up here. Where was here? 

“Where am I?” You asked. 

“I'm sure you have many questions,” he chuckled, “but I don't care to answer them. You may not live long enough for it to matter, and I'm short on time.”

“What?” You gasped, instinctively hopping up, but your body was not yours. 

The old man waved a gnarled claw, and you rose off the stone slab where he’d laid you and drifted behind him through a heavy wooden door. 

“Hey, where the fuck am I? Who are you?” You snapped at him, wriggling, desperate to escape. 

It was no use; whatever…magic he'd used on you kept you bobbing aloft just behind him. As he descended steep stone steps, he mumbled to himself. 

“I'm sure I've gotten the signature right this time,’ he muttered. “The last specimen’s pheromones were muddled. Theirs is much more pure. It has to work.” 

He stopped at a heavy iron door with a guard beside it holding a pike. 

“Help me! This guy is kidnapping me!” you shouted to him.

The guard's eyes slid to you for a moment, and you detected the slightest bit of pity. 

“Open the damn door!” The old man snarled. “The king will have all our heads if this doesn't work!” 

The guard gave you another somber glance before finding a ring of keys on his waist and unlocking the door. 

You did not want to go into the dark, smelly place he was taking you, but you floated like a feather on the wind right after him. 

Around you, large shadows loomed behind thick bars. Red eyes peered at you from the gloom. It was quiet at first but then…whatever they were started beating at their cages, howling like beasts. You could only see flashes of sharp teeth and claws. Fear silenced you and you only let out a miserable whimper. 

“Ah, here we are,” he said, stopping at one cell. 

The creature inside roared his outrage at the sound of the old man’s voice. 

There was the sickening snap of wood, and what must have been a bunk came flying at the bars. 

“Now, now, Riordan,” he clucked. “I have a new toy for you to play with. Don't rip this one to bits this time, hmm? If this works, you'll see sunlight soon.” 

The old man, swifter than he looked, opened the gate and tossed you inside. You landed in a pile on the floor and heard the ominous click of the metal lock behind you. 

You crab-walked back towards the gate, terrified of what creature he’d trapped you with. Were you to be food? He'd stolen you from your bed just to feed this…thing?

In the dark, you could only see red eyes, glaring at you, set in a massive form. It must have been eight feet tall and two times the width of a linebacker. 

“Please, please,” you whimpered. “Don't eat me.” 

The creature parted its lips and you could make out massive, sharp teeth. Instead of pouncing on you, it lifted its nose, sniffing the air. 

Staring at it, petrified with fear and confusion, you watched its red eyes dim to a soft glowing green…like sunlight filtering through leaves in spring. They were…pretty. 

The creature took a heavy step forward, his wide feet emitting a deep thud. He seemed interested in you. 

“H-hey,” you stammered. “That's a good…whatever you are…I'm a friend, not food.” 

His eyes narrowed on you, and a large hand emerged from the shadows. You held your breath, ready to be torn apart, but he only patted your head, as if you were a kitten. 

“Fascinating!” The old man said. 

At his voice, the creature growled, then let out a loud roar that sounded more desperate than angry. You shrieked and jumped out of his way as he rushed the door, throwing his shoulder against the bars. A blue light flashed in front of you, and the creature flew back into the far wall, collapsing into a pile with a heavy thunk. 

“I think it's worked!” The old man muttered. “He hasn't torn the arms off of the specimen. Further observations are necessary, but I must report this to the King!” 

“Hey!” You shouted as he scurried away, careful not to touch the bars. “You can't leave me here!”

The old man ignored you, and with a slam, the heavy metal door swung shut behind him. 

Around you, other creatures growled in the darkness, pacing the length of their enclosures. Unsure what to do, you tiptoed towards the shadowy figure slumped against the far wall. 

“You okay, big guy?” You asked. “He didn't kill you, did he?” 

Even though the creature was terrifying, you felt for him. No wonder he was in a bad mood being locked up in a dark, smelly cage.  

He let out a low groan, and you extended a hand, brushing his hair. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see he looked more human than monster. His teeth were far too large to be truly human, and the features of his face were too rugged, with harsh lines and a pronounced brow. Still, he wasn't ugly. He had an attractive cut to his jaw, and his hair, though it needed a brushing, was soft and maybe blond. It was hard to tell in the dark. 

A heavy hand grabbed your wrist, and you screamed, trying to yank your arm back. It was no use; he was too strong. Was this when he ripped your arm off? You braced for pain, but he only lifted his head and sniffed the inside of your wrist. 

“You…smell…amazing,” he said. 

His voice was low and rough, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. His eyes opened, and he looked up at you. They still glowed, but the red hadn't returned. 

“Y-you can talk?” You gasped. 

He let out a chuff devoid of humor. 

“I was human…once,” he said. “I can remember now. I used to talk a lot.” 

“If you're not human, what are you?” You asked. 

“An experiment,” he growled, squeezing your wrist. 

You whimpered, and he looked up at your hand, suddenly letting it go. He looked slightly ashamed. 

“I'm sorry, I,” he muttered. “I'm nothing but a monster now.” 

“Did that old man do this to you?” You asked. “Who is he?” 

He tipped his head back against the stone wall behind him. 

“The King's chief sorcerer,” he said. “He took us all from the army, injected us with Goddess know what, and we became like this.” 

He clutched his head. 

“I don't know how long it's been,” he moaned. “For so long, I could only see red, and then you came along.” 

His eyes focused on you. 

“I'm just a normal person,” you said. “I’m not sure what I could have done.” 

He leaned forward, burying his face in your chest. 

“Oh!” You squeaked. 

“Your scent,” he murmured. “the world becomes clear when I’m near you. You chase the red away.” 

His big arms circled you, and he pulled you into his lap, tucking his nose behind your ear. You felt the heat of his breath grazing your skin and shivered in his arms.  

“I like you here,” he murmured. “Well, not here…but with me.” 

“O-Oh,” you stammered. “Well, just your luck then, huh? Seems I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.” 

He let out another dry chuff. It was as if he'd forgotten how to laugh, but he was trying to remember. 

“Where are we?” You asked. “I went to bed somewhere else.” 

He hummed, thinking as he ran a heavy mitt over your head. 

“We must be in the South, near the Capital,” he said. 

“But where?” You asked. “I'm from Earth…(Y/C)? Heard of it?” 

He shook his head. 

“No, this is Swarin,” he said. “I've never heard of Earth or…(Y/C). Is it across the sea? Only pirates go that far.” 

“I don't think so,” you said. “The old asshole called me Omega. Do you know what that means?” 

At that, he nodded. 

“I don't really understand all the alchemy behind it,” he said in a low grumble. “But I'm an Alpha. A monster. And you…are soft and delicate, an Omega. We…are compatible…I think.” 

“Compatible?” you hummed. 

“The sorcerer has been looking for Omegas. There aren't any in Swarin. He's brought down samples…but they never did…what you do.” 

“What happened to them all? The samples?” You whispered. 

He let out a low groan. 

“I don't know, but I can guess,” he said. “I only remember screams…and blood.” 

His deep voice cracked. 

“What I did…” he sniffled. “What have I become? Why won't they destroy me?” 

He pressed you to him like a teddy bear, and you felt moisture on your neck where he'd tucked his head. 

Your heart raced, but you reached up and rubbed his cheek. 

“It's….it's okay,” you said. “That wasn't you. The old man, the sorcerer, did this…you have no control. When I first saw you, you were out of your mind.” 

“I would have killed you,” he sobbed. 

You patted his head. 

“But you didn't,” you said. “I think …I hope it's okay now.” 

You both looked up as you heard the rusty squeak of the metal door open. 

“This way, your Radiance,” you heard the sorcerer say. 

“This better be good, Elias,” another voice grumbled. “God, this place smells like rotting meat.” 

“Don't mind that it's the beasts. They tear apart rats for fun. Come, come. This way,” he replied. 

A man with a crown appeared next to the sorcerer in front of the cell. He wasn't quite so old but had a white beard and a regal countenance. 

“Look, your Radiance,” he said. “See how the beast is soothed? He clutches the specimen like a pet.” 

The king looked at the two of you with interest. 

“And you have a source for these…Omegas?” He asked. 

“Yes, your Radiance!” He said, clicking his long nails together with delight. “I've found a world through the ether filled with Omegas. This is only the first. I can bring many here. Once we pair the Alphas, they will become useful.” 

“They’d better be,” the King snarled, obviously annoyed. “This whole project has been a mess from the start. You promised me super soldiers, and what I’ve gotten is uncontrollable monsters. Can the thing speak?” 

You frowned at his description of Riordan as a “thing." He was monstrous, yes, but he had been human once- he still had a soul. 

“Riordan,” the sorcerer snapped. “Greet your king!” 

Riordan let out a low growl that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. 

The King looked unimpressed. 

“If you don’t cooperate, I will take your new pet from you,” Elias hissed. “You want to keep them, don’t you? If you are good, you will not be separated. You’ll have good food and sunlight. You’ll leave this dungeon, but you must speak like a man, not a beast.” 

Riordan bared his teeth, but you patted his hand. 

“Speak to him, Riordan,” you whispered. “It’s a step forward. You’re not alone now. We’ll figure this out together.” 

His jade eyes flicked to you and then back up to the King. 

“Your- Your Highness…apologies,” he ground out. 

The King smiled and patted Elias on the back. 

“Excellent work,” he said. “Secure the beast and bring him to our war camp for a demonstration in the morning.” 

He looked a little sickly. 

“I can’t spend another moment in this filth,” he grumbled, turning on his heels and marching out of the door.

The sorcerer looked at the two of you hungrily. 

“You heard the King,” he said. “Time to return to the surface. Guards! Bring the collars!” 

A handful of guards appeared holding two metal collars. One big and one small. 

“Go in there and apply them!” He told them, and they all looked horrified at one another. No one moved. 

“Go in now,” he snapped, clapping. “you're going to comply, aren't you, Riordan? Because you want to keep the Omega?” 

Riordan narrowed his eyes, but you squeezed his hand. 

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Maybe they'll give us some real food.” 

You tried to sound positive. Riordan looked at you, then lowered his head. 

“I will comply,” he said. 

The guards slowly entered the cell, the one holding the collars first. 

“Don't mind the collars,” the sorcerer told you. “They are a good thing. They keep you tied together with an invisible tether so your enemies can't separate you on the battle field.” 

“What else do they do?” You asked, not believing the sorcerer for a moment. 

“They also have the same energy as the bars,” he said. “If either of you misbehave, you can be punished.” 

You looked warily at the soldier holding your collar, but you reasoned that the collar may be easier to escape than the dungeon, so you remained still as he snapped it around your neck. The cold metal was uncomfortable but could be tolerated. 

The soldiers were eager to get out of Riordan's way as he rose, stepping heavily towards the gate with you in his arms. 

The sorcerer looked pleased. 

“Now to the baths,” he said. “You can't perform for the King stinking like you do.” 

Riordan gave you an uncertain look, and you nodded just slightly. 

“It's okay,” you whispered. “Won't a bath be nice?” 

You watched his jaw twitch, but he followed silently behind Elias as he led you past the thick iron door. The baths were across the building you were in. Outside of the dungeon, it was quite nice, with potted plants and paintings of flowering meadows decorating the stone walls. Sun filtered in through leaded glass windows, giving you a glimpse at the land you’d been summoned to. From what you could see, there were more stone buildings with people going about their days. 

“You have thirty minutes,” a guard barked sharply, drawing your attention back to the task at hand. 

He opened a door, and steam scented like lavender drifted out. The room was tiled with a blue and white motif, with a large blue pool in the center. Riordan set you down, attempting to lift your shirt from your back.

“Hey! I can do that!” you snapped. 

His eyes flashed, but not red, a rich gold, and he looked contrite.

“I can’t help it, Omega. My instincts tell me to tend to you.” 

You huffed. You weren’t sure what to make of this dynamic, but Riordan seemed bent on caring for you. If it kept the red away, you figured you ought to allow it. 

“Fine! Go on, but ask next time.” 

You eyed him carefully. 

“I’m not used to your size.” 

A smirk grew on his lips, and a deep noise rumbled in his chest. It sounded like…a happy cat, but deeper. More of a rumble, like thunder from far away. 

“Are you purring?” you ventured. 

“I think it is natural to calm my Omega…the wizard told me many things I didn’t understand until now.”

He tugged your shirt from you, then your pants, and paused, his fingers skimming the underwear you wore. Though you weren’t used to being naked in front of a stranger, you couldn’t bathe in your underwear. You leveled him with a stern stare.  

“Continue, but don’t get any bright ideas.” 

He nodded, slipping the small garments off of you. When you were ready, he dipped you in the hot water, following close behind when he’d removed his own clothes. The second he got settled in the water, he scooped you into his lap and started to scrub you. 

“What are you doing now?” you rasped. 

Underneath you, you could feel all of his power; the massive muscles, hard planes against your soft skin, and something…large poking you in the back. 

“You smell…like strange things. I will wash you, then I will scent you.”

You figured that if he had a better-than-average sense of smell, he would probably be able to smell the cheap soap you used, which was filled with chemicals. 

“What does ‘scent you’ mean?” you asked as he lifted your arm. 

As the smell of rot from the dungeon washed away, you were suddenly aware of a sweet cinnamony smell coming from Riordan. 

“I need to mark my Omega, so others know you’re mine,” he said, seeming proud that he could recall such facts. “It will not hurt.” 

“Oh…Okay…” 

He was very methodical, making sure every inch of skin was cleaned. When he was satisfied you were spotless, his nose dipped to the crook of your neck, and he purred. 

“You smell so good, Omega,” he breathed into your skin. 

The thick shaft pressed against your body thickened and hardened, drawing breath from your lungs. 

“We need to clean you,” you stammered, swirling around to straddle him. 

His cock patted your most sensitive spot, and it took some effort on your part not to look down. He watched you with wide eyes as you carefully scrubbed his hair with the lavender-smelling soap sitting on the rim of the tub. When you rinsed it away, you found he had pretty wheat-colored hair. Scraping it back with your fingers, he looked a bit more tidy, though he needed a trim. He didn’t wait even a minute after you were done helping him scrub the years of dungeon nastiness away, snuggling into your neck, running the spot just under his ear down your arms. 

You yelped, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Riordan!” you squealed, and he looked up, his cheeks ruddy. 

“I have to rub my scent glands on you,” he informed you matter-of-factly before diving back in.

You tried to ignore the heat that pooled in your stomach as his cinnamon scent filled your lungs. Your breath drew short, and every sensitive spot on your body perked up under his touch. You weren’t sure if you were compatible with the giant, but your body certainly believed you were. As he rubbed himself against you, his cock gingerly brushed your stomach. Closing your eyes, you desperately tried to think about anything but sex. 

Riordan’s head rose suddenly, cocked to the side. 

“The guard is back,” he muttered. 

A moment later said guard appeared in the door, grimacing. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going at it in the bath, fucking beasts.” 

“W-we weren’t-” you started to say, but your words were cut off by a growl. 

“Don’t shout at my mate,” Riordan grumbled as he scooped you out of the water. Standing at his full height, looking down on the guard you saw the annoying intruder’s eyes widen, and he took an instinctive step back. Clearing his throat, he waved the pile of clothes he held at him. 

“Come on,” he tried to assert, his voice cracking. “The King is waiting.” 

You quickly dressed in the light cotton pants and loose shirt he’d provided, having to pause for a moment so Riordan could refresh his scent on the new items. 

Though you could walk, you found your legs swinging in the air as your Alpha tucked you in the crook of his arm. 

“Where are we going?” you whispered to him as the guard led you out of the building. 

“We are at war…or we were. To a war camp, I assume.” 

Around you, a pleasant, medieval village buzzed with activity. As you passed, people gaped at Riordan’s size. He was at least a foot and a half taller than the tallest among them. Your eyes danced around the archaic scene with wonder. Where had this wizard spirited you off to? 

Ahead of you, a shrill grinding noise drew your attention. With five guards on each size manning lever handles the massive gate of the city opened to a sprawling wilderness. An overgrown cobblestone road cut through the forested hills, flowers blooming through the cracks in the stones. Dappled sunlight spotted the forest floor, lighting falling leaves like sparkling emeralds. In Riordan’s arms you felt him suck in a heavy breath. 

“Nice to breathe fresh air, huh?” you asked and he smiled. 

Despite the collars, this was far preferable to the stinking dungeon. Your body shook with the pleased purr emanate from his chest. Hours passed, marching along the winding trail. You could only assume it was early spring by the crisp, cool air and the early blooming daffodils growing from every spot of sun. 

As you turned a corner Riordan grunted and you glanced up to see him frowning. 

“What is it?” you whispered. 

“I can smell the camp from here. It’s much closer than it used to be…not a good sign.” 

You blinked at him. 

“Do you think the war has been going on for all the years you’ve been captive?” 

He nodded, jaw ticking, as he held you close.  

“I smell blood and rotting flesh.” 

You swallowed hard, sniffing the air. Your scene of smell was not any better than it had been and all that you caught was Riordan’s cinnomin and cardamom musk. The Omega emerging inside of you had you cuddling your head into his chest. It was hard to believe you were some magical creature, designed to compliment this massive beast, but your body and instincts were already caught up. 

His purr soothed your anxiety and you wanted to roll around in his scent. You wouldn’t have liked them under any circumstances, but the longer you bonded with Riordan the more bloodthirsty thoughts about his captors filled your mind. 

Freedom, your Omega crooned, Freedom to mate, to nest, to rear his pups. 

Before you could catch yourself, you were fisting his shirt, the urge to rearrange it to your liking driving your fingers. 

“Soon, Omega,” he purred. “Soon you can make your nest.” 

The impatient, emerging Omega huffed at him. He chuckled, allowing himself a moment of amusement before his attention returned to the road ahead. The sounds of metal clanging and shouting soldiers signalled your arrival. 

The camp was an ugly, dirty place. Smokey bonfires smothered your breaths and soldiers, some clearly injured, covered in blood scuttled around. Your guard guided the two of you through the hastily erected tents. Some were merely a bit of leather stretched between some odd poles. The one you stopped at was the finest of them all, made with lengths of canvas and gold and silver threads. 

“Gold threads at a war camp? A waste,” Riordan scoffed quietly, following your eyes. “Money would be better spent on bandages and rations. The enemy doesn’t care for such indulgences.” 

You blinked up at him. 

“You know a lot about war?” 

His eyes narrowed as he thought. 

“I believe I ranked captain when I was taken.” 

“Wait here,” the guard ordered before he entered the tent. A moment later the king emerged surrounded by his entourage. 

He smiled up at the both of you, not a friendly smile. It was calculating and cool. 

“Enjoy the walk, creature?” he asked, his lips carrying a smirk. “Nice to be out in the sun again, isn’t it?” 

You felt the growl building in your Alpha’s chest and patted him to calm him. He glanced down at you and you flicked your head just slightly to tell him not to fight this. Instead, he gave the King a half bow, careful not to jostle you. 

Pleased, the King smacked his hands together. 

“Now is the time to work for your supper,” he announced. “You’ll be accompanying a regiment to flank the enemy in the hills. If you make it back and do as your told, there will be food for your return.” 

“We will not be fed now?” you asked. “He will need energy to fight your enemy.” 

The King scowled at you and one of his guards slammed his spear into the dirt.

“Learn to show your king proper respect,” he snarled. 

You felt Riordan’s arm tighten around you, but he gritted out an apology. 

“Please excuse my Omega. They are not used to our ways.” 

He set you down, patting your head. 

“Stay here where it’s safe. I’ll be back soon.” 

The King laughed outloud. 

“Oh no, your little Omega will be going with you. I’ll have no mishaps if you go rogue.” 

At that Riordan growled. 

“It’s too dangerous. They are not a soldier!” 

This time the guard rubbed a strange crystal he had around his neck and Riordan spasmed as his collar shocked him. 

“Silence creature, you’ll do as your King wills!” 

You tugged on his shirt, asking to be picked back up. King’s edict or no, you didn’t want to leave Riordan’s side. He gave you a wary glance before he scooped you back up, panting from the shock. 

“Aye, your majesty,” he finally said on a heavy breath. 

The King gave Riordan a haughty look, high on the idea that this creature served him, only. 

“Escort them to the battlefield!” he announced before returning to the comfort of his tent. 

The soldiers around you looked wary, be it from Riordan’s great size or what lay ahead, you couldn’t tell. However, this time you smelled your destination long before you arrived. The scent of death was on the wind. 

As you drew closer, the scent wound around the sound of screaming and metal clanging. In either realm, you’d never seen a battle before and it was nothing like the movies. All of the parts were there, dead bodies, swords, shields, sweating soldiers, but it was all so much more. At the back, some captain shouted orders, but nothing about this seemed orderly. The soldiers had long broken whatever formation they had been in and it was clear the enemy had them pressed. 

“This is no good. The King will be overtaken by nightfall,” Riordan whispered to you. 

The captain seemed acutely aware of this fact, a bit of hope in his expression when Riordan appeared. 

“Into the fray beast!” he shouted. “Drive them back or we’ll all be skewered!” 

Needing his hands, Riordan reluctantly put you down. 

“Stay close, Omega,” he murmured, his large jaw setting. 

Your heart pattered in your chest, holding on the the back of his shirt as he waded into the bloody mess. Enemies flew at him swords raised, but he threw them back with little more than a wave of his arm. You tried to stifle your screams, lest he be distracted, shuffling behind him. The enemy was thick, bearing down on the two of you from seeming every direction. 

You jerked a dagger loose from one of the bodies you past, swinging it at a soldier who’d gotten too close. 

The enemy’s face was hidden by silver armor carrying a massive sword. A desperate scream emerged from your chest as he bore down on you with the sharp end of the blade. Riordan turned to come to your rescue, but it was too late. The sword made contact with the collar around your neck, knocking you sideways. Riordan roared, grabbing the soldier and ripping his sword arm off. You gasped in the bloody mud of the battlefield, prepared to meet you maker. Only, you didn’t die…in fact, you weren’t hurt at all. The collar around your neck slipped off you, sliced clean in half. 

Free, you sat up, eyes wide with confusion. Riordan, however, was quick and sharp, prying the sword from the disembodied arm’s grasp. 

“Elven metal,” he gasped, green eyes glowing. 

Before you could question him, you’d been tossed over his shoulder and he made a B-line to the forest’s edge. In the chaos, your guards hadn’t even noticed, busy fighting back the enemy the best they good. As soon as you were safely past the treeline, he turned the sword, which looked like little more than a cooking knife in his hand, to his own neck. The collar popped off with little trouble and Riordan massaged the sore skin where he’d been burned. 

“What now?” you gasped, still eyeing the battle behind you with concern. 

“Now we run,” he announced. 

Before you could respond, he picked you back up and sprinted into the forest. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as trees flew by. 

“The mountains, it ought to be safe there.” 

There was little you could do but hold on tight and peek over his shoulder to be sure you weren’t followed. You must have dozed off, because you woke in a strange place…on a bed. The sheets were itchy wool, but warm enough. In fact, you were quite warm. Blinking you looked around. A cheery fire roared in a stone fireplace and the scent of the stew boiling in a pot filled your lungs. You found yourself in a little cabin. There was only one room, but it came furnished with the bed you were on, a rocking chair, and a small table with a log bench. 

“Riordan?” you called, though you were the only person in the room. 

A few moments later the door opened. You could see it was snowing outside and a puff of icy air hit your face. 

Your alpha brushed snow off his shoulders before he smiled at you. 

“You slept a long time Omega,” he chuckled, handing you a pile of what looked like linens. 

“What’s this?” you asked. “Where are we?” 

“In the mountains.” 

You looked down at the pile he’d set on your lap. 

“What are these?’ 

“Some blankets for your nest. They’re not very nice, but I’ll get you better ones soon.” 

“Where did they come from?” 

“The orc village next door. After I dropped you off here, I went looking for food and stumbled on some very surprised orcs.

They have no great love of humans, so when I explained our situation, they asked if I would join their patrol in exchange for some supplies to get us started. With my size, they see me as one of their own, I suspect.” 

“They don’t mind we’re staying in this cabin?” 

He shook his head. 

“It’s a patrol cabin, we’d be staying in it anyway. We can stay as long as we like, or move into the village if we want.” 

He grinned, pleased he could provide for you. Your Omega side purred in your head and without thinking you started organizing the furs and blankets to form a proper nest. It came instinctively to you, where everything ought to go for maximum comfort. While you were busy with that, Riordan shuffled about the cabin, straightening things and finally spooning two bowls of stew for you. 

“C’mon Omega,” he said, setting your soup on the table. “You can fuss more with your nest after dinner.” 

"Your eyes are still green? I thought you'd go red without me."

His eyebrows jumped as he considered that thought.

"I think with your scent all over me, it held it off. Perhaps it will work even better when I've given you my bite."

Your cheeks warmed at the prospect of his teeth on your neck.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the warm food filled your stomach. After all you’d been through, you felt safe. The cabin was already filled with Riordan’s comforting scent. Belly full and your nest on it’s way to a proper state, your Omega mind turned it’s attention to other matters. Your eyes drifted over Riordan’s strong shoulders, down to his thick hands. You’d always liked hands and his long strong fingers, lined with stiff veins sent heat pooling in your core. 

He looked up from his soup suddenly, sniffing the air and giving you a wicked smile. 

“Are you ready for me, Omega?” he asked and you didn’t have to wonder what he meant. 

Your body already knew. Purring, he abandoned his meal and gently set you in your nest, examining your features closely. Your cheeks burned under his careful inspection and some feral part of you wanted to tear off his clothes. 

His green eyes flashed gold and a smug smirk spread across his lips. 

“Present yourself to me, Omega,” he purred. “Invite me into your nest.” 

Those words in his grumbly bass, flicked a switch inside you. Your logical self slipped into a fog of lust, your instincts telling you to undress. With trembling hands you tugged your shirt over your head, then slipped off your pants, finally your damp underwear went. As nature told you, you scooted to the back of your nest to make room for his big body, then tipped your head to expose your neck to him. 

He thundered his approval with a deep growl. 

“Sweet little Omega,” he hummed, crawling across the sheets to you like a hungry panther. Your first kiss was soft and sweet, but was soon followed by his greedy mouth, eating you up. Your tongues and teeth clashed. He seemed desperate to taste you, pushing you onto your back to pin you to the bed. 

“Let me out,” he growled, his husky demands making your spine arch. 

Your most secret place wept for him, smearing your desire across the blankets you’d arranged. You carefully unfastened his pants, his cock bobbing to greet you. Precum dribbled down the length of it and you gave it a curious stroke. It was so big, hot, and ready for you. Under your touch, he hissed in pleasure, egging you on. It seemed impossible that that would fit inside of you, but you wanted to try. You wanted to please him, seduce him, so he’d give you his bite. 

The concept echoed in the haze enveloping your mind. 

His bite? He’s going to bite me. 

You weren’t afraid. You knew in some primordial corner of your consciousness that his bite was good. It was exclusive. With his bite you were his and he was yours. 

When your gentle teasing became too much, he flipped you on your stomach, big hand fisting your hair. 

“You were made for me, omega, but I won’t force you,” he informed you. “Tell me now. Do you want my bite?” 

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, eyelashes fluttering at the pressure on your scalp. 

“Be a good Omega and say the words,” he chided. 

“Yes, Alpha…I want your bite,” you whispered. 

“When we are like this, you will always call me Alpha.” 

“Yes, Alpha,” you moaned, body lighting up as you did what was natural to you and submitted. 

He let out a possessive chuff and you felt him nudge your legs further apart to accommodate his width. You were already plenty wet, but Riordan needed his scent in your most secret place, spreading his precum on your clenched channel.

His sticky fingers drifted over your body, covering you in his essence. You were his and he needed you to know it. 

“All of this is mine,” he hummed in somewhat of a trance, stuffing his fingers into your mouth so you could taste him. 

Unable to speak, you whimpered and sucked, the flavor of his spice on your tongue. While the fingers of one hand pushed into your mouth, the other tested your slick tunnel. Your muscles clenched at his intrusion, pleasure and need forcing you to push your hips back to seek your pleasure. 

“Good omega,” he purred, pushing another finger inside, “You’re going to take me just fine.” 

After thrusting and scissoring until your arms collapsed under you, your face pressed into the pillow and you ass sticking up, you felt the round head of his cock pushing against your core. 

“Relax. You can take it.” 

Tears slid down your cheeks as he entered you. He was large, extremely large, but your body performed some kind of Omega magic, stretching to accommodate him. He let out a gutteral grunt as he bottomed out inside. 

“So tight and hot.” 

He gave you one small thrust, to test you. 

“Do you like that?” 

“Yes, alpha!” you wailed into the pillow. 

You’d had sex before, but it was nothing like the sense of sheer domination you felt with his massive cock moving in you. Your pleasure was his, your body was his, your mind was his. 

“Show me your neck.” 

You tipped your head to bare your skin to him. He settled a hand on the spot where your throat and shoulder came together, holding you open for him as he slowly revved up his thrusts. With every ragged drive your mind unwraveled. 

Your alpha was fucking you. Your body gave him pleasure. Your cheeks burned with a sense of Omega accomplishment. You’d lived your whole life not knowing that this was what you were made for. Your heady mewls filled the little cabin as he rutted you. He curled his hands around your body, playing with your sex with his fingers. His touch drove you deeper and deeper into madness and you whimpered for more, pleading and begging into the pillow. 

He pushed you higher and higher until you were ready to implode. Seeing the time was right, Riordan bared his teeth, sinking them into your neck. It was impossible to tell if he timed it just right to bite as you came or if the bite caused you to cum, but it really didn’t matter. Suddenly you were in the stars, a sensation beyond an orgasm rolling through you along with the heat of your Alpha’s cum spilling into you. 

It felt good, and right, and explosive. You let out a yelp as colors sparkled in your vision and pressure built in your channel. 

“Wh-what?” you could only stammer. 

“Shhh, shhh, Omega, all is well. You’ve taken my knot.” 

He rocked the engorged rock into you as he stroked the most pleasurable spot with your fingers. The pressure turned into bliss and you melted into him as he licked the bite on your neck. 

“You did so good, taking my bite and my knot,” he purred, calming you. “You are a perfect Omega…so perfect.” 

He rolled on his side, smoothly taking you with him so as not to disturb the shaft linking the two of you. 

“I’m yours now?” you squeaked, thoughts still scattered. 

It was the only thing you could put together. 

“Yes, sweet one. You’re mine.” 

You let your body relax, his scent perfuming your nest. You were safe, marked, and all was as it should be. 

Bluesky -- Carrd -- Commissions -- Instagram -- Threads -- Subscribestar -- Art

#omegaverse #monster x girl #monster romance #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster fluff #x reader #alpha x reader #alpha fluff #omegaverse fluff #alpha x omega #alpha man #x gn reader #monster x gn reader #gender neutral y/n #monster x gender neutral reader

[lunacias]

statement of jonathon sims, regarding a childhood encounter with a book formerly possessed by jurgen leitner

#the magnus archives #jonathon sims #tma #jon sims #magnuspod #rusty quill #a guest for mister spider #about to start s5 so no spoilers pls #that being said #ep 81 still fucks me up #(spoilers for the end of s4) #something something the way [i open the door] parallels a guest for mr spider #both choices of opening or not opening the door taken from him #obv knocking the door wouldn't have been his choice either but! #said this on twitter but #oh to be caught in a web long before you could ever understand what it means #colors on this fucked me up a little i'm not used to working with darks #do you see my vision though do you see th #y'all will not belive how many color iterations this went through #tw blood #tw scopophobia #tw spiders

[scarletlizzard]

Inked Desires - Part 2

Read Part 1 right here

Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.

Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader

Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication

Masterlist

A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.

Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞

That being said, there will be a part 3 😄

"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.

"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.

That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.

You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.

Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.

"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.

"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.

You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.

"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.

"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.

"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.

"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.

"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.

You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.

An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.

"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.

Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."

You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.

"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.

As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.

"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.

"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.

"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.

"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.

"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.

"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.

As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.

"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.

"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.

From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.

It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.

There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.

"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.

"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.

"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."

You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.

"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.

"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.

"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.

****

Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.

You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.

But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.

You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.

"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.

"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.

"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.

"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.

"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.

It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.

"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.

If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.

You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.

"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.

You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.

"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.

"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.

Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.

"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.

You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.

"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.

"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.

"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.

"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.

When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.

After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.

You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.

Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.

"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.

You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.

"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.

"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.

"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.

"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.

Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.

At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.

You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.

"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.

Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.

You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.

"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.

"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.

You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.

"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.

As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.

With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.

"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.

"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.

Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.

"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.

"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.

"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.

At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.

When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.

You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.

Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.

"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.

Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.

"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.

"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.

She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.

"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.

"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.

Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.

"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.

Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.

Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.

"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.

"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.

The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.

After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.

"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.

"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.

****

"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.

After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.

She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.

"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.

"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.

"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.

You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.

"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.

That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?

"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.

Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.

Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.

"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.

"No, not -"

"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.

"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.

You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"

And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.

"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.

***

A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.

Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.

Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.

But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #gp!Natasha x reader #marvel #marvel one shot #part 2

[byechristopher]

⠀

I hate you, too.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT.

Author's note: okay so, I was listening to Les – Childish Gambino, and this idea came to mind because uhm, I love Chris, I love parties, I love angry, messy, toxic sex. So, sue me. I got carried away so, super long. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: this, once again, is pure filth. Super long, didn't proof-read so fml, angry & rough sex, toxic sex, slapping, choking, semi-public. Just a mess. Minors dni!

The lights are so damn bright in here, I can see blue, red, purple, all kinds of colors, everywhere. Not that I'm really complaining, this place is so dark that I can barely see anything – only when the lights flash. I can see people everywhere, their silhouettes, dancing, kissing, drinking.

I quickly pour myself a drink, making sure I'm keeping it safe in my hand; I haven't been in a house party in ages. But I remember how messy they get, I know everyone will pass out at some point. I'm trying to search my friend group with my eyes but it is almost impossible – how big is this goddamn house?

"Hi! You made it!" a friend screams when she sees me and I smile. I try to greet everyone but my eyes meet someone's face that I really didn't want to see here. My ex.

"What is he doing here?" I groan, turning to glare at my friend.

"I'm sorry, babes, he literally just came. I texted you. He's friends with the host, Jake, I didn't know." she has an apologetic face and I check my phone to realise she did text me about it. Fucking hell.

I can feel his blue eyes on my body, burning it like daggers on fire. I try to avoid him as much as possible and the fact that he looks this good, doesn't make it very easy. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans and I can't help but steal a few glances. He's already looking at me. He's smirking.

Fucking asshole.

"Hi, pretty." he is next to me now, dangerously close to me, as I take a sip of my drink.

"What do you want, Chris?" I roll my eyes.

"That's not how you treat your ex." he scoffs, looking around playfully before looking at me again. I turn my head to look at him, too.

"Let's not open that topic here." I try to push him away, his body doesn't really move.

"I agree. Let's talk about the car sex we had a few days ago." he smiles and you would think he's talking about the most innocent thing. His hands still in his pockets, he looks cool and unfazed by my angry glare.

"Shut the fuck up, Chris. Don't you have anywhere else to go, anything else to do?" I yell. Now I'm facing him, my body turned towards him.

"I'd like to do you." he comes closer to my ear and I sigh, downing my drink before turning my back on him. I am afraid I won't be able to hold myself back this time either.

"Well, I don't."

"Yeah?" his chin is touching my shoulder and I can feel his jeans pressed against my butt, "so if I touched you now, you wouldn't be wet?" he hums.

I am not wet. I am dripping. But that doesn't mean anything, right.

"You're not allowed to touch me anyway." I dodge his fucking question.

"Well, you weren't saying that when you were pressed against the car door." he chuckles, "you're wet, then." he whispers but it's enough for me to hear.

"Not for you. Maybe for your friend, Jake." I smirk, knowing this will stop his attack. He's always been extremely jealous. So have I.

"Fuck you." he almost growls in my ear, but the smirk still stays on. He turns me around and as soon as he says that, one of our favourite songs starts to play. Les by Childish Gambino, "fuck you.. can I have this dance?"

I can't help but chuckle a little, which I try to hide immediately. The timing, the line he used from the song, this songs specifically, him. Fucking Chris.

I quickly grab him and drag him in the center of the room that we're in, he holds onto my hand tightly and brings me closer, pressing my back against his chest. We dance to the music, he's not moving much but I can tell he's enjoying the little show I put on for him. My butt is pressed against him then whole time and I can feel the bulge in his jeans. Good.

I turn around and continue to dance with him, my hands traveling to his back to grip his shirt and pull him as close as possible. The part in the song that we love the most comes on and he cups my cheeks, pressing his forehead against mine as he looks into my eyes. We're both singing the lyrics.

"Oh, girl, I wanna know, are you ready to cry? 'Cause I'm no good, no good.." his playful smile never leaves his face.

"Oh, girl, I wanna try, I'm an awful guy and I'm always away.." my lips curl up into a playful smirk as well, my hands sneak under his shirt and I dig my nails into his lower back.

"And I'm tryin' to say, I'm a piece of shit.." he stops singing and the next second, he's kissing me. I fucking hate myself for kissing him back as hungrily as I did.

He grabs my hand and makes me follow him – nothing else matters, as the song says. Only us. We practically run up the stairs and I see a wooden door, he seems like he knows this place. My friend did tell me he's friends with the host.

He opens the door and then locks it once we're inside the room. It's a bathroom, not very big and the light is so dim, I'm not sure if it is there to match the party's vibe or if this dude just doesn't like actual lighting in the house. We don't waste anytime – Chris picks me up and sets me down on the counter next to the sink, my dress rides up just enough for him to move closer, pushing my legs apart with his body. We can still hear the music from here.

I take his shirt off immediately, throwing it somewhere behind him before wrapping a finger around his chain, pulling him closer for yet another hungry kiss. He grabs the hem of the dress to push it up, my skin meeting the cold counter but it is soon replaced by Chris' large hands. He squeezes my butt, pushing me forward so that his bulge rubs against me. He sneaks a hand in between us, his fingers rubbing my soaked panties.

"Is this for Jake, hm?" he grabs my bottom lip in between his teeth, biting it roughly.

"Maybe." I moan, leaning forward to take his nipple in my mouth, flicking it with my tongue.

He moans, "why are you here then?" he puts pressure on my clothed pussy and let go of his nipple, throwing my head back.

"Fuck off." I groan, moving my hips so that I'm rubbing myself on his fingers.

"You're dying to have my dick inside of you." he whispers, chuckling.

"And you're dying to have me in any way you can." I push him away, jumping off the counter and quickly pulling his jeans down together with his Calvin Klein boxers, "isn't that why you keep following me around, hm?" spitting on my own hand, I grab his dick, rubbing up and down while staring into his eyes the whole time. They're filled with lust, anger, passion. He moans.

"Fuck off." he groans this time, his head falls on my shoulder as I jerk him off, both of his hands grab the counter on each side of me. He thrusts into my hand.

All of a sudden, he slaps my hand away and turns me around, making me press both of my hands on the mirror in front of us, pushing my lower back down so that I arch my back and spread my legs. His hands are on my breasts now, pushing my dress now so that they're free for him to see and touch. With one hand he pushes the dress up to reveal my ass as well, the dress now only covering my stomach and a small part of my back. I don't dare to move, I only watch him as he pulls my panties down – he spreads my ass and spits, not that he needed that, I'm already dripping.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" I groan, pushing my back against him.

"Beg for it." he slaps my ass a few times as he smirks.

"Chris, fucking hell. Fuck me already." I say but he's not pleased. He slaps my skin again and I groan, gently hitting the mirror out of frustration. His cock rubs against my clit and I lose it, "fucking.. Chris! Please, fuck me. I want you inside me." I whine. He smiles. Thank fuck.

He finally pushes inside of me and my eyes roll to the back of my head as I look at him in the reflection of the mirror. He pushes his cock all the way inside me and grabs my hair in a ponytail, wrapping it around his hand to push me back every time he thrusts in.

"Fuck.. fuck.." I moan, licking my fingers before dragging them down my body to rub my clit, always looking at him, as he fucks me roughly. My fingers touch his dick every now and then, it makes him moan a little louder. He leans forward to sink his teeth into the skin of my shoulder as he watches me cry out in both pain and pleasure – with his free hand, he grabs my hand that was rubbing my clit, bringing to his mouth to lick the juices off my fingers. I almost cum.

My breasts bounce with every movement, he thrusts into me and I push back against him. He pulls out of me and I curse under my breath. He turns me around and places me on the countertop again, wrapping an arm around my waist as he guides his dick so that he can start fucking me hard again. I grab a fistful of his hair, tugging it harshly when he pushes into me; it makes him lightly slap my cheek before wrapping his fingers around my neck, choking me. I gasp and slap him back, grabbing his throat with my hand, too.

"I fucking hate you." I moan, his eyes staring into mine.

"Yeah.. turns me on.. love it." he moans and smirks, and that's all it takes for me to come closer to my high.

"Chris.. Chris.. I'm gonna.." I whine and he lets go of my neck, hugging me close and pressing his forehead against mine as I let go of his neck as well.

"That's it, baby.. fuck.. will you cum for me? Hm?" he says and that's closest thing to affection that we showed tonight. I nod and moan loudly, holding onto him as tight as I can. I cum, trembling, and he does the exact same thing, moaning my name over and over again.

We stay like this for God knows how long – he's still inside of me and I almost pass out in his arms, his hand rubs my back soothingly.

"You okay?" he whispers, as if it was a crime to be affectionate with each other again. We used to be together after all.

"Yes.. you?" I whisper back, the feeling of not wanting to let go of him just yet comes back and I try to push it away as fast as I can.

"I am okay, yes." he mumbles and after letting me know, he slowly pulls out of me, earning a wince from me, "sorry." he mutters.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he says and I sigh. This is wrong.

"It's best if you don't." I whisper, looking at him and I can see the vulnerability in his eyes too.

"That's true." he nods and fixes my dress, pushing his boxers and pants up right after.

"I still hate you." I mutter. I don't want him to leave.

"Yeah." he wears his shirt, he grabs my chin and leaves a sweet kiss on my lips, "me too."

And with that, he leaves.

⠀

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan-fiction #christopher sturniolo imagine #imagines #imagine #sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fandom #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #smut #fluff #angst #chris sturniolo angst #oneshot #one-shot #one shot

[knapptapp]

Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader

WC: 950

You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you

Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader

A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment

“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”

“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.

Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.

Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.

“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”

You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.

“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”

“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.

James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”

“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.

“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.

“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh fuck off.”

James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.

“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”

“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”

“Horrible color.”

“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”

“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.

“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”

“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.

“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.

He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.

Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.

“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”

“Like what?”

“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.

“Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.

“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.

“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.

You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.

“Truth.”

“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”

Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.

“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.

“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.

“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll

“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.

“Not at all.”

“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.

“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.

The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.

#james potter #james x reader #james potter x reader #james x you #james potter x y/n #mauraders #mauraders x reader #harry potter x reader

[holybibly]

i’m literally so obsessed with your work 😭

could you possibly do some sort of shiburi/toy play with san?

i would literally die if you did 😩

Bunnies, I haven't been as active lately as I'd like to be, but today I'm here and Unholy Hours are back on the air.

Hmm, I haven't tried shibari yet, but San is too attractive for me to give up the idea.

"Tied up like that, you look so divine. I can't take my eyes off you, my angel; the way the ropes leave marks on your delicate skin is driving me insane." San practically purrs into your neck before he pulls away from you. No matter how tempting you look at the moment, he is going to have to be patient. He has the whole of the night in front of him, and you are completely in his power.

The soft rope whispers and snakes across your bare skin, hot as sin, each intricate loop pressing tightly against your body, leaving exquisite marks. Through the soft lace of your blindfold, you couldn't see the pattern that San was creating today, but you could imagine each intricate knot being wrapped around your body, all of them evenly spaced and perfectly tied.

In San's eyes, you were nothing less than a work of art.

San left your hands free, but you didn't dare move them. You knew that if you started to squirm or tried to rub your throbbing clit, the slow glide of the rope over your skin would stop immediately. San didn't like it when his princess was disobedient, especially when he was making her beautiful for himself. Of all the dolls he so desperately wanted to play with, you were the most beautiful.

You could feel the rope sliding down just below your chest and then tightening around your rib cage. The slight tension of the rope around you makes your breathing harder and more labored, and heat begins to build in your lower abdomen as you feel the rope digging into your skin. It starts to get wet between the folds of your pussy and you know that soon you are going to start dripping.

The tension of the ropes is perfect; there is nothing to put you in any danger. San always knew how to treat you properly.

"Black is your color, my angel." San purred again, but this time his voice was a little more husky and sultry, like that of a big, contented cat. "But you already had that knowledge, didn't you?"

"Yes, I know that, Daddy."

"This is my angel, all mine." He circles around you like a predator on the prowl.

You smile shyly at his praise as he gently runs his fingers over your round, flushed cheek and then leans down to give you a kiss. You lift your face to meet San's soft lips halfway.

You can hardly remember how it all started. You just woke up one day with the thought that you had to have him, even if you had to hide all the delicious marks on your body that San kindly left on your skin after each 'game'. It's so stupid, such a terrible cliché, like in the most naive of romantic films: a rich, gloomy boy and an innocent nerd who was supposed to be his tutor, but instead San ended up being the one who taught you.

And if San wanted to get you tied up and exposed in the most vulgar of ways tonight, you'd obey whatever he wanted. He would be able to throw you down on the floor and fuck you into the parquet, and you would be grateful to him for it.

San pulls away from your lips, leaving you wanting more, and you lean forward as if in pursuit of his love. He just chuckles at you and holds your cheeks as he straightens up. His feline eyes are soft, but they hide a dark desire.

"You're so in need of me, angel." He coos in a loving way. "Do you want my lips, my fingers, or my cock so badly, little princess?" San muses and uses his thumb to smear some saliva over your plump lower lip. He lifts your head up again, and you give him a kiss on the thumb.

"I'll take anything you give me, Daddy." You whimper softly.

"Such a good girl." San senses how much you need to be touched, worshipped, and played with, and he is more than happy to satisfy your needs.

His warm hands begin to slide down the length of your body. San runs his fingers along the textured rope, just feeling and enjoying the sensations, gently rubbing against your skin under the tight tangle of ropes, leaving ghostly warm marks where they touch your skin.

Your skin tingles where the hot texture snakes into a pattern, and you feel another loop begin to slide across your body. You still can't make out what kind of pattern San is tying around you, but you can tell he's creating something like a corset. Each loop of rope lies directly under the previous one, with the knots neatly tied in the center of your torso. Each knot is more intricate than the one before it, and it probably frames your body in the most beautiful way possible.

There will be a brief tug on the rope before the pressure is released and the next knot is tied around you.

San's hot breath kisses the skin of your bare shoulder, and you moan softly, rubbing your thighs lightly against each other in the hope that it will ease your excitement.

"You are so beautiful, my angel." He whispers in your ear in a low voice. "I love seeing you like this—all bound up and just for me. You were made for this—to be adorned and decorated by my hands. You are my very own little masterpiece, Princess."

The praise licks over your body like fire and pools in a liquid, viscous warmth between your thighs. You have the feeling you're even wetter, if that's even possible. Your breathing is getting harder; the thought of how beautiful you look to San turns you on, and perhaps it might not last as long as you'd like, but right now you're perfect for him, and that's all that matters. These thoughts cause you to rub your thighs against each other again, desperate for any kind of friction that might help you ease the aching excitement in your cunt.

San digs his hands into the soft flesh of your thighs and spreads them apart with a growl. He doesn't want you to cum too soon; you've just started playing. His strong, slightly rough hands slide over your thick thighs and then brush lightly against the wet, slippery folds of your pussy, allowing you to enjoy some pressure where you need it so much, your hips rocking as you ride his palm. Excitement drips from your hole like a waterfall and spreads over San's palm.

You whine pitifully as his hand leaves you and San goes back to tying knots on your body, and you stay like that—horny to the max and in need of some relief.

"Shhh, angel, it's okay. You are a good little princess, and Daddy will give you anything you want. Now sit still and let me make you beautiful. Let me make you so perfect for me, my angel."

You obediently freeze in place, the world around you blurring as you melt under his praise. San's voice is so deep and calm, but you hear those hot, dark notes in it that tell you he is just as horny as you are. In his arms, you always feel like sex personified, as San does whatever he wants to your body, molding it to suit his own desires and kinks.

You feel the last loop around your waist before the remaining rope runs down your soft belly, the slightly rough texture rubbing nicely against your skin. The tightness of the rope prevents you from thinking; all thoughts fade as you let the fuzzy sensation in your stomach from being bound spread through your mind. Your fall into subspace is slow and gradual, and your breathing is deepening as if you were on the verge of sleep. San is skilled at luring you deeper and deeper into a web of lust and depravity.

San's hot hands squeeze your thigh, lightly scratching it with his nails before he wraps the rope around it. It's so hard for you to maintain any kind of coherence, so far down, especially when you hear the quiet whisper of a hoarse, purring voice: "my beautiful angel" and "sugar bunny" on your thighs, along with wet kisses and long, slow licks, which literally make your pussy literally dripping with arousal.

San pulls another length of rope through the center of your makeshift corset. You're not quite sure what to expect from him when he slips the loose end of the rope between your legs as they are spread apart. He moves around you and kneels down behind you, pressing his hot body against your back. San was wearing nothing but a pair of ripped black jeans and a leather belt with a heavy metal buckle. He preferred to feel the coolness of the room against his skin, and he refused to wear a shirt or t-shirt. It's wonderful to feel the warmth of his smooth, golden skin and the pulsing muscles that stretch and contract as he moves. His hard, massive cock presses against the softness of your plump ass, rubbing lightly against you, trying to ease the painful arousal. You can't bear to look at him with the lace blindfold that is tightly fastened over your eyes, but it makes you feel good to know you've had such an effect on him.

San stretches the rope between your beras, and you shiver a little as the rough texture of it slides between your labia. His fingers part your wet folds so he can place the rope where he wants it. San gently pulls the rope upwards, watching as the knot rubs directly against your clit, causing a burst of stars to explode from behind your closed eyelids as you finally get the stimulation that you so desperately need.

As San attaches the end of the rope to the back of your exquisitely woven corset, taking his time tightening it to tease you while keeping you safe, the intricate knot continues to rub against your swollen clit in the most delicious way.

He finally finishes tying you up and makes sure all the loose ends are securely tied to the back of the corset. San rises to his feet again, and you feel a chill run down your spine as his hot body moves away from you. He walks around you in a circle, like a graceful cat of prey, admiring the work he has done.

"Do you have any idea how bloody perfect you look, my angel? A perfect little toy for me to play with. I want you to see yourself, Princess." San helps you to your feet and guides you closer to the mirror. Then, in one swift motion, he unties the lace blindfold over your eyes, allowing you to see how beautiful you are right now.

As soon as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. You looked much more beautiful than you could have imagined, the black silk rope wrapping around your body like a smooth snake, contrasting perfectly with the soft pale tone of your skin and leaving bright scarlet marks on the most sensitive and delicate areas.

You were right—the pattern San had created on your body did indeed resemble a corset—the rope, tied in exquisite loops, ran from your chest to your waist. The tightness of the knit made your breasts look astonishingly voluptuous and lifted them up in the most seductive way possible. The rope goes down to make it look like you're wearing sexy lingerie, wrapping around your hips like a garter belt. Another piece of rope is placed between the labia of your pussy. The tight knot of the rope presses perfectly against your clitor and stimulates it with your slightest movement.

You look and feel absolutely beautiful and safe with the black silk rope tied around you and the warmth of San's large body behind you. His handsome, sculpted face is rubbing on your shoulders and neck like a contented cat, and he is purring admiringly in your ear. You were truly his perfect little plaything—the sweet plaything of a big, feline predator.

San's hands trace the intricate pattern of the rope, enjoying how it feels to wrap around your body, sometimes gently squeezing your sides.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever owned, my little angel. You look like a beautiful fallen angel, but that won't stop me from destroying you." San whispers in your ear like velvet. You turn your head to look at San and fall into the dark, magnetic trap of his eyes in an instant. Never before in your life have you seen someone who looked so much like a real cat in the form of a human.

Everything about him—from his mesmerizingly sharp eyes, high cheekbones, and chiselled jawline to his purring voice, sensual personality, and elegant movements—was the embodiment of a little predator. And you—you were his little mouse, the one he could play with whenever he felt like it.

San grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head back towards the mirror. With his other hand, he pulled on the rope between your wet folds, the tight knot rubbing against your swollen clit. You almost choked at the sudden pull of the rope as its thick texture slid over your sensitive cunt.

San moves away from you and sits down on the bed in an elegant manner, leaving you standing alone in front of the mirror. At the moment you are so confused that you don't understand at all why he has left you standing there - tied up and excited. You look over your shoulder and see San sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, stroking his thick, hard cock lazily as he watches you. He enjoys the way your body looks wrapped in his ropey silk masterpiece.

You moaned loudly, you were so excited, you want to cum right now, and San's hot, dark eyes sliding over your skin didn't make it any easier. You knew that you weren't allowed to use your hands to ease the tension between your thighs until San gave you permission to do so.

A seductive smile spreads across San's soft, plump lips as he watches you from where he sits on the bed. He slows the movement of his hand on his cock, running the pad of his thumb over the wet head. His eyes roll back in his head, and his mouth opens in a soft, sweet moan.

He nods gently in the direction of the mirror behind you, indicating that you should turn to face the mirror once more. You obediently follow his silent instructions and turn to face your reflection. You look at yourself once more and feel your pussy throbbing with desire. It only seems to increase the intensity of the stimulation as the juices flowing from you are absorbed by the rope stretched between your labia.

You feel so empty and so desperate to want San to use you, for him to sit you on his cock, to pull the ropes around your body as he fucks you deep and slow. From these thoughts, your hands begin to slide down your thighs in an unconscious way, and even this light touch makes you let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Don't you dare touch what is mine." San hisses. "If my little rope bunny wants to come, it'll be from the rope between those thick, juicy thighs or nothing at all."

You're moaning at his words, both enjoying his praise and completely disappointed that he didn't let you touch yourself. But you know San better than anyone else, and you are not going to try to awaken his dark side. You begin to squeeze your thighs together, and thick muscles tense with the effort, causing the rope to stretch tightly between the soft folds of your wet cunt. Your hips begin to rock seductively, the tight knot of rope clinging deliciously to your clit with each successive movement of your hips. Completely overwhelmed by the sensation, you throw your head back in ecstasy and let out loud and long moans. You can feel the viscosity of the moisture starting to flow out of your hole.

"Look at yourself in the mirror, angel, as you try to cum. Don't you want to see the rope sliding down your sweet little cunt while you are desperately humping it like a needy little whore?"

San is absolutely right—you do look like one. On the silver surface of the mirror, your reflection is completely depraved. Your hair is dishevelled, and your eyes are clouded with lust. Your skin is red from the tension of the ropes that are tied around your body, and it glistens with sweat. All in all, it can feel as if you've been fucked for hours on end, but San hasn't even touched you the way you'd like him to.

You begin to rub harder and harder against the rope between your legs, your face contorting in pleasure every time the knot of the rope presses against your clit, the rough texture sliding over your sensitive folds. A particularly strong movement and a tight squeeze on your thighs brings you to your climax.

"Oh God, San…" You moan loudly as you literally fall forward onto the mirror, your hands shooting up into the air as you grab hold of the massive frame to keep yourself on your feet as your whole body shakes with orgasm. Your juices flow copiously down your thighs and drip onto the floor, some being absorbed by the rope still pressed tightly against your pussy.

You barely have time to catch your breath before you are pushed forward by San's rough touch, causing you to literally press your chest against the mirror. The coldness of the reflective surface on your nipples makes them harden in an instant, making them more sensitive to any kind of touch.

"My pretty Angel..." San's voice is silky as he whispers into your ear when he presses his naked chest against your back, trapping you between the mirror and his hot body. "It was so hard for me to stop myself from cum while I was watching you enjoy yourself, but there is a better place for my load of sperm, isn't there, angel?" San emphasises his words by stimulating your clit, still throbbing from the previous orgasm, with a sharp tug on the rope between your labia. You let out a loud cry and squeezed your fingers together on the heavy frame of the mirror until your hands were white.

His tongue begins to slide slowly down the length of your neck, pressing lightly on your pulse point, which is why he can feel how fast your heart is beating at the moment. San leaves hot, wet kisses on your skin, gradually turning into dark hickeys as he continues to stimulate your pussy with a rope, sometimes pulling hard, then releasing. You feel San rubbing his big, thick dick against your buttocks, smearing pre-cum all over the tender, plump flesh, and you want to get down on your knees in front of him and lick that bittersweet wetness off his hard length. You want to hear him moan, and you want to enjoy his beautiful face as it is contorted with pleasure.

But right now you're desperate for him to fill that void inside you, and the thought of him stretching you and stuffing you with his thick cock until you can see the bulge of his length against your belly makes your pussy throb and contract, spouting fluid. The textured knot of the rope continues to press against your kitor every time San pulls on the rope, but even this delicious sensation is not enough to satisfy you. You need him to fuck you so hard. Fiercely.

You're on the verge of another orgasm when San pulls back and unties the rope from your corset. He presses you harder against the mirror with his body, biting the skin on the back of your neck, and you feel the swollen head of his dick slide between your wet folds until it is pressed against your quivering hole.

San enters you in one smooth motion, his pelvis touching your ass as his whole thick, hot length ends up inside of you. He lets out a low moan as he feels the rope garter belt around your hips, brushing against his hips with every move he makes. He loves fucking you like this—bound, helpless, completely controlled by him. San immediately picks up the pace and starts fucking you hard and fast—just the way you want him to do it.

He grabs hold of the back of your rope corset and uses it as leverage to fuck you even harder. You look at yourself in the mirror once more and lock eyes with San as he fucks you from the back. His eyes are too dark for you to understand the emotion that is hidden behind the black, gleaming irises, but you are sure that it is something deeper and more dangerous than just ordinary lust.

Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust, and your breathing becomes heavy as San's hand clasps your throat, cutting off some oxygen. This action only serves to push you even closer to your orgasm.

You can feel San's hot length pulsating inside of you as it rubs against your sensitive, smooth walls with every powerful thrust of his hips. The sound that fills the room is sickeningly wet and loud, intertwined with your screams and moans and San's deep, purring groans. It sounds like fucking porn.

The tension inside you is growing with each passing second, and the walls of your pussy are beginning to shrink as you try to hold his dick in and make it harder for him to move. Every time you squeeze his cock, bringing him closer to his own orgasm, San hisses behind you. For a second, you're completely lost in what's happening. San's hand is squeezing your throat so tightly that black spots start to dance in front of your eyes - while the head of his cock hits your G-spot every time he enters you. Tears begin to flow from your eyes, and your mouth opens slightly, either to catch your breath or to try and moan his name. You're so close to cum.

San tightens the rope loops of your corset even further and pulls you against his body before his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he pushes into you with a rough, powerful thrust. He growls like a cat as he clenches his teeth on your skin, making it bleed as he fills you with his thick, warm cum. Such an animal act of power pushes you over the edge, and you come on his cock, your eyes rolling back in and choking on your moans.

San watches your orgasmic expression through the mirror, lazily licking the bleeding wounds of his teeth on your skin. Your sensitive walls tremble with stimulation as he continues to thrust weakly into you. Some of his cum, mixed with your juices, begins to leak from your used cunt and drip onto the floor.

You remain in this position for a few more minutes as you catch your breath from the intense orgasm you have just experienced. San pulls out of you, and this causes even more of his cum to flow out of your hole. He turns you over so that you are facing him, tangles his fingers in your hair, and tilts your head back so that you are looking into his eyes.

"You're absolutely beautiful, my angel." His lips are soft and too tender as he plants a kiss on you. This is the kind of kiss that can make you fall in love, and falling in love with San is as dangerous as a voluntary refusal of oxygen. Fatal. When he leaves your lips, the look in his eyes is dark and utterly evil, and you don't know what else to call him if he's not the devil himself. "You still look too pure and sweet for me; it seems I'm going to need to work harder to get you destroyed, my princess."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #san smut #choi san smut #choi san x reader

[princessmaybank]

hi princess, I hope your break is going well <33 this is like super specific but could you do a jj x Routledge!reader with super blonde frizzy hair nd jj doesn’t know she dyes it brown until he walks in on her with a lions mane getting dye ready

No pressure at all for u to get to this, i love ur work so so much and I hope you’re going okay princess <333 thank you

thank you for the request! wasn't sure if you wanted smut in there but that's how all of my Fics end up so I'm assuming you do! I'm sorry this turned so dark if you wanted it fluffier. I have recently started Haunting Adeline 😂🤭🩷

Hair Dye

Pairings: JJ x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: Surprise Kiss, Fingering, Rough!Dark!JJ, Spanking, Panty Ripping, Hair Pulling, Choking, P in V, Creampie, Caught, etc.

Summary: Read the ask^

Author's Note: Wrote this so fast, I hope you like it, sorry it's so late!

"I just don't see the point, dad and I have brown hair, you got blonde hair, you should feel special!" John B says as I walk down the aisle searching for the color I want. "That's exactly the point JB. I feel left out. It's odd, plus people have asked us way too many times if we're dating, even though we have the same face." JB rolled his eyes in defeat as I found the shade of brown I was searching so hard for. I was so excited that I could barely wait until we got home.

"Hey JJ is coming over soon!" I hear JB yell from the kitchen as he puts away some groceries. "I expect nothing less. Your boyfriend basically lives here!" I laugh as I go into the bathroom and read the instructions. Once I think I finally have it down and the parts mixed together, my brother calls me into the kitchen. "I'm gonna start cooking dinner. Is there any way I am going to talk you out of this? Blonde hair takes a long time to come back." He says and almost on cue JJ stumbles in the front door. "And yet yours keeps coming back." I say throwing my thumb over my shoulder. He chuckled at my stupid joke and ruffled my hair, causing it to frizz up even more than it already had.

"Hey there, hot stuff." JJ said with a wink. I roll my eyes before walking to the bathroom. "He was talking to you!" I shout teasing JB about his best friend. "I definitely wasn't but okay. What's with her?" I hear him ask my brother. I put the gloves on and get a towel ready under my neck. "She's going to dye her hair. I kept trying to talk her out of it. Fuck, I forgot something at the store. I'll be back, try not to kill each other." I heard the screen door slam as John B ran out.

I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway until they reached me. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it too are you?" I say setting down the bottle of dye. "Not gonna try shit" I breathe out a sigh of relief. "You're not doing it." He demanded. "Who do you think you are?" I ask with a full attitude. "Y/N. You don't need to dye your hair." I shook my head. "I want to!" I whined. JJ went to grab the bottle of hair dye and so did I. Eventually he tore it from me and held it above his head. I wasn't able to reach it and he laughed because he thought he had won. I looked him in the eyes and took his face in my hands, planting a big kiss on him. when his lips moved back and forth with mine, I knew he'd drop his arm any second. And he did. I took the chance and stole my bottle back running to the guest bedroom and trying to make it to that bathroom. I wasn't aware JJ was right behind me until I was pinned against the bathroom door.

"Why must you be a little brat all the time?" He asked. JJ's eyes are dark now. This wasn't a game anymore. He removed the bottle from my hand, I let him take it because I was so stunned by this sudden change. "You're. Not. Dying. It." He said with a low menacing voice. "Jay-" I tried to plead, I don't know why, but he was scaring me. He was also kind of arousing me. I never had these feelings for my brother's best friend, maybe it was just how dark he felt in this moment.

He stared into my eyes before placing his lips to mine once again. It felt different this time, I felt a zing, coursing through my veins. His fingertips were now bruising my hips as he lightly humped me through our clothes. This felt unreal. I peak my eyes open for a moment. Yep. it was still JJ. He was still grabbing me with an intense force and grinding his rock hard cock into me.

My eyes shut again and I just went with it. His right hand moved to unbutton my shorts. When he found his way in, he didn't tease, he only plummeted two fingers into my soaked core. "He won't be gone long, if there's something you want from me..tell me now." He demanded again. My eyes stared into his begging to be fucked but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. "F-fuck me.." I whispered through my breath, unable to think as his fingers moved back and forth. "Speak up." His harsh tone scared me slightly but I said my phrase again, louder so he could hear.

His fingers escaped my opening, causing a whine to spill from my lips. He rolled his eyes before pulling my shorts down. I kicked them to the side before I was roughly turned around and slammed up against the door. A gasp flew out of me unexpectedly followed by another when I felt him slap my ass. I let out loud moans as he continued, taking turns with my cheeks. When they were blood red, he squeezed them in his hands. I hissed from the sensitivity he caused.

He toyed with my panties for a few seconds before he spoke. "You don't need these." He chuckled lightly before I heard a ripping sound. Shock was written all over my face as he tore the rest of the thin fabric off of my body. His fingers found my slick folds and teased them for a moment. I was about to chime in before hearing the sound of a zipper and shorts dropping to the ground. I didn't have enough time to process the noise before I felt his cock slide inside me. He let out a dark groan and quickened his pace, not letting me adjust to his size. He was going so fast and so hard. I was a moaning mess. My head started to fall but he didn't let it get too far. His hand pulled me back by my hair while his other wrapped around my throat. His fingertips squeezed tighter, not giving me much room to work air in or out. "You like that? Like my hand wrapped around your throat while you take my cock?" He asked and all I could do was give a small nod before he pulled my hair again, so now my ear was against his lips. "What would John B say if he walked in on us right now? Think he'd be pissed to see his sister with my cock jammed in her tight pussy?" He teased.

Those words were enough to cause an eruption in me. My orgasm hit me like a freight train and slid down his cock and onto his thighs. His hand left my throat and fell to my hips as I pulled in as much air as possible. He fucked me hard a few more times before his cum leaked inside of me.

The sound of the screen door opening and closing apparently wasn't enough to get JJ's dick out of me. My throat was tired, I couldn't mutter a word and JJ knew that. He rode out his high which made my eyes roll back. It was enough for me to squeeze my thighs together and cum again.

"JJ when I said anything, this is not what I meant!" JB shouted. We never even heard him walk in, but we heard the bedroom door slam. We cooled down and I went into the bathroom to inspect my neck. There were bruises where JJ had a hold of me. "What did he mean by that?" I asked. JJ was a lot brighter now. "Oh he messaged me before you two got home and told me to make you not dye your hair. He said to do anything I have to." He chuckled. "Wasn't planning this.." He said pointing to my neck. "But I'm glad it happened." He shrugged and kissed my forehead. A smile spread onto my face before I laid my head on his chest. He held me in his arms and I promised to never dye my hair.

"Good, I like pullin' on this blonde lion's mane." He giggled before I swatted at his chest.

#outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

[frxxxncx]

police - c. seungcheol

»police!¡Choi Seungcheol x fem!¡reader.

»Summary: Where Choi Seungcheol always comes home late and you can’t stand it anymore.

»Tags: smut (MDNI), oral (m. f. receiving), pet names, establish relationship, police seungcheol, innuendo (it’s for the plot), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, mention of stretch mark, scars, etc, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader.

»Words: 3.1k

note: I'm new here and I was just looking for a new place to share my writing. I hope you enjoy my work ^^

note 2: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes. Please cut me some slack 🫠

And like it was some kind of ancestral tongue, he already knew what she wanted.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

And like it was some kind of ancestral tongue, he already knew what she wanted.

🌻 

The hours passed slowly on the clock, the second hand seemed to go slower and slower as if the minutes took years.

You were so sick of your boyfriend's nightshifts, you couldn't see him anymore, you couldn't hug him, kiss him nor he could fuck you dumb like he used to do until not so long ago, you missed him at home.

You kept waiting for him laying on your bed, you just missed him so much, his touch, his scent, his kisses, how he used to caress your body with his long and thick fingers like you were the most beautiful piece of art he had ever seen. And obviously, you miss the sex. You swear you could feel his mouth kissing you, your lips, cheeks, your neck, collarbone, your boobs, your belly, and that place so private that he knew like the palm of his hand.

You couldn't help but bring Seungcheol's white t-shirt close to your nose, so you could smell his musky scent, it felt like he was on top of you. Your fingers quickly touched your lips and take the same route that your boyfriend's lips were used to do over your soft and warm skin, with delicate touches your hand was now in between your thighs, and you didn't lose any time to start giving that little bud of nerves attention, while you smelt Seungcheol's scent, just as if it was him the one touching you. 

Soft moans started to escape your mouth and by the moment your hand slid inside your panties to caress your sticky folds and stimulate more your clitoris you were doomed. The clock marked 1 a.m. and the front door opened religiously like every night. The heavy footsteps were loud in the hall, but you were so into pleasing yourself that you forgot about your partner's time of arrival. 

Seungcheol stood still in the frame of the door, paralyzed, with one foot in and the other out of your room, looking at how his girlfriend was masturbating while sniffing his white shirt, which was so up onto her stomach that he could see her panties where her hand had adventure. He slammed the door so loudly that you couldn't help but jump in your bed, getting out of your hands up, and looking immediately to the door you felt so relieved, he looked so hot in his police uniform and watching you with lust and desire in his eyes.

He smirked with those plump and cherry-colored lips that you love. "What are you doing all by yourself babe?" asked, his black curly hair moving softly as he stood in front of you, his knees touching the bed.

You nimble onto your lower lip as he was so close that you could smell his musky scent mixed with sweat. "Is just that you haven't been around so much, I missed you" You got closer to the end of the bed sitting with both your legs on each side of your boyfriend, daring to rest your head on his hip feeling your mouth water because of the proximity of your face with his cock.

"Is that so?" one of his thick and dark brows was furrowed looking down on you and you just nob with your head still resting on his hip " Mmh, I see, it seems like I spent too much time outside, but you know I'm working, right, sweetie? if you wanted my cock so bad you could have told me before '' your boyfriend's expression was blank, he looked so serious, but you knew he was just being sulky because you were masturbating alone and didn't tell him that you were needy.

You lifted your head to put your jaw on Seungcheol's abdomen gripping each side of his hips with your hands "Don't get mad, Cheolie" you said while holding tighter onto his hips and pounding. 

Your boyfriend didn't say a word and just folded his arms to look into a dead point in the room, you couldn't help but crack a little laugh and decided to get up and turn to cause Seungcheol to do the same, once he had the bed behind him, you pushed and make him fall and sat in the bed. 

Seungcheol looked at you with a furrowed eyebrow and a slight smile, when you knee in front of him, with one hand in one of his thighs so close to his pelvis that it felt like fire in his skin.    

"Mister officer, I've been such a bad girl" You squished his thighs a little hard and continued to say "As my punishment, would you like me to polish your gun?" The double meaning of the words made your boyfriend laugh. 

"Sorry, I left my gun at the station, but if you polish another thing I don't have a problem, sweetheart" A flirty smile appeared on his face and you nodded excitedly.  

You gave him a sweet kiss on the jaw and untuck his work shirt from the pants starting to unbutton slowly the fabric while you were giving soft and humid kisses across his bare chest, you listened to his soft moans and by the time you finished unbuttoning his shirt, your jaw felt the cold hardness of his buckle. 

You quickly got your hands on his belt and unbuckle it, getting even his pants unzipped in record time, finally seeing the black fabric of his boxers, one finger outlined his hard cock and when it got to the tip, you shoved your hand inside his boxers, feeling the hot and heavy cock of Seungcheol, the feeling of his hardness in your hand made your mouth water. 

You took the extension of your boyfriend's dick and slowly began to circularly caress his tip with your thumb, gently pressing the sensitive area. The sensation of his slick skin in your hand was quite exquisite,  Seungcheol's head was tilted while looking at you with tired eyes feeling so good by you jerking him off. 

Your hand started to go up and down faster and stronger, making the tip leak white liquid which was dripping down the vein side, lubing all your work making it easier and more pleasant for your boyfriend. 

A throaty moan came out of his mouth, it felt so good. 

You liked your lips, helping you with your other hand, you pulled his work pants and his underwear, and immediately he raised his hips, finally taking the last of Seungcheol's clothes off. 

His hardness raised proud, slapping against his bare and toned abdomen, his cock was perfect, with the angry red color of the tip, making you gasp. 

Your face got closer and your spit got to his dick, making it more lubed.

Your thumb was massaging the tip while the palm of your hand continued to caress the rest of his cock. You stroke a little hard his tip and felt your panties get slick because of the delicious groan that Seungcheol just left you hear, you could taste his throaty moans every time your face got close enough for him to feel your hot breath in his length. 

You both locked eyes and your boyfriend's looked glassy, the desire could not be overlooked, and you wanted it as much as he craved it.  

Your lips were so close that he could feel your thick and warm breath on his cock, you gave a loud kiss on the tip, and you heard him groan and scoff at the same time, making you smile too, your tongue gave a kitten-like lick to the slit savouring the salty taste of his precum before you go head down trying to take all of his cock in your mouth, feeling the veins of his dick and the tip meets with the back of your throat.    

Even though you have sucked him many times throughout the five years of relationship you had you just couldn't get used you the thickness and longitude of Seungchoel's dick, but that would never stop you, a scuffed moan slipped from your mouth knowing that you boyfriend would enjoy the vibration and the sound of your mouth is stuffed with his dick. 

You could feel his balls against your jaw while deep-throating your boyfriend, he didn't waste a second and started to fuck your mouth slowly with you accompanying his movements, your eyes started to water and as much as you wanted to keep watching the glorious expression of ecstasy on seungcheol's face, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, just letting him get off in your mouth.  

The cusses and moans didn't spot coming from your boyfriend', the delicious sensation of your hot and wet mouth on his cock was just another level of torture for him.

Your boy was so close to cum in your mouth -as always- but that didn't stop him from asking if he could do it "Babe" his voice sounded hoarse and a groan scape when you sucked the tip a little too hard. 

You already knew what he meant when he called you, you could feel his dick twitching in your mouth, and even though you were always happy to drink his cum, he asked every time without fail and for you that is as sweet as him buying you a big bouquet of flowers. 

You bat your lashes as a response and with a blurry vision you looked at how his jaw get tight while he let his head fall, you continued sucking him and when you felt the tip touch the back of your throat he let out such a guttural and lewd groan that had you pressing your thighs together knowing that you were sopping wet in your own arousal. 

Sungcheol grabbed your head softly but still, his grip was steady, he bucked his hips up slowly chasing his orgasm, and finally with a hoarse moan of your name he empires his load down your throat, the cum spilling a little from the sides of your mouth mixed with your spit. You gave him the brightest smile he has ever seen you put while sitting in his lap and giving him a kiss letting him taste himself on your tongue. 

His lips are sweet and addictive, his big hands grabbing your hips steady so close to his own body, you could feel his warm dick picking your belly angrily, making you anxious. 

He brushed his lips on your cheek and started to give a wet kiss on your jaw going down on your neck, his long fingers taking your shirt off, finally, he got to see you only in your panties. 

His kisses came down  to your collarbone, the place where he was very into, leaving small hickeys, some of them will be gone in some hours, while the others will be a red-purplish colour by tomorrow. 

The trip of his lips continued and now he left a kiss just above one of your nipples, making you gasp, his lips wrapped your little bud and he sucked and licked with a maddening pace. You grew impatient while trying to get more, moving your hips closer to him. 

And like it was some kind of ancestral tongue, he already knew what you wanted.

The heavy feeling of his cock over your clothed cunt made you let out a guttural moan. Seungcheol raised above you and grabbed your thighs tightly, getting up from the edge of the bed and spinning to get you in the middle of the bed, his face now cuddled in your neck smelling your sweet perfume mixed with your arousal.       

He traced a line of soft kisses along your abdomen until he got to the elastic of your underwear, his thumbs dared to tuck into the elastics and pull them down slowly while his eyes were stuck in your dripping cunt.  

Once your panties got to your ankles they went straight to the other side of the room with the blink of an eye getting lost in the darkness of the room. 

He took your ankle and raised it close to his face, now starting to give kisses until he got so close to your cunt that you could feel his hot breath. Little kitten-like licks over your clit were so sudden that a loud moan escaped your mouth without your consent. 

"Always so needy for me," Seungcheol said while sucking on the little bud of nerves.  

The sheets were crumpled in your fists and your back was so arched that you felt as if you were about to break, while Seungcheol keep licking and sucking like there was no tomorrow, his tongue fondle your clit when two of his thick and long fingers pushed inside your sopping cunt, you couldn't help but to let out a whine because of the sudden intrusion. 

One more finger join inside of you and he had you screaming in pleasure, the digits worked on your velvet gummy walls skillfully, a third finger was present while starting to finger-fuck you roughly not forgetting to rub on your clit. 

A fireball was starting to develop in your belly, making your whole body tense up, your body started to shake in anticipation, a strangled cry left your mouth when you finally hited your desired climax, your insides were sucking and throbbing against his fingers, he help you ride through your hight still fucking you, when your completely limp in your bed he takes his fingers out and his wet hand full of you ecstasy went directly to his mouth were he didn't doubt taste your arousal, like it was his first meal in weeks. 

"You are so perfect, my love" his eyes looked at you shining, so in love, he kissed you so desperately and eagerly, and your heart felt heavy, how could you not love this man?

His hands run over your body sweetly, with love and care, lining all the "imperfections" of your body, the ones he loved so much because they were part of you, all the scars, the stretch marks, everything that made you feel uneasy, it still couldn't fit in his head, how is that something like that could make you feel bad about yourself?, he liked them all, because they are part of you, the person he loves the most in the world, the one that make him feel a fucking zoo, that one that makes him wanna cry cause he just can't believe you are his.  

He gave you a bright smile and then a kiss, so soft, it was just your lips touching, like two preschoolers, only feeling the closeness and the warmth of your lips. A taciturn kiss without any kind of morbid desire. 

He looked into your eyes and thought that they were similar to the galaxy full of shining stars, crossed his mind, he was in love, hypnotised. He asked for permission with his gaze and you with a softened heart couldn't refuse. 

Seungcheol was between your legs, with your thighs on each side of his hips, running his fingers in your skin softly and finally aligning his fat-dripping tip with your leaking cunt, he slide slowly inside of you looking at how your eyes were closed shut, and started to pant, once his thick and heavy cock was completely inside of you he didn't move at all, 'cause even though the prepared you, he was to much and it felt like you were about to break. He kissed you on your cheeks, and your forehead, in your lips and nose, and you couldn't help but laugh feeling sincerely happy.  

He put his arms on each side of your head, his hips jerk up a little, hearing you moan silently.

He felt your hips move, looking for more friction and he couldn't help but chuckle because of your impatience, he grabbed your waist, and his grip was sturdy and it felt so strong that you were sure, by tomorrow his hands will be painted in a purplish colour on your skin. 

Your hips were pinned down on the bed, unable to move, while he kept  slow and short thrusts, with an almost inhuman rhythm, he was rejoicing on your moans and the warm embrace and exquisite feeling of your velvety walls on his cock. 

Seungcheol kept lugging at a slow pace for a while until he couldn't take it anymore and the movement became faster and messy, it felt almost animalistic, he was so deep inside you that you could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix exquisitely. 

Your moans were drowned in each other's mouths, kissing like there was no tomorrow, like it was the last time you were going to be together. 

You felt him hit that one spot that always had you howling in pleasure and it always impresses you how something so primitive like having sex makes you go so dumb because that was what your boyfriend was doing, fucking you dumb, but it was far more impressive how even after being together for such a long time, he's always able to make you feel even better, maybe you were just to in love or Seungcheol was just to good at fucking you. 

Your belly tightened and your boyfriend's ramming didn't stop or even slowed down, the mattress crashing with the wall more loudly every time, echoing with the obscene and wet sound in the room.  

You both could feel in the high of your climax, a caravan of fireworks exploding inside of you, and after whining loud seungcheol's name like it was a mantra you could be fucking sure that your neighbors will not forget his name again and they will not call him police boy gain.  

After a few seconds, he finally pulled out carefully and threw himself beside you trying to ease up his breath.

You both looked into each other's eyes and couldn't help but laugh, the harmonious sound filling the room. You were sweaty and tired and you smelt like sex, but you definitely were more relaxed, even though you couldn't stop laughing because the situation was pretty hilarious. 

"I think I should forget more about you coming home at 1 am," you said happily. 

"I think you should polish my gun more often" proposed Seungcheol, closing his eyes and nodding for himself, a punch in his shoulder made him move his face to look at you. 

"It's not a bad idea" he said while laughing widely and you couldn't help but laugh too. 

"Stupid officer"

#how embarrassing I had this in drafts for a month #hear me out choi seungcheol as a police #I DONT KNOW HOW TO USE TUMBLR HELP #seventeen #svt x reader #svt #ao3 #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #svt smut #svthub #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x you #scoups #scoups x reader #svt fanfic #svt seungcheol

[gender-trash]

(i am seriously late in posting about this due to The Problems BUT whatever! its here now!!)

somewhere around late november 2022, i asked my dad "hey are there any out of print technical books you'd like a reprint of for christmas?"

he linked me to a dubious black-and-white pdf of Foundations of Mechanical Accuracy. now, i wound up checking out a copy through link+, and the original edition is a really nicely put together book! the chapters are themed around various types of measurements (length, angle, etc), and they all have these cute little diagrams which the endpapers reuse in a lil repeating pattern... the image captions are done in this really lovely dark red that did not scan for SHIT... tons and tons of diagrams and illustrations and images (both color and b&w)... just, all around, a fucking nice book!! (see also @morrak's post about it here.)

and that made me feel kind of bad about the crappiness of the pdf, which is where the Problems began. i used my phone to take pictures of all the photos and color diagrams in the original and went about replacing them in the pdf, using what turned out to be the world's worst pdf editing software (i also got through replacing all the image captions in chapter 1 of 5 before my dad convinced me to give up). i did NOT finish the pdf editing before christmas 2022 (i was going somewhat off the deep end, because both my housemates were away visiting family and i had zero external structure in my life so it was just me and my cat and this stupid FUCKING pdf wrecking my sleep schedule together); i poked away at it for most of the rest of my time off and then got so goddamn sick of it i put the project away for months. "it'll be a birthday gift instead", i said optimistically (my dad's birthday is in april! it should have been enough time!)

gentle readers, i did not finish the pdf editing by april. mostly because it was such a miserable slog that i put it off until the last possible moment and then tried to make up for it with another death march.

hating both myself and the project again, i decided i was Not going to let myself typeset Anything Else before it was done, and then took a break to bind my immortal (using the renegade publishing typeset! i didn't do any typesetting!!). SURELY, i said, i can finish this in time for christmas 2023.

i'm sure you know where this is going.

in my defense i DID finish the pdf editing by christmas, despite first doing every other possible procrastination project (including a second edition of the little second century warlord book), because by this point my dad had managed to convince me to lower my standards. on the evening of the 22nd i kicked off the print job and said to myself "this will finish printing overnight and then tomorrow i can work on sewing the textblock!"

late on the 23rd, after lots of babysitting and using at least one cartridge of every color ink in my printer, the print job was finally done. (my sweet and lovely cat wants SO BADLY to hunt and stalk the printer while it is printing -- more specifically, the printed pages, i think because they tend to make noise and move and then STOP moving. for this reason, the printer is kept in the craft room, because the cat can be shut out of the craft room and thus prevented from chewing on the pages when i have an all-day book printing job going. unfortunately the craft room was also being pressed into service as a guest room at the time so 80% of the floor space was consumed by an air mattress which i had to repeatedly trip over in order to reach the printer and replace the ink cartridges.)

then i went to my parents' house on the 24th and 25th and apologized to my dad (again) for not having the book finished. but this worked out well because we finished putting together my awesome new book clamp:

(the feet still aren't done being painted so they're just dry-fit on for now but you can still clamp books in it and that's what matters!!)

i came home, sewed the textblock (french link stitch over four linen tapes, with sewn endbands made of variegated embroidery floss over linen cord, and kozo paper glued over the spine)

... and promptly realized i SHOULD HAVE PUT IN MORE OF A GUTTER because some of the text was getting reeeeeeal close to the spine. "it's fine!" i said. "i just have to make sure it lays flat!! what better time than to try out K118 binding, a technique i have literally never done before and which people on the bookbinding discord notoriously have a hard time pulling off first try! i even have tyvek tape for it!"

so it turns out that tyvek tape isn't actually tyvek with glue on it, it's tape FOR attaching pieces of tyvek TO EACH OTHER, which maybe i could have guessed if i'd done even the slightest amount of research or planning. at this point i think it was the 27th and i was still angling to get this thing done by new year's, so no time to order Actual Tyvek.

fortunately, i had ALSO received An Package in the mail with yarn for a totally unrelated knitting project... shipped in a tyvek envelope.

i peeled all the shipping labels and stickers off my tyvek envelope, cut that shit up, and glued it on there.

and THEN it was time for gluing on covers, which i thought was going to be easy because i had actually thought ahead and ordered materials (specifically acid-free museum board), except when i cracked open the box of museum board i decided i Didn't Like It because the surface was too soft and easily dented, so i glued onto it the too-thin board material i'd previously been using (so that the cardboard goes on the outside of the book). this worked super well (the cardboard stuff has a tendency to curl up from the glue moisture, but the museum board doesn't!) and i'll probably use it on other stuff in the future.

i thought the blue bookcloth i used was kind of boring but i showed my dad the available cloth options and he really liked it, so... what do you know? i cut the piece i used on the back cover very slightly too short but it wound up being covered by the leather, so you can barely tell.

and the leather... a scrap just baaaaarely big enough from my bag of leather scraps from discount fabrics... and this the first time i'd ever attempted to put leather on a book... AND YET the only complaint i have is that i didn't manage to put an even amount on the front and back. it's reasonably square and straight!! amazing!!

i am super super happy with how this project came out (especially given the number of problems i encountered) and oh my god check out how much the spine bends

AND, AS A NEW YEAR'S PRESENT, I FINALLY MANAGED TO GIVE IT TO MY DAD

#and promptly got sick after i got home from my parents' house. #which is part of why this post was so long delayed #the trashcan speaks #devil venerable also wants to exploit the memoir class for evil purposes #bookbinding

[trensu]

Some more of stasis in darkness. you have no idea how many times i've written this scene. i discarded three or four different versions of it before i came up with this one. i feel like this version worked best for the characters. or at least i hope they feel in character.

It was the ninth night.

Steve took his usual spot before the shrine. He greeted his god as he had before but decided tonight was going to be a quiet night. He didn’t have much to say so he’d simply let his faith burn bright in his silent vigil.

Hours passed, and again the strange man didn’t show up as he had been the nights prior. This time, Steve didn’t bother putting it off. He decided to do a perimeter check. As he stood, however, a cacophony of squeaks and beating wings filled the air.

A massive colony of bats burst into the clearing. They moved shockingly fast as they neared Steve and the shrine. Steve ducked his head under his arms but let the bats come. He ignored the little Robin in his head yelling about rabies. He couldn’t risk hurting one of his god’s favored creatures. 

There were so many of them, more than Steve had ever seen in his life. They flew round and round dropping altitude until they coalesced at the foot of the shrine. The din stopped as abruptly as it had started. When Steve could no longer hear a single squeak or feel wings zipping overhead, he lowered his arms. Cautiously, he lifted his head, eyes drawn immediately to the shrine to check for any damage. 

Not a single bat remained. Instead, the strange man sat, cross legged, at the statue’s feet. He wore a dark cloak comprised of deep navies, bruising purples, and an inky black. Each color slowly, gracefully shifted and melted one into another, again and again before Steve’s eyes. Flecks of light littered it in familiar formations. The clasp that secured it around the man was a bright silvery white. It was shaped exactly the same as the waning moon above. 

“Ta-da!” the man said, fluttering his hands in a showman’s gesture.

Steve took in the man's appearance. The ratty travel clothes, the cloak of constellations and its clasp…Steve leapt back in shock. Everything suddenly clicked into place very quickly to paint a very unflattering picture of himself. He whirled around. He couldn't face the shrine. 

"Shit," Steve's voice was loud with a stunned sort of panic as he remembered the events of the past week. He paced anxiously. "Shit, shit. It was y–the whole time, you were–FUCK. How did I miss–and even if you weren't you, you were still a traveler in the night and I treated you like–I'm a fucking idiot. I'm the stupidest man alive, how–"

"Probably from getting dropped on the head so much, huh?" the man asked with that same annoyingly self-satisfied voice he'd been using every night. The annoying stranger with his annoying questions and his stupid smug tone.

Mindlessly, Steve turned on his heel to glare at the man. He jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction, frustration flaring.

"Oh, you can fuck right off, man," Steve replied reflexively. "I am having a crisis!"

A split second later, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. This wasn't just a stranger talking. He backpedaled hard.

"Oh, ohhhh no, I didn't mean that, Lord, I-I wasn't thinking."

The man exploded into raucous laughter. It shook his whole body until he doubled over from the strength of it. He continued to laugh when he toppled off the side of his perch and landed with a thunk on the ground. The man sat up, wheezing and wiping at his face, mirth clearly keeping him in a choke-hold. 

"Oh, far be it for me to interrupt your crisis," the Lord of Night forced out amidst the laughter. He flapped a hand at him. "Please, continue."

The god attempted to regain composure but all that did was turn his full bellied guffaws into snorting giggles. Steve waited, his anxiety fading in the face of the god’s genuine good humor. It took another couple of minutes before the god calmed enough to pop back to his feet and climb back onto the plinth. The man made himself comfortable at the foot of his own statue as he had before.

"So how goes the crisis?" he asked mischievously.

"On hold," Steve said evenly, fighting back the start of a smile. The man said nothing but still radiated amusement. Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you really the Lord of Night?"

"The one and only!"

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yep!”

“So why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I talked to you every night! I don’t get it.” Steve paused as a thought occurred to him. “Was this a test?”

“Uh…yes? Yes.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. The god shifted in his seated position. It reminded Steve of the time Dustin shattered a jar of his most expensive hair product and tried to hide it. Dustin had squirmed guiltily under Steve’s expectant gaze until he confessed to his dastardly crime. Apparently, the method worked on gods as well.

“Okay, it started more as an attempt to get you to leave me alone,” the Lord of Night admitted. 

“Oh.” It came out blankly, which Steve was grateful for, because he felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. “You don’t want me.”

Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised. This was a classic Steve problem. He tamped down the old familiar sting of rejection. Steve knew going in that this had been a possibility. It was a god’s right to reject an offering.

“I never wanted any holy warriors,” the Lord of Night corrected. “Hence the attempt to make you leave.” 

Steve supposed that lessened the blow a little. It was an impersonal rejection. That was better, right? 

"If you didn't want me as your holy warrior you could've just said," Steve said ruefully.

“You seemed pretty determined to come back, though.”

“Only because I thought you’d want to, like, use me for something. If you’d asked me to, I would’ve stopped bothering you. I could’ve gotten someone else who could worship you better,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice light and unaffected.

"Yeah, I really don’t think you could have,” the Lord of Night said in a strained tone. 

“No, I mean it,” Steve insisted. “I told you, Robin and Dustin wanted to come along. They would make sure you’re not alone again. You would like them. They pick up on stuff faster than me. They’d be good worshipers.”

“That’s not what I meant. Your worship was, uh, it was…no, nevermind, forget that. The thing is, the more you came back the more I…” 

The Lord of Night trailed off. He tugged his dark starry cloak around him tighter. When he spoke again, he seemed to have switched tracks entirely. 

"Look, I don't know exactly how the holy warrior thing works, but you guys do quests for your gods, right?"

"Well, yeah, that's the whole point. We're your boots on the ground. We do acts in your service to spread your faith. Like priests but less boring." 

The god snorted which made Steve grin.

"Priests are so boring," the Lord of Night agreed. 

Things went quiet again. The cloak of constellations made it hard to see his god, but Steve got the impression that the Lord of Night was fidgeting. Steve remembered the conversation from a few nights before, about nervousness and not knowing what to do. Steve fell back on his social graces, his good old Harrington charm, and carefully picked something that would encourage the god to speak.

"I can't believe I didn’t see it,” Steve said, with a self-deprecating shake of his head. “Like, I know I'm not the smartest guy around but I didn't think I was that slow."

"Don't worry about it,” the god replied instantly, breaking out of his internal reverie. “That's not on you. I didn't want you to notice, so you didn't."

"Oh."

"Yep. And, it's not like I have a face to remember, so, y'know. You're good."

"I guess that does make me feel bet–wait. What do you mean you don’t have a face?” Steve squinted at the Lord of Night.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I lost my name,” the Lord of Night said with a hint of irony. “No name, no face.”

“But I saw it,” Steve insisted.

“Did you?” the Lord of Night asked, amused. He slid off the plinth and walked up to Steve until he was only three feet away. The god lowered his hood without any flourish. “What do I look like?”

Steve squinted at him studiously. The god was pale as moonlight and had hair as dark as the night itself; as for the rest of him…it was the strangest thing. Steve knew there was a pair of eyes under a brow. There was a nose above a mouth. He knew the right features were in the right places. However, he couldn’t tell if the eyes were dark or pale. He couldn’t say whether the nose was large or small. The mouth could be thin or it could be full. 

“I don’t know,” Steve relented. The Lord of Night nodded.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Is…is that the quest? To find your name?” Steve asked, dread pooling in his belly. That quest would involve a lot of reading and…he didn’t even know. Language things? General research, for sure. None of which Steve was particularly good at.

“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” the Lord of Night smirked. He didn't give Steve a chance to apologize. “But yeah, there’s something important that needs to be done. I’m not strong enough to do it myself and I’m running out of time to do it.”

“I can do it,” Steve responded. “I’ll do it for you, my Lord.”

“You don’t even know what the quest is,” the god said wistfully.

“But I know you wouldn’t ask me to do anything cruel or unfair.”

“You’re unbelievable,” the Lord of Night muttered under his breath. Steve didn’t think he was supposed to hear that so he kept quiet. In a louder voice, the god resumed. “Okay, are you sure you wanna do this? Be a holy warrior? Because you could be literally anything else. You told me you liked cooking during one of your prayer sessions. You could open up a restaurant! Restaurant owners don’t usually die in the line of duty or whatever.”

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This is what Steve trained for, what he was good at, and he wanted to put those skills to use.

“You said you needed help to do something important. I want to be the one that helps you. I want to be your warrior. I can do it, I know I can. I won’t let you down.” Steve bit his lip uncertainly as a thought struck him. "If you don't think I'm worthy–"

“It’s not about worthiness!" The god cut in. "Do you know what it would mean to be my holy warrior? The weight of the night sky, with all the stars and the moon, will be on your shoulders for as long as you walk the land. I don’t know much about holy warriors but I remember this: there’s no take-backs. You can’t just quit and go off to become something else later.”

“Yes, I know. We covered this in lectures at school. It wasn’t all swordplay," Steve said impatiently. "I did think about it once I finished training and I decided if I could find a god to pledge myself to, I didn't want to be anything else. Then I found you."

“...Okay. If you're sure, then okay,” the Lord of Night said decisively. “So what do I have to do? How do I make you mine?”

“Um, I think it’s different from god to god?” Steve stuttered, heart thumping at the god’s words. “But I guess we can do our own thing? I’m pretty sure it’s the intent that matters most.”

"I can work with that." The Lord of Night gestured downward. "Kneel, kneel. I have an idea of what to say.

"Should I close my eyes or something?" Steve asked once he’d gotten to his knees.

"Nah, this is good," Lord Night said. 

The god squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. Then, something miraculous happened. The Lord of Night spoke his name aloud.

“Steve Harrington.”

It was the first time his god ever said his name; it was stunning in a way Steve couldn’t begin to comprehend. A bolt of lightning down his spine. A roaring forge in his chest. A whirlwind in his lungs. It felt like all of that simultaneously, yet nothing like that at all. How could pitiful human speech hope to encompass the intensity of a god’s undivided attention; his god’s specific acknowledgement of a primitive life such as his? 

Tears sprang unbidden in Steve’s eyes. He became aware how lowly and frail his own body was, and how utterly insignificant his existence was in the vastness of the stars in the sky. He curled forward, hiding his face and making himself as small as he could. He could not bear his god seeing his mortal failings and imperfections. It would invite an exquisite, holy agony Steve surely wouldn’t survive. 

“Oh,” the Lord of Night breathed. “I forgot how that could feel to a human. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“No,” the word tore out of Steve’s throat without any conscious thought. “No, please. Please, my Lord.”

Steve didn’t even know what he was begging for because the singular attention of a god was agony but the thought of his god leaving him filled him with terror. He shattered, left with no purchase save his god’s words. Then there were arms around him, pulling him close, and enveloping him in constellations. Steve’s vision blurred. Great, heaving sobs overcame him as though ripped from his very soul. The Lord of Night murmured comfortingly.

“Alright, there we go,” he said softly. “I’m here, Steve. I see you in the night, every night. The stars shine for you, Steve. The moon turns its face for you. I’m with you, Steve.”

The words crashed into him with the unrelenting force of ocean waves. They swept his footing from underneath him and sent him spinning endlessly, endlessly. They lifted him upwards and sent him plummeting down until he was deep below the surface where the currents finally slowed. Surrounded by eternally burning stars, he was left weightless and suspended in an unearthly calm. The words rang in his skull with the surety and strength only a celestial being could claim.

Somewhere between an eternity and no time at all, Steve came back to himself feeling overexerted, though he hadn’t moved from where he knelt. Steve’s heart and soul had been scraped out of his chest, put between a pestle and mortar before getting unceremoniously dumped back in his weak flesh, but in a weirdly good way. His sobs subsided. His breathing came in and out slowly.

Eventually the cloak of constellations released him as well. He blinked his eyes open gradually to see his god kneeling before him at arm's length, palms resting on Steve's shoulders. Steve felt a stab of shame at having brought his god down low to a mortal's level. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve croaked. “Do you still–? Can I still be–?”

“No, yeah,” the Lord of Night said straight away. “That was on me. Not your fault at all. I’m out of practice interacting with mortals."

The god’s words lost the gravitas from before in a way that would've been jarring if it weren't such a relief. He finally broke his hold on Steve. He got to his feet, somewhat gracelessly. 

"Let’s try that again?” the Lord of Night asked.

Steve cleared his throat. He straightened up where he knelt and kept himself still. He nodded to show he was ready.

“Steve Harrington,” the god said. This time hearing his name on his god’s lips was exhilarating but at a level a human could bear. “Do you swear to spread my values in the minds and hearts of mortals, through action and word?”

“I swear.”

“Then will you, Steve Harrington, do me the honor of being my sword and shield? Will you carry my crest through all your agonies and all your joys?”

“Yes.”

For a breathless moment, their words hung in the air, resonating through the night with finality. The Lord of Night reached out and gently traced something on Steve's forehead. Steve assumed it was his god's sigil, though neither Robin or Dustin could find any images of it so he couldn't be sure. It felt like an incomplete circle with a squiggle running through it. The god stepped back to observe him when he was done.

The stillness that followed, ironically, rattled Steve’s bones with relief and joy that it was done. His god had accepted him. Then the Lord of Night shuffled his feet in an awkward, shy manner.

“Cool,” said the Lord of Night.

The heaviness and tension brought down by the gravity of their oath ruptured with that single world, and Steve could do nothing but dissolve in helpless, giddy giggles.

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #you know what #i'm actually pretty proud of how this scene worked out #there were parts of the other versions that i really really liked but they ultimately didn't fit the tone of the story #but i'm glad i ended up with this version #and that this scene is done #because the next scene is one i've been churning in my brain for ages but i couldn't start it without establishing how this one would go

[badomensbaby]

above the law. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.

word count: 4,173

a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."

The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.

"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"

"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."

"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"

A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."

"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."

"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."

"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.

"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"

A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."

"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."

"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.

Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.

And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.

Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.

"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"

Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?

The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."

"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.

After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"

"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."

"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."

"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"

Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"

A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."

"Sorry."

"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."

Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.

"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"

"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."

"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"

"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."

"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.

"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."

"But-"

"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?

"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."

"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."

Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.

"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."

"What-"

"You heard me."

"Luke, I-"

"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."

For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.

"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.

Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.

"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."

With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.

Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"

Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.

Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"

"Do it again."

"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"

"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."

Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.

The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.

You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.

And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.

Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."

"Why-"

"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."

Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.

"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."

He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."

Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"

And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.

You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."

"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."

"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."

Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."

"Luke-" you whimper quietly.

"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."

Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"

"Luke-"

"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."

"Please-"

"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."

Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."

You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.

He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."

Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.

Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."

You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."

Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.

"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.

"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."

Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.

You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"

You can't fucking speak.

Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."

Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.

"Hm?" he hums softly.

"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.

"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."

A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."

Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.

"My good fuckin' girl."

#luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings smut #5sos smut #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos x reader #smut

[madschiavelique]

HSUDHDBD!!! I love your work sm and I really enjoy reading it 😭😭 (tears of joy) they're literally works of art and honestly I hope that someday that I'll be better at writing than how I am now :' also a lil request i have in mind is a lil Miguel x Reader sort of thing like,, aftercare after a night of some rough seggs?? That or just taking care of said Reader when they're in any sort of pain (ex; period cramps, dealing with trauma, etc)

OMG THANK U SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAA AND YES THIS YES

i chose to write on miguel taking care of reader when they're on their periods (because i am, endometriosis is hitting hard af DFQZRESG)

summary : Miguel takes care of you when you're on your periods

content warnings : mentions of menstrual blood (reader is on their periods), other than that it's absolute fluff - so sweet you'll get cavities after reading this, afab reader, no use of Y/N word count : 2k

tag list : @fandom-ash

status of my requests according to the date of this post : CLOSED (asks are open though)

Fuck.

You'd woken up in the middle of the night with a terrible tummy ache, a hot, heavy pain felt in your lower abdomen accompanied by an intense hot flush that took over your whole body unpleasantly. You had a good suspicion of what it was, so you got up, trying not to make too much noise, although every movement seemed to give you incredible pain, making you whimper.

Miguel groaned in his sleep as you stood up, bent over as your belly and the low of your back ached excruciatingly. You made your way to the bathroom, which fortunately wasn't too far from your bedroom, each step making you feel as if your thighs were about to separate from your pelvis.

You pulled down your panties, a dark stain soaking the fabric. You sat down, taking the opportunity to really go to the bathroom, and when you wiped, the vibrant carmine color covered the paper.

Fuck. Shit. Son of a bitch.

You had your period, and it was never pleasant. You knew they'd be coming soon, it had been at least three days if not more since you'd started to feel cramps in your lower abdomen and pain in your breasts, the only surprise you had left was when they'd arrive.

And they'd chosen the delightful moment of the middle of the night to wake you up, how thoughtful of them, how generous. You sighed, your panties were full of blood, you had to get yourself another pair, which meant coming back into the room and trying not to make too much noise for Miguel.

You stood up, putting your knickers in the laundry, unable to find the strength to clean them now. You opened Miguel's cabinet, but found no painkillers... You'd forgotten to stock up on painkillers for your period. An umpteenth sigh of desolation took hold of you as you came to pinch the bridge of your nose.

You closed the cabinet door and turned to see Miguel, which surprised you a little. His eyebrows were furrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhaled.

"Something's wrong?"

It had only been two weeks since you'd moved into Miguel's quarters, and before that you'd avoided seeing him when that time of the month came around for you. The smell of your body and what it was expelling must have alerted him to your condition. You inhaled, rubbing your eyes as your belly suddenly clenched and you had to sit back down on the toilet.

Miguel immediately knelt down in front of you as the cramps made you bend double until your forehead touched your knees, completely distraught by your condition.

"Nena, what's going on?" he asked, stroking your back with one hand and your leg with the other. "Please tell me."

You breathed in, trying to articulate as the pain brought you to tears.

"I'm on my periods," you managed to say through clenched teeth.

He said nothing, and you wiped your eyes as you looked down at your knees.

"I'm so sorry I woke you up," you said, trembling as you tried to breathe properly, the wave of cramp easing slightly.

"Hey," he says, taking your chin between his fingers, bringing your eyes to his worried ones, "don't apologize. Just tell me what you need me to do right now."

You looked up at him, eyes moist.

"I need another pair of panties, a pad... I put some here in the closet," you said, pointing to said closet in the room, "and a painkiller for now." you said softly.

Miguel nodded, kissing you gently before standing up.

"Don't move," he said before leaving the room.

It was probably the easiest order you'd ever get from him, if not the nicest. So you just sat there, completely folded in on yourself, waiting.

Miguel returned with one of your panties in hand, opened the cupboard to grab the packet of sanitary pads you'd placed there, and came to kneel before you again, handing you both items.

You took the undies and pulled them down to your ankles, mechanically opening your sanitary towel package and placing it over your underwear. You then stood up in front of him, pulling the panties up over you, sitting back down.

He watched you, his tongue creating a tent in his cheek.

"For the painkiller, I don't have any pills. I only have one that's... peculiar." he told you as he stroked your calf gently.

"Which is?" you asked softly, feeling a little safer from creating stains now that you were carrying something against you.

He said nothing, simply opening his mouth and pointing to his slightly extended canine.

You knew that Miguel had an antidote in the venom he secreted that acted as both a painkiller and a sedative. The latter, come to think of it, would not only allow you to sleep peacefully, but also to feel less pain.

"Bite me, Miguel," you asked, almost desperate for him to bring you any sense of relief.

He inhaled, nodding.

"Open your legs, the closer to the pain the bite the faster the venom will act."

You bit the inside of your cheek, this will be unexpectedly sexy, you thought.

So you spread your legs, moving closer to the edge of the toilet. His warm hand came to rest on your thigh, Miguel coming as close as possible to the inside of it as your hand caressed his hair.

You felt his hot breath on your skin before he bit down. The abrupt sensation of his canines in your skin made you tighten your grip on his hair, but he didn't flinch. He let the venom spread, then retracted his teeth as he ran a gentle stroke of his tongue over both slits, finishing the act with a gentle kiss over them.

"Good," he said simply as he straightened up.

He brought one hand behind your back, the other coming to rest behind your knees, and raising you against him princess style. You brought your arms around his neck, as he led you out of the bathroom.

"I can walk, you know that right?" you smile against him.

"In this state? I won't let you move," he replied.

He led you into your bedroom, laying you gently on the bed. He came to lie behind you, pulling the comforter up over you both as he curled up against you, becoming the big spoon. He placed his hand on your lower belly, the warmth of the latter soothing a little the fire dwelling there.

The venom was also starting to take effect, making you want to sleep again and greatly easing your pain. He kissed the back of your neck and you drifted off to sleep.

You felt so soothed. You'd been dreading a situation like this, but in the end Miguel had reacted perfectly, and you fell asleep much more relaxed.

When you woke up, the antidote was gradually fading from your blood. You were wrapped up in your comforters so snugly that you didn't want to move, and you weren't going to.

You opened your eyes, and on your bedside table were four different boxes of medicine, with a glass of water beside them. Miguel must have got some painkillers for you, and probably not knowing exactly which brand you preferred, he'd taken several.

You smiled, straightening up slightly to sit down and pick up the box you were most familiar with to take a pill and drink it immediately.

"Lyla?" you asked, putting the glass back down.

"Well hello," the little orange pixel cloud materialized before your eyes.

"Is Miguel away?" you asked.

"In truth, he's in the kitchen right now, preparing..." she checked her data, and quoted the name of your favorite dish.

You made a little pout mixed with a smile, Miguel was really taking care of you till the last bits of himself.

You straightened up, placing your foot on the floor as you grimaced. You had to go and change your pad, and although the deal was unpleasant, you got up to go to the bathroom. But first, you made a detour to the kitchen to at least say hello to Miguel.

You arrived in the kitchen, the smell of your dish's ingredients wafting through the air.

"Buenos dias, bebé", you smiled as you entered the kitchen, leaning against the wall.

He turned immediately, surprised not only by your little use of Spanish, but especially by the fact that you were standing. He approached you, smiling gently as he kissed your forehead.

"I told you that I wouldn't let you move," he said, coming over to stroke your hair.

"I just came to tell you good morning," you assured him as you brought your hand to his waist.

He pretended to think, "not a sufficient excuse to move."

"I have to change my pad ?" you offered as another explanation.

"Still not a valid excuse, nena." he smiled before taking you by the waist and raising you against him, his hands resting on your back and thighs as he led you to the bathroom.

You sighed, but couldn't help appreciating the attention he was giving you. He set you down in the bathroom, letting you change your pad, then taking you back into his arms as he led you back into the bedroom.

He laid you gently on the bed.

"Don't move," he said again, "really."

"I won't, I promise." you said, putting your hand on your heart as you covered yourself with the comforter.

He smiled softly, kissing you before standing up and leaving the room. "Lyla," you called again, the cloud appearing once more, "report on Miguel's occupations since waking up." "As good as done, Chief," she smiled as she brought up a small timetable showing each of his activities. "Miguel woke up this morning at eight o'clock, his first demand being to give him as much documentation on menstruation as possible. After reading a number of articles, he asked me questions about what to do for a loved one at a time like this. Subsequently, Miguel went to the various commercial areas of the society where he made several purchases including: a hot water bottle, a whole bag of snacks, a variety of ingredients for lunch, a dozen packets of sanitary pads, and four tablets of different pills to treat the symptoms." You glanced at your bedside table, "Finally, he filed for leave this week. Since his return, he has begun preparing the dish. Shortly afterwards, you woke up."

Your heart clenched with emotion. Miguel had done all this? For your sake? You could feel the tears welling up, the sensitivity brought on by the periods not helping your situation.

Miguel came back into the room, hot water bottle in hand, but noticing your shining eyes and trembling chin, he rushed over to you.

"Is everything okay ? Why are you crying, nena?"

You're the why, you thought, in the most adorable and safe possible way you are the one making me cry.

You threw yourself at him, taking him in your arms and holding him close as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

"I love you," you whispered against him.

You felt him relax under this revelation, coming to wrap his arms around your back as he pulled you into his embrace.

"I love you too, nena." he whispered as he came to cup your wet cheeks, kissing your lips softly there.

You looked up at him, your eyes tender with love.

"I brought you a hot water bottle," he smiled, showing it to you.

You gave a little laugh, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

"Thanks," you grinned as you took it in your hands, its comforting warmth perfect for your body's torment.

"Would you like to watch something? Just tell me what you'd like and I'll take care of it."

You smiled wider, sighing lovingly as you offered to watch one of your comfort movies. He nodded, coming to kiss you again.

These would probably be the best periods you'd ever had, and it was all thanks to him.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader

[justaweasel]

Obey me characters but I'm projecting AGAIN

Satan, on baaad days, is hyper aware of himself. Like if he sits somewhere for five minutes, he'll feel his butt get really itchy. This, obviously, has caused some problems, so sometimes the brothers will see Satan angrily pacing and reading. Asmo has tried to curb the problem by buying Satan special underwear, but nothing works.

"Satan, why are you pacing like that? Why don't you sit down?"

"I want to!"

"And why aren't you?"

"Because my butt will get itchy again, you don't understand"

The brothers understand more than they used to, but it's still weird to see Satan angrily pacing because his ass got too itchy for him to sit.

Despite being a demon, Belphie gets really paranoid if he's in a dark space alone. Like really paranoid, due to his sleeping habits this doesn't get to him often but on the chance that it does, it's bad. Like him full on seeing things and thinking things are after him. One time this got so bad he called Beel to come get him. Beel, and on occasion Lucifer, make rounds to make sure Belphie is in a bed or in the vicinity of someone else so his paranoia doesn't get bad. (His time in the attic was bad because of this, Lucifer tried to visit as much as possible, but still was very little.)

Asmo and Satan will have little pillow fights to get their rage out. It's mostly Satan attacking and clawing pillows Asmo needs to toss out. Mammon and Levi have been seen to join too but are put off by Satan's absolute destruction of a pillow. Sometimes Asmo will laugh so hard his arms get weak and he'll let go of a pillow (someone please tell me if that happens to them too), giving Satan the perfect time to attack.

Lucifer has the bad habit of forgetting cups everywhere. If Lucifer has been somewhere, most likely there's a cup left there. His brothers egg on him for this and he always gets a little embarrassed. (This one is based off of my sister ;P she always denies doing it though)

Mammon has stored money in plushies before so if MC hugs a plushie and it makes a crunchy noise he'll be like "There it is!" And he'll reward you for finding it by spending all the money found inside on you.

Mammon, Diavolo, and strangely Beel are hellishly good at Monopoly. Barbatos gets far with his luck and Satan's drive to win against Lucifer also gets him far. Mammon always tries to get the railroads while Diavolo aims for the ones people land on the most and bulks it up. One time Diavolo and Mammon had set up a death trap with the light blue and pink spaces since Diavolo had bought both color spaces and Mammon had all railroads, so even if you missed Diavolo's spaces, there was still the chance you'd have to pay 200 anyway.

Solomon will also make deals constantly that will either put him or the other person in massive debt later down the line. Most of the times Mammon has lost has been due to Solomon fucking him up.

Asmo is really into bracelet making. Shmiles

Levi has a track record of losing his earbuds so that's why he always wears his headphones.

Wowoowowowoowow okay bye

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me swd #asmodeus obey me #lucifer obey me #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #leviathan obey me #mammon obey me #obey me asmodeus

[divinehedons]

lost and found

pairing: soft dom!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4k

summary: your arrangement with joel miller is built on mutual trust. what happens when, in the throes of hedonism, he himself breaks that trust?

warnings: this is a dark, EXPLICIT fic, minors do not interact! no outbreak au, so many unrequited feelings, angsty angst angst angst, explicit p-in-v sex, dubious consent, use of a safeword, teeth-rotting aftercare and fluff, brief use of a sex toy, bath sex, brief depiction of make-up sex, somewhat (definitely) blasphemous and makes a mocking of religion (i'm not sorry :>>>>)

note: thank you very dearly for reading! please let me know what you think and what you see next; asks are very much welcome, reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

“See, this is why you need me, sweet girl. Because otherwise, who’s goin’ to make you feel this good?”

It was those words that follow you every day since you’ve begun such a tumultuous connection with the Texan contractor. Those words that stayed with you when you woke up from his tongue between your legs after the first night you fucked together. The words that stayed together when you made an arrangement. When you finally submitted to him.

You meet him in a shared apartment, in darkness, as well-put as could be from a day of work, kneeling with your wrists presented before you. By the end of the night, moments before he drops you off, he looks over your smeared lipstick, your neck littered with blood-red hickeys of his doing, wrists red. He'd look you over, then he'd smirk, waiting for you to turn back and wave goodbye. Only then will he have the last word. "See you next week, darlin'."

–

You met him at trivia night, glasses on, glass of whisky in hand, mere purveyor to the chaos you were causing. You, who he noticed to be naturally shy, sipping away at some colorful drink the weeks before, standing actively on your toes as you excitedly whisper the answer to a question. He saw, too, how happy you got, jumping on your feet when your little band of three pulls ahead in the game. But what caught his attention was how good you are. How you immediately sat down when your team asks you to, how you willingly go for drinks at the bar, not five feet from where he sat, emanating warmth from excitement.

You were so goddamn willing, he had to adjust himself once or twice, pictures of your submission burnt into the crevices of his brain. So when he had the chance, he had to take it.

“How did’ya know so much about the sixties, sugar?” he asked as you squeezed into the seat beside him, barely managing to steal it from the crowded bar. When you looked at him, he swore he almost saw your eyes gloss over from shyness. You just had to be adorable.

 “Oh! Well… I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.” You look down, fiddling with your drink before chuckling. “I didn’t know we were getting so much attention.” He swore he almost felt his cock twitch in his pants. Already, you were being so good, he physically had to swallow down the images of you happily bent over his desk with the rest of his whisky, throat burning be damned.

He realized, quite easily, that if he wanted you, he was going to have to be creative about it. And if he really wanted you, he had to put the effort in showing you he could be trusted; that he’ll take care of you. So he smiles, a calm smirk accompanying his salt-and-pepper beard, the warm crinkles in his eyes as he stills himself. He takes a deep breath, and it becomes so easy.

The night ends with you pressed against the door of your apartment, panties pushed to the side as he breathes whiskey into your face while you chuckle nervously. “D’you want it, sugar? C’mon, I need some words…” He almost wished he could take a photo of your face the moment he spears you open with his aching cock, cunt already fucked out by his fingers during the feverish truck drive where you almost get him lost from hazy directions.

He teaches you your safe words that night. An analogy of stoplights– halting reds, questioning yellows, and bright green gos.

He constantly checks in, and all you tell him is to go, go, go.

–

He likes it when you call him sir, a remnant of his Southern manners. Your cheeks warm up whenever you say it. He noticed when he had begun to cup your face, asking you to tell him what you wanted.

Just you, sir. All you, please…

He’s so indulgent about it, so eager to give you the pleasure you so desperately wanted without saying anything. But sometimes, that primal urge to own you manifests itself, as well. He particularly enjoyed the act of overstimulation. Just the sight of you, cockdumb and broken, limbs trembling from the way he manipulated the pleasure from your body… how could he ever resist? It’s why he was so willing to split an apartment with you; one meant for your excursions and hedonistic urges; the house of desire itself with a king-sized bed and a hot tub to defile.

You were chaos and innocence all in one, sweet like honey and sudden like the weather. Incomprehensible, unique you. Simply put, he enjoyed you. And the fact that you belonged to him will never stop getting him hard just from the mere thought of it. He started thinking he finally understood what it meant to be enthralled by someone. When you open your mouth wide, tongue extended and waiting for any shred of him to swallow, when you lay on his chest post-coitus with the sated nature of a feral cat, when he sees your perfect lipstick, waiting to be ruined by kisses.

Of course he’s insatiable. He will always keep wanting more. Perhaps it was that insatiability that led to that storming night.

–

He should’ve noticed when he opened the door and you were looking out of the window, eerily quiet, with the weight of the world on your shoulders. He drops the keys on the dining table, crossing his way to you, hands wrapping around your waist as he kisses your exposed shoulder teasingly. 

“Let me take your mind off of it, darlin’,” he whispers, and you feign a giggle at the way his beard prickles your skin. “Had a tough day, didn’t ya?” You look to him as if you were about to confess something, say something and break your usual submissive silence. But you catch his eye and you melt further into his touch instead as you sigh softly.

“Just missed you a little too much, sir…”

It satisfies him. It feeds his ego. But just in case… “Give me a colour, pretty baby. S’alright…”

You gulp, feeling your fingers turn cold as you process your thoughts. With a sigh, you press a kiss to his jaw.

“Green, sir.”

The word barely leaves your lips before he’s kissing you, swallowing down your soft whimpers as his strong arms take you, carrying you to the bedroom with renewed urge and desire. Settling you down on fresh sheets, he peers over your pretty little sundress, your perfect little face, chuckling at the shyness washing over you in the low lamplight. He kisses you again, insatiable hands tearing open your dress as your breath hitches, He does not stop, pressing wanton kisses down your collarbone, your breast, your stomach, spreading your legs so he can settle right between them.

“Y’wanna tell me why you weren’t answering my calls, darlin’?”

You try not imagine the panic you must have caused him for that very reason. The fact that you left him a message at three in the afternoon, I need to see you, sir. Only to have your phone switched off. There is probably a barrage of messages and missed calls. But seeing you here, he finally seems to settle. He seems to ignore your creased forehead, your shaky breaths.

“My phone died… I- I’m sorry…” He shushes you, kissing you again and running his thumb over your painted lips with a smile. “I just missed you, sir.”

You notice his eyes darkening, hands traveling down the expanse of your stomach, embracing and caressing each curve before his right hand completely cups your wanton cunt, willing and warm to the touch. “I think I can do somethin’ about that.” He pushes your underwear aside, two fingers delving into the soft, sticky warmth of your desire, spreading you open just for him. He periodically asks for your status, a colour to confirm your consent. You see it as a way of him asking if he could do the things he was already doing.

Green for the fingers already spreading you open. Green to take off the dress he had already torn off. Green to mark up the neck that already bore the wetness of his saliva.

“How was trivia night last night, sugar? I couldn’t get out of work soon enough to catch you there…” You manage a soft chuckle, now embracing him with a breathy kiss. “Although, I believe I heard from Clark that you did well enough, no?”

Your soft giggles melt against the skin of his jaw, your shaky breaths stuttering as you hear the clink of his belt buckle and the shuffling of his jeans. “Good old nineties, sir,” you murmur. “Your playlist was sufficient enough of a reviewer to carry me through.” It’s his turn to chuckle, cupping your face and peering down at you as he affectionately pinches the apple of your cheek with a sigh.

“One more ‘old man’ quip out of you and you’ll be askin’ for a punishment, li’l girl.”

You manage a soft smile. You like it when he cares. You like him like this. But just as easily as it came, the softness soon disappears as he returns to working the clothes off of your body, looking over the way your skin is void of the markings he left the last time he had you. You try to comprehend the secrets between his furrowed brow, the mutterings you try to hear in the semi-darkness. He always had a way of keeping that same professional barrier between the two of you, a barrier that you never know where it truly stood. A barrier of multiple dimensions. A barrier that was the sole purpose why you never confessed you stopped dating ever since he came into your life.

You remember the time you almost did. You had called him one evening, dressed up in the same apartment, bottle of wine chilled, rose petals all over the sheets. You told him you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect the ease that came with his rebuttal. Can’t tonight, darlin’, I have a lady friend keepin’ me company. How ‘bout Friday? You pretend, as you find yourself doing more and more often. You tell him to have a nice evening. You drink an entire bottle of wine by yourself. You dispose of the rose petals and ensure you left no traces by morning.

Looking at him now, he still remains cool, professional, boundaries locked and loaded between your bodies even when he presses the bulbous tip of a vibrator directly over where you need him most, firing it up the moment you said green. He told you once he loved the way you squealed for him, that it makes his chest bubble with incomprehensible glee knowing he could drive such noises from you, that shy little vixen that knelt for him when he said the word and opened her mouth wide. Maybe that’s why he always enjoyed pushing you to your limits.

Maybe that’s what he wanted to do now.

And you had to admit, you were willing to let him try.

The vibration jostles through your flesh, shaking awake your tendons. The initial shock sent your legs flailing, spreading, and eventually welcoming the affection. “That’s it… let me in, baby…”

Your cries emanate as the shock of the first orgasm shakes through your completely naked body, brushing against the course fabric of his jeans, his small snicker leaving him before he could stop it. “‘Course you’re so easy, pretty lady.” You feel your cheeks warm up at his words, looking into his eyes as he raises a brow, as if waiting for you to give him his dues.

It’s when you return to yourself, blinking away the haze in your head as you tilt your head back. “Thank you, sir… oh, oh– thank you!” When you look back, you see him through the mist in your vision, see that slow, cocky smirk encompassing his features. He likes this. He likes the way you’re absolutely fucked out like this.

The buzzing stops, and you blink awake shakily up at him. He leans down to kiss you gently, sighing as you come down from your orgasmic bliss. “How are we feelin’, baby doll?”

You grin up at him. Green, green, green.

He looks down at you, with that shit-eating grin on your face that you always have when you’re brimming with excitement and ready to burst. He tries to read your eyes just as you grow shy, turning over to embrace the pillow you lay on. What should he do when the prettiest girl in the world says “green” so voraciously?

There was only one answer. He can only go, go, go.

–

Joel Miller rarely calls anything heaven. He rarely finds anything that is so divine that he can surrender so easily in worship. And if he does, it’s even rarer that he is driven by anything so much as to take divinity into his own hands. But with you… he swore he finally saw the face of God. And it was dangerous. It was dangerous because it had awakened an arcane starvation that almost harkens back to his own primordial longings.

You tell him green, but if he was capable of confession, if he was more vulnerable to you… he’d confess that he’d gone blind, his senses dulled and only drawn to one thing and one thing only: and it was to take and take from you.

That was why he fucks you wide open with his cock, your walls trembling with the first sign of overstimulation. He sees the first sign of your hesitation and he barely stops himself to look you in the eye to say your status. You barely manage to tell him green, with a tone of hesitation, and he immediately pummels his hardness into your aching cunt, embracing you in his tense arms, growling into your ear as you feel his lips sucking a brand new hickey at the very crook of your neck. 

If he was confessing, he would say all he saw was the red of his blood pumping through his brain. It is only a few seconds later that he finally hears that shy, trembling voice of yours, echoing like a hysterical cry that tears through his defences. It is the words you had never uttered in these moments before now.

“Red, red, red!”

Immediately, Joel flies apart from you like shrapnel, blinking his eyes open just in time to see your grief-stricken face, splotchy from tears as you curl up in the upper middle of the large bed. From here, he finally sees the aftermath of his mindless fucking. His fingertips marking your skin, lovebite blood red and raging just as you peer up at him with eyes lit up with an emotion he had never seen before. You had never stared at him with that much fear before.

He attempts to reach for you, only to be frozen in his tracks the moment you flinched further upwards against the mattress. His blood runs cold when he hears your words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir–”

Had he been that absolutely careless over you— precious, darling you that entrusted herself so fully to him? Had he been that selfish, so enthralled by the callings of his own flesh? This is the price he had to pay for tasting divinity— he just had to ruin you for it. He slowly recedes, heart thumping in his chest as he tucks himself back into his pants, keeping his hands visible for you, your watchful eyes never blinking away from you.

“It’s alright, darlin’. It’s alright. We’ve stopped.” Gently, he helps, carefully handing you a dressing robe to regain some form of second skin. He ascertains that his bare hands does not brush against you, not unless you ask him to. Not unless you wanted it. He did not deserve such a privilege, not after what he’s done. Not after how he broke your trust.

He shakes away the thoughts and self-doubt from the recesses of his brain. You do not need his remorse. What you needed was to be taken care of. What you needed was him to fulfill the role he had promised you from the very start of your… partnership. Whatever it was you had. The minutes pass in the silence. The apartment is silent, except for your shaky breaths as he waits for you to calm down.

“Sugar…” your bright doe eyes look to him, reddened slightly by tears before softening, your hands slowly moving to reach for him. He stops himself. “What do you want me to do, doll?”

You finally find the voice to speak again. “Just hold me… please.” Joel gently settles by your side, embracing you as you hide your face into his bare chest. With how close you press yourself to him, you feel the pounding of his chest. You feel your skin prickle, looking up into his eyes in soft, comfortable silence. “It’s like you couldn’t see me anymore when… when…”

He hears your breath hitch and he gently shushes you, carefully pressing kisses to the crown of your head. “Why did you apologize, sugar?”

It's difficult to comprehend feelings in an agreement that is supposedly devoid of them. It's difficult to reflect when you think you know every possibility when you say the truth and nothing but the truth. But you know, too, that you cannot solve the breaking of one’s trust, yours in this case, with the breaking of others’ trust. So you swallow, gather your thoughts.

“You’ve… you always made it feel like it’s my… my privilege to feel so good and… and…” you sniffle, burying your face against him once more as you sigh. “I feel guilty for… for having to—asking to—stop.” You feel his breath still, and you tug him closer out of guilt. It’s as if the motion gently shakes him awake and he embraces you, pressing careful kisses where he was able to.

“That was never my intention, darlin’...” He gently maneuvers you, just enough so you had to look into his eyes— those soft, warm eyes that looked at you the night you met in the bar. “I should be sorry, and I am. God, doll… we built this… us… we built it on the idea that we entrust each other with our… vulnerabilities, and that those vulnerabilities aren’t exploited.” He cups your face, the way he always does, but his touch his careful, the way one grasps precious. “You trusted me, sugar, and I’ve been reckless with my pretty girl. I’m so sorry.”

He barely finishes the last word before you’re kissing him, arms wrapping around him in comfortable silence as he cradles you, lets you indulge until you are the first to pull away. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?” he whispers, the prickle of his beard against your jaw enough to make you giggle. “How does a bath sound?” You manage a small nod, winding down from the events of the evening as he cradles you, gently bringing you to the bathroom and seating you on the nearest counter as he leans over to prepare the warm bath, head turned away from you with a sigh.

The confession lays heavy on your lips. The confession that you’re falling for him, eyes closed, no turning back. You’re in love with him, but you think in telling him, you risk losing this… having him in the soft silences where you can be vulnerable for him and only for him. You tell him, and you picture the nights alone, guarding yourself and knowing happiness shall not exist anymore for you. Not in this lifetime.

“Do you want me to give you some privacy?”

You look to him in silence before taking a deep breath, shaking your head before biting your lip. “Stay with me,” you whisper, looking down at your feet as he settles before you. “Please don’t go too far from me.”

It’s how the two of you end up, with you on his lap, the warm water encompassing the two of you as  gently scrubs through your back with slow, careful circles. “Promise me something,” he says, breaking the silence as he carefully pulls you closer to him. “Never ever think you cannot say no to me ever again.” Your head rears to look into his eyes and he couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing your cheek lovingly. “I’d rather have your scorn than seein’ you afraid of me, darlin’.”

You promise him. As if you would deprive him of anything ever again. As if you could bear the way you saw his heart break from your reaction earlier that evening. As if you could bear the sight of him pulling away from you ever again. If it meant keeping him this close to you for some time more—be it a day, another evening, another month, another year—you’d take everything you can.

The both of you make up shortly thereafter. Joel is half-surprised to see you crawling on top of him, facing him as you ask him. He groans at the feel of your nails digging down into the back of his neck as you fuck yourself on him. He lets you take what you want. As if he can deprive you of anything, be it affection or debauchery. He takes you by your word when you ask him to take you to bed— and he makes love to you in the darkness.

You are his God and all the Saints in the body of one mortal. Daisies and thunderstorms and metamorphoses combined. He looks for you in the other people he meets. But they do not have your shyness, your bright smile, nor the complete surrender you offer so willingly to him. He wonders, sometimes, in the darkness, if he will ever find it within himself to cross the boundaries he himself had built. So he tells you he loves you in other ways. When he cradles your face, when he wipes you clean post-coitus, showering your skin with kisses. When he embraces you in his arms when you drift to sleep with a wide, warm smile of peace etched on your face. He whispers it, sometimes, when he kisses your forehead before he leaves, dressed in his clothes from last night.

He’ll rather have you like this. If, by some twist of fate, he loses the presence of your divinity, then he shall forever return to this moment— you on your hands and knees with your back arching into his touch, your warm breath, your trembling breast. Perhaps an eternity, locked together this way, is the closest to heaven he will ever come across. And should he face damnation, flailed and torn apart by hail at the second circle of hell, he shall regret nothing. Should he be offered salvation in exchange of forgetting you, he shall spit at the face of God with a smile. He’d tell Him he’ll do it all over again.

---

A/N: this is the part where i say sorry for letting my current reads and whatnot influence what i'm writing. but this is also your sign to read the divine comedy if you want to :'DDD thank you so so so much for reading!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dom!joel miller #dom!joel miller x reader

[monsterfuxkermarya]

Miķelis

Now Playing: Alkaline by Sleep Token

Length: 4,558 words, ~20-25 minute read

Summary: It'd be such a shame if I just left my terrace window open on a hot night to let the breeze in and some big, half human-half tentacle monster comes in through the window, clearly aroused, and sees my wet and loose hole and breeds me in my sleep. Noooo, I'd hate for that to happen!

kinda like doc ock but its natural//part of his body and he's more alien-like 😊

CW: vaginal fingering, masturbation, somnophilia, somno breeding, breeding, tentacle monster/monster sex, cervix penetration, oviposition, rapid pregnancy?, uhhhh idk I’m doing this in order of appearance lolz, egg laying I guess? Idk what you'd call it. also lactation? But it's not really milk, but I guess it's still lactation.

It'd be such a shame if I just left my terrace window open on a hot night to let the breeze in and some big, half human-half tentacle monster comes in through the window, clearly aroused, and sees my wet and loose hole and breeds me in my sleep. Noooo, I'd hate for that to happen!

It's really hot out here in the woodlands of Texas, and my little cottage on the edge of the woods just can't keep up and everything is hot. I don't live particularly close to anyone, so I can go around all day in scantily short dresses or just my lingerie and not worry about anyone seeing me. Some days I just put a little skirt on and skip the panties, just a skirt and a light top you can see my nipples through.

But anyway, it's that time of the summer where it's not even cold at night - you're lucky if it gets down to 80 now. So I go to bed with most of my windows open, hoping it'll bring more air through.

But I don't just go to bed that night, no no no. It was a hot day, I had a few stressful work calls, I need to relax. I've had a few glasses of wine with my dinner, and I have a little left to sip on, so I pull out a small bottle of lube and my rabbit vibrator, my favorite at the moment.

I sigh out a little in relief. I've needed this for far too long at this point. I lube up my fingers and push two in at first. It feels almost foreign with how long it's been since I've been able to give my pussy a little love.

I add a third finger and start trying to loosely separate them, stretching myself open slowly. The slight burn from being out of practice makes this all the more worth it.

I'm getting a little wetter at the provocation, I can't help but smile at the wetness growing between my legs. I think I can use my rabbit now.

I grab my little rabbit and get it in position, slowly thrusting it into myself for the first time in probably a month. I moan out for a man that isn’t there.

I turn up the speed on my vibrator, letting it sit in me for a second, I’m too sensitive to thrust it in yet. Even then, it still feels so good. I needed this. I move it around a little, gasping at the pleasure it brings. God, if only someone else were doing this to me.

I thrust it in faster, panting at the relief it brings. I’m almost at the edge, it’s almost there, I can feel it pooling in my stomach, oh god, oh god oh god oh-

I’m squirting on my fingers and my rabbit before I know it. It was all too much, but I still want more.

I should stop before I’m too sore to work in my garden tomorrow. I turn off and slowly pull my rabbit out, sighing as I get up to clean it. If someone else were here, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger for my aftercare. But here I am, I just fucked my own brains out with a toy and I have administer my own aftercare. How fun.

I wash it of my juices and leave it in the bathroom, I can deal with it tomorrow. For now, though, I lay back down and dim my flower lamp, dusting the room in a pink hue.

I must’ve been sleeping for a few hours when the looming creature creeps in through my wide open bedroom window. He’s tall, at least six-foot-five, dark green in color that fades to a light green at the end of his extremities, and he carries this musk with him; we’re miles from the ocean but I smell the salt and the sand when he enters my room.

But the big thing, though, is that it’s mating season for his kind. He’s been looking for a human to mate with for weeks, and the longer he waits, the more desperate and deranged he becomes. He needs someone to carry his clutch. Now.

And I guess I’m the first easy womb he’s found to harbor his clutch in.

He creeps over, silent and imposing, and looks down at my stretched hole. She played with herself, he thinks absentmindedly. He doesn’t care if I was stretched or not, his slick tentacles would open me up well enough for his eggs.

He growls as his need increases. He needs this now. He grows out two tentacles to wrap around and spread each leg by the ankles, leaving no room for a fight if I wake up. Two more grow from him and stretch out my arms. He gets closer, letting some smaller tentacles trail up my thighs and caress my love handles.

After mapping out my body, he wraps one large tentacle around my waist, keeping me in place as he moves to insert one questioning tendril into my loose cunt.

He makes a lewd sound at the feeling of my walls, excited to have finally found a mate. He thrusts in further, curling round and mapping my womb.

I think this is when I wake up - a rather slimy tentacle all the way in my pussy, pushing against my cervix, and all my limbs and waist being held down by these larger tentacles with suction cups rather than little pores that drip slick. I open my eyes, hoping this is just a dream. I scream when I see his shadowy figure above me, multiple eyes staring at me. A tentacle, small at the tip but quite large at the base - almost as large as the one around my waist - comes straight for my open mouth and shoves itself down my throat. It immediately starts secreting the same fluid that’s being pushed around in my womb, calming and clouding my mind, maybe this is okay. Maybe I do want this.

I have no say when the slick starts leaking from the corners of my mouth, and I have no other choice but to swallow. It’s warm - I think it warms to my body - and it’s sweet, like strawberries and chocolates sweet. Once those first drops are down my throat I can’t help but suckle on the tentacle in my mouth. It just tastes so sweet!

He slides a second, smaller tentacle into my wet pussy - is the liquid an aphrodisiac? I don’t remember going to bed or waking up this wet, I think to myself. This one gushes more of the liquid and helps to stretch my hole open with the other one to let more tentacles in. God, how many is he gonna put in me?

He slowly slides two or three small tentacles in at a time, I don’t know how many, but when he stops, I’m completely full and can barely move. Just as I think he’s finished with the tentacles, he slides one more in, but this one is different from the other ones in and on my body. This one’s cold, large, equipped with both pores and suction cups, and is rather round and larger at the tip, not tapered off like the others. I whimper at the fullness.

And then he starts moving them around, in and out, thrusting in at different speeds.

He finally makes a sound, he shushes me as the tendril in my mouth pumps out more liquid than before. I sigh at getting the sweet aphrodisiac in a larger amount.

I’m getting close, so so close. All of his tendrils are hitting each and every nerve I have, setting my entire body on fire with pleasure. I start moaning a little louder around the tentacle in my mouth, maybe he’ll like the vibrations.

He does. He love it. He starts excreting more of the fluid into my mouth and my womb, making everything hotter and my mind a little more absent. He thrusts all the tendrils in my womb a little harder, a little faster.

Just as I think it couldn’t get any better, I feel a small, completely slick tentacle prodding at my ass. It’s looking for entrance elsewhere. He prods in slowly, hesitantly, making sure he doesn’t hurt his brooder too much.

Once the tentacle is nicely and comfortably moving around in my ass, I come from it all. I’m moaning and shaking, taking in more of the aphrodisiac. Within minutes of me cumming it’s almost like it never happened, I want more from him.

I feel a few more tentacles slowly make way to be with the one in my ass, pumping me with more of his slick. God it feels so good.

He leaves one small tentacle out to play with my clit, he lets it circle and suck on my nub. Two more slither up my body, leaving a trail of slick as they move, up to my breasts. They lightly touch around and move to suction onto my nipples, and I moan loudly at the feeling.

Apparently, once all of his tentacles are where they should be, I’m too loud for him. He stuffs the tentacle down my throat a little farther and starts pumping more of his liquid out.

“Shhh, shhh, I got you, shhhh, shhh. You’ll look so nice brooding my clutch” he whispers. He’s got a heavy accent, but it’s not one I’ve ever heard. Almost like it’s from a language most don’t speak. I try to look into his eyes, but as he looms over me - blocking out most light - I can barely make out his dark sets of orbs. I hope I’m looking at him, I want him to know I want more.

The limbs in my ass and my womb start moving faster, dripping more and more slick into me as he grunts a little louder. The oddly shaped one starts prodding at my cervix - it wants entry.

Everything becomes too much again, and as I feel his tentacle breach my cervix, I cum a second time from him, moaning loudly at the feeling. I slightly push the tendril out of my throat with my sounds, and it recedes back out to his back.

I mewl at the emptiness, I didn’t want him to leave! He swoops in and crashes our lips together, his slick and our saliva mixing. His tongue - much like his tentacles - slithers it’s way into my mouth - feeling what his tendril was just seconds ago. Can he not feel with his tentacles? I’m sure he can, he grunts when I squeeze my walls around him, he acted in tandem with me. Maybe it feels different.

Just as he’s about to pull away, I feel the tentacle that breached my cervix start to expand, like it’s hollowing around something. And sure enough, a few seconds go by and I feel something plop into my womb, followed by another, and another and another and another-

There’s got to be at least 20 small plops that go by before I zone out, totally in love with the feeling. I look down at my stomach, watching it inflate. His hand reaches out to cup my womb, slowly caressing it and cooing at me. I smile at the feeling of truly being full for the first time in my life.

I zone back in when I feel the tentacles in my ass start to pull out, slowly and one by one as to not hurt me. He starts pulling out the ones in my cunt, too. I whine at being empty.

“Shhh, pretty girl, you won't be empty for long” he whispers against my ear, the only tentacle left in me is the one in my womb now. It’s still pumping, my stomachs still swelling.

When it stops swelling, he goes to tear it off.

“What, what what do you think you’re doing? Why are you cutting it off?” I ask. They’re the first words out of my mouth to him, my voice shot from the tentacle that was down my throat.

“It’s customary. So you don’t worry about the clutch inside of you, and they also have both parents with them.” He grunts out as he finally tears it off. He doesn’t bleed from it, I guess it is customary for breeding.

“Sleep, grow my clutch dear brooder. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He whispers as he gets up to leave. He uncurls the tendrils from my body and stands up from where he was on my bed. I whimper at being cold and alone now.

He circles around to the side and puts a tentacle back in my throat. I accept it immediately, letting it settle heavy on my tongue. It starts pumping out a different tasting liquid, this one tastes like how honeysuckle smells. I start nodding off to the taste of it.

I wake up hours later than usual, the sun is almost right above me when I wake up. It’s got to be at least 10:30 now.

The tentacle is gone from my mouth, but the one he cut off is still sitting in my cunt, fully extended to my womb. My womb is completely filled and extended, the skin taught from how many eggs are inside me. I see a small note, a pair of scissors, and a glass of water on my bedside table as I swerve to the side to stand up.

Don’t take the tentacle out, just cut it so it doesn’t impede your movement. I'll take it out when I get there. See you tonight.

-Miķelis

I smile, rubbing my large belly. I wonder what’ll happen tonight. I cut the excess off, leaving maybe an inch to grab it with, and throw it in the trash can by bed.

I stand up, hearing my knees pop and my back moan in pain from the sudden added weight. I guess I can't work in the garden today. There goes my Saturday.

I waddle to my kitchen to make breakfast, but I honestly don't have much energy to do that. All I want to do is get back in bed and snuggle up until Miķelis gets here tonight.

After breakfast, I go freshen up (get all the slick off of my body) and lay back down. I find a small little cup and a second note on my other bedside table.

Drink this about an hour before sundown, it'll make tonight easier.

-Miķelis

It smells nice, almost exactly like the first liquid he pumped into me last night. Maybe it is that liquid? Who knows, but I want to listen to him, so I turn on my other side and settle down.

I wake up again a few hours later, it's about two in the afternoon now. My stomach is larger, its moving a little, and I feel an insatiable heat in my cunt. I can't even reach my clit to play with myself. I whine in frustration, getting up to get my small bullet vibrator from the drawer. That'll do the trick.

"Ohhh, Oh my god! Miķelis!!!" I moan out when i squat down to the lower drawer where my vibrator is. Everything just moved inside me and everything hurts. The tentacle almost starts sliding out. I quickly grab my bullet vibrator waddle to go grab some panties to keep the tentacle and vibrator in place for when I lay back down.

Putting on panties is harder than it seems when you can't reach your cunt or see most of your legs for that matter, but once I get them on, I waddle quickly back to bed. I need this more than I needed it last night.

I push the tendril back in, sighing at the comfort it brings to have something so stable in me. I slide the bullet into my panties and turn it on, mewling at the pleasure it brings. Nowhere near what Miķelis gave me last night, but it'll do until he gets here.

As the bullet buzzes away, I go to play with my breasts. When my hands cup them, though, I notice they're a little larger than they were last night. They seem, I don't know, heavier? Like they're filled with something? Oh my god, oh!! What if they're filled with milk for our clutch? Do his eggs even need milk? Ooooh is that what's going to happen tonight? Is that why he's coming back?

I cum quickly when I pinch my nipples. They're so tender right now! I sigh and turn down the bullet, letting it go at a small hum on my clit. I go back to sleep.

When I wake up again, it's about 30 minutes before sundown, a little later than when he said I should drink whatever's in the small cup. The bullet turned off, so I turn it back on at the low hum it was at. It feels nice to have a small distraction.

I quickly swallow down whatever he gave me, it tastes like a mix of the strawberries and chocolate aphrodisiac with something else, not the honeysuckle, but something equally sweet. Raspberry? Jasmine. It think it's jasm-

My cunt starts spasming out of nowhere, and I've noticed a few things:

My stomach is at least twice it's size that was earlier.

my bedsheets have become extremely wet - as if I poured the entire ocean on them wet.

My breasts are leaking something that looks like milk

I think I'm contracting?

Do I start pushing? Do I take the tentacle out? He said not to take the tentacle out until he got here, what do I do what do I do?? Damn Miķelis, giving me the best night of my life just to leave me alone. But he's coming, he's just not here right now! That's all!

I'm writhing on the bed for what feels like days before I see that it's completely dark outside now. Miķelis should be here soon. Please show up. I don't think I can do this alone.

I whimper a little louder and feel the tentacle slowly start moving outward, something's pushing it out from the inside. I push it back in, I can't not do one of the two things Miķelis asked of me, I can't upset this man.

Just as I start crying, I see him in the corner of my doorway. He rushes in when he hears me in full.

"Shhhh, shhh shhh, dolly, it's okay, I'm here now. Let's move you to the bathroom dear, my eggs need to be hatched in water." He whispers as he holds me. He picks me up and coos silently on the way to my bathroom. How does he know the layout to my house?

He sets me down in the bathtub and starts the water. He lets it get to a warm temperature before closing the stopper and letting it fill. As it nears my breasts, he stops the water and helps me onto the large ledge.

"Oops, sorry dear, I didn't see you had panties on" he chuckles softly as he pulls them off. The vibrator falls into the tub -thank god it's meant to be submerged - and he turns it off and chucks it onto the bathroom counter. He does the same with my panties.

"I'm so happy you listened to my directions, dear, both for the tentacle and the drink. Women have tried to take it out before, it never does end well." he whispers as he rubs my belly. I whimper at his words.

The lights are on in the bathroom, and I finally get a good look at him. He is indeed tall, and only his tentacles - which I only see eight right now - are the dark to light green ombré. He's got dark brown hair, olive skin, and his eyes match his tentacles - one's dark green and the other's light green. He doesn't have a plethora of eyes like I thought, only two. Why did I think he had multiple sets of eyes?

The contractions start at a heavier pace now, and he pulls the tentacle out. He places it in the tub.

He coos at me and rubs my belly a little more, telling me it'll be okay. I hope it will be.

He tells me to start pushing, and I can't not listen to him. A tentacle wraps around my chest, just above my nipples to keep me upright.

I push, I feel them moving closer to my entrance.

A few more pushes, and the first small egg makes it's way to crowning. He slips a tentacle into my mouth and tells me to suck. A second one makes it's way to my clit and circles around it. I moan at the comfort his tentacles bring me.

The liquid starts pouring out into my mouth, and I feel myself loosening up as I drink up more of it. I hear the first egg plop out, followed quickly by the second, and the third, fourth fifth sixth seven-

At least 20 small eggs have slipped out of my loose hole before I start crying a little louder. How many are there? How many did he put in me?

It finally stops at 36, and I slump into his tentacles, letting him do what he pleases with my body.

By now, it's at least an hour after sundown, probably around nine or a little after. He carries me back to bed and lays me down, letting me catch my breath.

When I've finally caught my breath, I feel a slew of tentacles prodding at my loose cunt, not forcing themselves in yet, but asking for entrance.

I sigh around the tendril in my mouth. I try to say yes around it, he can shove them in me and make me his brooder again. He smiles, he got the memo.

I'm loose from last night and just giving birth to his clutch, so he easily slides three or more in at once. I feel the ovipositor tendril come in with a second bulk of them this time. It's already regrown? This one feels larger though?

"It regrows quickly during mating season. And you can take a larger clutch this time dear, you can take a larger tentacle for it. It grows with each mating session." He explains. I guess I looked a little confused.

A few tentacles ask for entrance at my ass again, and again, I let him in. There's still some entering my loose pussy, but not as many as there were earlier.

The remaining go up to cup my still leaking breasts, the tentacles immediately go to suckle on my nipples. Two more go to cup the underside of them.

I guess he doesn't feel the need to tie me up this time. I like that. I move my arms to wrap around his neck to get closer to him, I want to breathe his ocean scent in.

He smiles and puts a hand on my back to bring me in closer, the other on my neck to keep a good hold of me. He leans in to whisper.

"You are meant to be a breeder, dear. You'll take every single clutch I give you and won't let a single egg spoil. You make such a good brooder, sweetie. You're the best brooder I've ever had. You're my only brooder for this season, I swear to you. You'll be my only brooder for every other season.

What a good slut, deary. Taking all I give you and still begging for more. I couldn't help myself when I smelled your sex last night. You just had to keep your windows open, just had to tempt me. Now look at you, begging for a second clutch to take care of."

I whimper as I cum around his tentacles again, he just makes me feel so good. I can't stop myself this time, I feel myself adding to the wetness around us. I'm gushing around his multiple cocks. I hide my face in his neck as best I can with the tentacle in my mouth when he speeds up. I think the aphrodisiac numbs pain, too.

The tentacles in my ass move at a different pace than the ones in my cunt, and I whimper a little louder at the sensation. The tendril in my mouth pumps more liquid to calm me. God do I love the taste of it. Can't that be the only thing I drink for the rest of my life?

The tentacles in my cunt speed up, and I feel the ovipositor tendril make its way for my cervix again. Already? I can't complain, but it feels like no time has passed at all. But he doesn't move to breach yet, he simply straddles it there.

More and more of the liquid is pumping into all of my holes, he's pounding my cunt and my ass, and my mouth is full. It feels like I didn't just cum and I'm already cumming again. I'm gushing against him and I feel his smile even with my eyes closed. I whimper a little louder, everything alive with fire but dull at the same time.

He pulls out the tentacle from my mouth and moves to kiss me as the ovipositor breaches my cervix. I cry out loudly as it happens and he smothers me with the kiss. I feel the all the other tentacles still and the ovipositor start pumping eggs into me again. I sigh quietly, it already feels comforting and constant even if it's the second time. I smile into his lips at the thought.

The clutch he pumps into me is larger than the last ones, if only by a little bit. It still feels jarring, though. I don't think 36 will fit this time if they're larger.

I whimper at being full once again, happy at being at this point again. He pulls away from my lips and smiles at me, moving us back down onto the bed flat, letting a had move to my stomach and leaving the other to still rest at my neck. It moves to cup my jaw.

He stops pumping me to take his other tentacles out, slowly, knowing even though I like this, my body still isn't fully acclimated to it. Once they're all out, he again cuts off his ovipositor. I whimper at being empty again.

This time, though, instead of getting up and putting me to sleep, he shushes me and tells me he'll be right back. He comes back with a glass of water and lays down with me. Is he staying this time? Oh I hope he stays this time!

He holds the glass for me as I take small gulps, smiling down at my large belly. It's a little larger than it started at last time, god it's gonna be a bad night tomorrow if they're that big. But it's only gonna get bigger and more painful from here. Who cares, hopefully I'll acclimate.

He moves us around to spoon, moving his arms to be wrapped around my full belly. I smile at the gesture.

I really hope he does this all mating season.

I have wanted to write tentacle sex for so long, and this one could go on forever, but I mean it'd just repeat after this.

Not super edited, sorry for any mistakes

Again, if you actually got to the end of this, why don't you stay for a while? I got some other works in the making at the moment and chances are if you've found my posts you'll like the stuff i repost. Just a thought :)

Creds to @/cafekitsune for the dividers ♡

#somno breeding #monster fuxker marya #tentacles #terato #monster fucker #ovipositor #cervix penetration #lactation #rapid pregnancy #i hate tags #breeding k1nk #Spotify