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#maybe do a short oneshot
lamortwrites · 27 days
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Is it okay to just like. Post longfic without having the rest of it written. Like is that allowed
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xhanisai · 1 year
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I’m curious-
Am I the only one who draws and writes stuff that mainly starts or diverges from the first three seasons, rather than making them canon compliant with s4 and onwards? 
I don’t know how to explain it but I feel like after episode Ladybug in s3, the canon story becomes very complex and heavy so it’s a little harder to come up with stuff that happens during then. 
Like there’s too much going on at once. 
Drawing is easier cos no thinking is required but writing is quite a challenge. That’s why I don’t write fics for medias that have a complex storyline because my brain would get overwhelmed easily lol.
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jade-of-mourning · 4 months
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the problem with mako is that once you realize just how many insanely Layered Issues™ the guy has, you realize that you cannot shove them into a single oneshot like you'd planned and that you may possibly have to write about him for a very extended period of time to expand on all the many ideas that are rotting your brain.
(he's just so. so easy to give Fucked Up Brain Things to.)
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You're Always Welcome Here
She gave him her key.
The day started out like any other normal day. The difference happened when a Messager hawk arrived with a letter in his claw and a pouch tied around his right leg. Gaara tensed, weary of the bag until the slight scent of vanilla reached his nose and his eyes spotted the peach envelop that reveled who the secret senders identity was instantly. There was only one person this would be from.
Sakura Haruno.
The two had started seeing each other last spring, but being from two different villages, letters were often the way they communicated. Neither of them seemed to mind it to much. Gaara sure didn't. As much as he would like to see her in person, being the Kazekage isolated him from the rest of the world at times. Sakura understood this as she had her own busy schedule. She never expected to be able to see him every day.
Even with a lack of face-to-face communication, letters were sent often enough to forget about the distance. This was why he had a pile of letters hidden in his room for his eyes only. Her letters gave him something to look forward to between the piles of reports and the headaches that came in the form of elder meetings.
Going forward to collect his prizes, no one would be able to see the way his mouth slightly turned upwards as he opened the envelope to start reading. However, his attempt at a smile quickly changed once he finished her letter.
It was a simple letter stating that she would be busy over the next few weeks. With flu season coming soon and her various experiments going on, she might be lacking in the letter correspondence department but she wanted to tell him so he didn't worry.
That part didn't bother him. It filled him with warmth knowing that she was a highly respected medic-nin with a lot of responsibilities and reports to do but she still tried to make time for him. It was inevitable that she would occasionally become swamped with work. The same happened to him time to time.
That wasn't what made him nearly drop the letter and its now extremely important attachment to the floor.
No.
It was when his seafoam green eyes casually scrolled over the last couple of lines in the letter that his fingers suddenly wanted to disobey his mind.
"...Here. Incase you ever need to stop by (and maybe get a flu shot while your here), just let yourself in. After all your always welcome here... PS: Beware of the traps"
Eyes flickering to the little cotton pouch with a small white bow holding the top tightly shut. Gaara quickly opened it and dumped out a small metal key.
The key that was supposedly to open his partners door... all the way in Konoha.
All things considered this was a highly dangerous stunt Sakura pulled. What if any enemies saw the Messager hawk? What if they shot it down and read the contents of the letter? Now they would have access to her house.
These were the unwelcomed thoughts playing out Gaara mind as he quickly gathered and appointed his siblings as substitute leaders under the guise of an impromptu vacation in the Leaf. Besides, It wasn't a real vacation, he rationalized. He would go to the leaf, lecture Sakura on the importance of message safety, stay the night, and then come back home to the Sand in the morning. That would be it, he would be back in exactly one week.
He ignored the curiosity and amusement dancing in their eyes as he swiftly turned and left the tower.
He found his thoughts weren't done with him yet.
What if they somehow managed to get past the leaf guards patrolling around the village? That's what haunted Gaara the entire time he was packing for his sudden trip to the Leaf.
What if they had managed to find her house out of the hundreds of houses there? He was at the gate about to start running when this thought happened.
What would have happen if they managed to take her by surprise? They could eliminate her and then rob her for all her medical scrolls. Those would sell for a fortune. Gaara by no means thought of the Godaimes apprentice to be a weak woman. He wouldn't consider a suitable partner if she was. No she was one of the strongest kunoichi he knew.
But he of all people knew how even the best of soliders could fall when properly unaware.
He didn't want to think anymore as he leapt to start his journey. If he sped up and cut down the time on his trip a little. Well. That was his business.
His thoughts didn't bother him again until he was in the lush forests of Konoha. Logic seemed to catch up to him in his change of environment.
Not once through his trip did did question why the Kazekage of would suddenly show up in Konoha unannounced. Nor did it occur to him that even if he was to show up, there were special rooms for high ranking political figures. There would be no way the kazekage would have no where to stay and be forced to stay at a random ninjas house. Even if he needed a special flu shot, Konoha would surely just send him a medic instead request he go to them.
All in all, a key to Sakura Harunos house made no sense politically. He slowly stopped running for a second as the next thought entered his head.
Ah.
Sakura simply wanted him to visit and wanted him to stay with her whenever he visited.
Shaking his head as he started running again, this time at a more leisurely pace. Even his safety concerns seemed more flawed more he thought about it.
Even if random enemies did somehow get ahold of Sakuras key, she would most likely would have sent a confirmation letter later to see if he received it or not. Not only that, how would they even know what house was hers? How would they even get in one of the most protected villages without been detected? If they could do that, there would have be no reason to have the key in the first place, surely they could just broken in and robbed the place at any time.
Checking in at the village gates, ignoring the confused looks and the rushed statement of "Informing the Hokage right away Kazekage-sama," Gaara had already started down the path of his lovers place.
Using the key that started this whole journey, he felt some type of joy in watching that it really did open her house. She had entrusted him the real thing. Easily disarming the traps she spoke of, he sat on her couch as he wasted time for her to get home.
Three hours later and his anger was nonexistent by the time he actually felt her chakra inch near him. After all, logically he knew all his earlier concerns were improbable. That didn't mean he liked the situation any more than before and he was fully prepared to inform her of that until he saw her actually open the door.
The first thing he noted was just how tired she looked. Next that he saw was the kunai in her hand as she obviously noticed the lack of traps around her place. It eased some part of him. Knowing that even though his partner was tired, she still was alert about her surroundings, even in her own house.
Then their eyes finally met. He opened his mouth to start, but found Sakura beat him to the punch when she suddenly smiled and launched herself at him. Pushing her face into his chest, Gaara could barely make out the words, "Your here" in the silent room.
Well. That's just not fair.
How could he mad at his love when she obviously missed him more than he thought she did? Leaning down, he planted a quick kiss on her forehead. Before he could fully pull back, she had chased his lips with hers until they met.
Melting into the kiss, Gaara had one last coherent thought before his mind went blank
'Well damn.'
Guess he would take a real vacation while he was here after all.
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sisterdivinium · 8 months
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Me: tries to keep a mostly WN-related dash and for that reason only follows a little less than some 20 blogs
Also me: jeez why is my dashboard always so quiet
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blanketforcas · 10 months
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i always think i'm such a fake for only having executive dysfunction with studying but then i will wonder whatever could be the reason i fail to read the fics i'm excited to read every day
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altruistic-meme · 10 months
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me, an author: i would literally burst into tears on the spot if someone bound a physical copy of one of my fics!
every post i’ve seen where someone has bound a fanfic: *the author is praising it and so overjoyed*
posts i’ve seen by other authors: man it would be so cool if someone bound my fic into a book!!
still me anyway, thinking about asking an author if they are ok with me binding their fic into a book: what if its creepy what if they hate the idea what if it makes them uncomfortable what if-
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sansxfuckyou · 4 months
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friendly reminder that if a fic reads 1/1 on Ao3, that means its a motherfucking oneshot and don't say 'looking forward to the next chapter' when it says the fic is completed
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russeliarat · 1 year
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In regards to this post:
So the actual idea - Linked Universe fans, this one is actually for you! For context, this is about the Colours, specifically Shadow and Vio, and it doesn’t really matter if the Chain knows if Four can split or not since all that matters is that Shadow can sometimes, very rarely split off into his own physical form when the Colours split. The setting is a masquerade ball for literally any Zelda whose been in a peaceful era for some time - which could be Lullaby, Dawn and/or Aurora, Fable, etc. I imagine the Chain was invited whilst they had been in the era for a little while and were asked to come to basically discuss the monster problem and guard any civilians (but also to have a break too, I guess)
While preparing for this ball, something happened and Four split, which also had a chance of bringing out Shadow Link, which happened. The Colours freak out and can’t merge again because upon Shadow’s request, Vio allows them to have a bit of a power struggle to perhaps get back at him for his previous betrayal (obviously said with so much intricacies and subtlety). Wanting to keep the others out of their struggle, Vio tells the other three to continue on without them. Green (since he seems the most like Four to the Chain) tells them that he can’t attend and makes an excuse.
Now the fun part, this mental power battle already began once the others had left as Vio and Shadow were already preparing for a kind of special event. One of the major occurrences is that Vio had also put his appearance into Shadow’s hands, which caused him to cut Vio’s hair - little bit more context to how I personally view Four and the Colours, any physical changes to one of the Colours occurs to all of them by default, meaning that night, all the Colours returned to their short-haired look. I imagine Vio was the one who wanted to grow their hair out so Shadow kind of did this more to dishearten him a slight and mess with him. It also means the Chain would absolutely know Four could split once the debacle were over due to the scene they planned to cause.
The actual scene occurs in the middle of the ball’s dancing. With Red, Green, and Blue all in attendance but low profile, Shadow and Vio manage to grab the attention of everyone by doing this kind of macabre tango that almost perfectly describes the attitude Shadow has towards the situation (I have a specific song in mind it’ll be in tags) and it becomes this thing were they fight to take the lead and keep eye contact and withhold any unnecessary emotion. The entire thing being done publicly was the result of wanting to be able to psyche Vio out from the pressure. The best idea was that though it was a masked ball to keep everyone’s identities safe during the whole monster ordeal, Shadow and Vio decided to abandon their masks before they went to the ball itself.
The ending? Well, it’s either one or neither or both are psyched out in some subtle way and they leave the ball as this kind of mysterious presence that stole the attention of the ball.
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ladywaterfall · 9 months
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It’s been years since I felt like writing fanfic, but after binging the penumbra podcast junoverse… I feel it
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sagesfandomspot · 2 years
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Hi!!!
So, if you are taking any requests, I was wondering if you could write a one-shot in the New Beginnings series canon, on either of these:
Jess and Rory have to deal with talking to a traumatized Ellie after she has walked in on them having sex on their wedding anniversary, with the intention of surprising them with Breakfast In Bed. (kind of like that Modern Family S2 episode)
OR...
Jess and Rory has to deal with the fact that Ellie is no longer a little girl, especially when she goes out on a date with a male friend (it's not a date; it's a mutual hangout) and have a reassuring conversation with each other. (this is from the chapter in Our Future when Jess admits to Lorelai that he's scared and he doesn't know what to do when his daughter brings over a boy.
Thanks!!!
(First, omg thank you for the prompt!!! Second, not doing the first prompt because I don't want to subject my sweet baby child to that sort of trauma. 😂 but the second...)
(spoilers for the New Beginnings series)
She’s thirteen the first time she comes home and casually announces that she and her friend, Avery, are going to go to a movie that weekend.
Rory and Jess have never met Avery before, but they figure she’s a new friend from school so they approve so long as they can meet this friend beforehand. Ellie nods with a wide smile, happy to have her hang out parent approved, and returns to her room to do her homework. Rory and Jess think it’s strange she seems so surprised they agreed so easily – do they not let her hang out with friends enough?
It isn’t until a messy-haired and bright-eyed boy of about twelve shows up at their door Saturday afternoon does Jess put the pieces together.
“Uh, hi, can I help you?” he asks.
“Hi Mr. Mariano! I’m Avery.”
“Avery?” Jess questions with a squint.
“Yeah… I’m here to take Ellie to the movies? Ellie said you or Mrs. Mariano could drive us. My mom will drive us home, though.”
The poor kid is just stuck standing on the doorstep, nerves and confusion visible on his face, while Jess processes that Avery is not a girl, but, in fact, a boy. A boy is taking his daughter to the movies.
His daughter is going on a date.
“Rory?” he calls over his shoulder. “Come in, just wait here a sec,” he says, ushering Avery into the house.
Rory comes down the stairs with an inquisitive look on her face as Jess shuts the door and runs a hand through his hair.
“Hey who’s thi-ow what?” Rory’s interrupted by Jess grasping her elbow and guiding her into his den, closing the door behind them. “Jess, what?”
“Avery is a boy. Ellie’s going out with a boy.”
Rory snorts before noticing the complete and totally serious expression on her husband’s face. “Oh.”
“She’s thirteen.”
“Well… maybe they’re just going as friends,” Rory suggests weakly.
Jess nods, choosing to agree. “Right. Just… we’ve given her all the talks we need to, right?”
“I think so,” Rory says, worrying her lip with her teeth in a way that tells Jess she’s very much not okay with this.
“It’ll be fine. She’s got her phone and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’ll be fine.”
Rory nods halfheartedly before opening the door and calling into the house, “Elle, honey, can you come here for a minute?”
Ellie appears in the doorway a minute later with hair tied back in a sort of braided tiara, face adorned with mascara and lipgloss, looking more grown up than her parents have ever known her to look.
“So, Avery.”
Ellie presses her lips together and nods curtly. “Yep. You guys said it was okay.”
“We thought Avery was a girl,” Jess says, hushed.
“Well, Avery’s a boy. Can we go? We wanna get snacks before the commercials start.”
“Is this a date?” Rory asks, eyes sharp.
“Oh my God, relax,” Ellie says with a laugh that does the opposite of ease her parents’ nerves. “Avery’s just a friend, you guys can chill.”
“Hey, we just want to be kept in the know. You’re growing up, but you’re still a kid, and your mom and I just want to keep you safe.”
“First, no one says 'in the know' anymore. Second, I’ll be fine, and if he tries anything, I’ll kick him in the nuts and call you right away,” Ellie says with a grin.
Rory rolls her eyes while Jess laughs and presses a kiss to the crown of Ellie’s head, cupping the back of her head in his palm and briefly flashing back to the days when she fit in the crook of one arm.
“That’s my girl. Go keep Avery company, I’ll drive you guys in a minute.”
“Thanks, Daddy!” Ellie chirps before prancing out the entryway.
As Ellie leaves, Jess turns back to Rory as she watches the place her daughter was just standing with wistful eyes.
“She’s too young for this. I didn’t like a boy until I was fifteen! Practically sixteen!”
“Hey. She said they’re just friends.”
“And you believe her?” Rory hisses.
“She’s never given me any reason not to.”
“What about that time she stole candy from Sookie's kitchen?”
“You mean when she was two?”
Rory’s shoulders slump. “Yes…” she mumbles.
“I trust her. I don’t trust Avery, but our girl is trustworthy.”
Rory sighs and folds her arms across her stomach. “Would it make us bad parents if we sat in the back of the theater and watched them?”
“As much as I’d love that, I think she might notice us breathing down her neck.”
“But–”
“Dad, come on!” Ellie calls, interrupting Rory.
Rory lets out a heavy breath, a slight pout present on her lips that Jess wants nothing more than to kiss away, but he has an impatient tween waiting on him, so he presses a kiss to his wife’s cheek and leaves Rory alone to worry herself to death.
Neither of them are able to focus on much of anything for the two hours Ellie and Avery are at the movie. They try reading, watching TV, working, but nothing distracts them from the thousands of what-if scenarios that fill their minds.
Finally, as the sun starts to dip below the horizon, they hear the front door open and close. Running footsteps make their way from the entryway and Ellie is a blur as she comes through the living room and makes her way up the stairs.
“How was the movie?” Rory asks as calmly as she can make her voice sound.
“He kissed me!” Ellie calls back just before they hear her bedroom door slam closed.
“What?!” Jess yells, eyes wide. “He did what?”
Rory simply smirks to herself before hauling herself off the couch and up the stairs for some girl talk.
“Told you,” is all Jess hears from Rory as he covers his face with his hands and groans.
He so isn’t ready for this.
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lyralit · 10 months
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ways to start writing more efficiently
stop writing with the word count on!
use a font like comic sans -- trick your brain into thinking that it's not important, that the writing can be stupid, if it's in a stupid font (if you can't tell i despise comic sans)
time yourself to get to a goal
or give yourself a certain amount of time
quantity >> quality in the first draft(s)!
jot down what you want to happen in that chapter
try organizing your writing (nanowrimo, for example)
do *not* reread! it doesn't need to make sense, it just needs to be there
try not to stick yourself to something you saw on tumblr. what works for someone else doesn't necessarily work for you!
take breaks. time those breaks.
practice writing short stories / oneshots of your characters.
try getting all your writing done within a certain goal (as much as I can for 30 minutes) rather than writing 5 minutes on or off
write down every little wormy idea that comes into your brain! sure, it's probably for a different plot, but maybe you can work it in somehow?
on that note, mash elements of your plots together rather than starting a whole new story
see maybe what little writing competitions you can submit your work to
proclaim your goal to the wide web for some peer pressure
rewards yourself. cheer on every thousand-word milestone. brag to your friends that you've written something, anything.
don't think of the big goal—don't think of publishing, or posting, etc. think of the end of your chapter, the development of your character, where it goes.
switch your writing environment! where are you most productive?
make a playlist only for when you write. never for anything else.
getting off tumblr, probably.
have people remind you of your goals.
remember that it all comes with discipline, but also your mental health is the most important!! don't sacrifice half your sleep to meet your nanowrimo goals. try to recognize when it's taking you too long and close the document. do something else. come back later.
take care of yourself. <3 use this post as a breather (or reminder to start!)
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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𓆩♡𓆪 SO NEEDY! ࿐࿔
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!
content: needy!reader; afab!reader; fem!reader; nsfw; smut; porn with little to no plot; drabble? i tried, ended up being a oneshot; scenario w jjk men; dry humping; p in v sex; riding
w.c: 1k
n/a: i was really horny when i wrote this so i had to take a cold shower afterwards lmfao. silly scenario, lwk a headcanon too. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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...
"How was work?" Your boyfriend asks you as you get back home from work. You sigh heavily, 'it was absolute hell and draining. I wish I could quit,' you think. "It was okay," you say, lazily dragging your feet towards the couch. 
Right now, you want nothing but to be wrapped in your boyfriend's arms and think about nothing. No slacking coworkers, insufferable managers, just you and him. You join your partner on the couch, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck instead of sitting beside him, and he lets you. 
He can tell how drained you are. Your eyes are drowsy, your breathing heavy and slow, you look like you are about to fall asleep by the way you are snuggling your head into the crook of his neck, your soft breaths hitting his skin. "Tough day, huh?" he murmurs, a hand gently caressing your hair and playing with a few strands out of place while the other rubs your lower back.
You hum a soft 'mhm' and nod, inhaling the scent of his shampoo on his hair and the faint smell of his cologne, one you gifted him on his birthday.
Perhaps he didn't notice. Or maybe he did but chose to say nothing. But you did feel your clothed cunt pressed over where his cock was, a sudden arousal and need rushing through your veins as you cuddled him. You bit your lip, how long had it been since you had intimacy?
It was strange, considering how active your sex life used to be. However, due to a slight change in your work hours, his schedule and yours were not always matching. It was hard to have a moment with him that was not cut short. You'd often had to recur to your fingers to find some sort of release to satisfy your needs. Which were not always enough.
Your pussy started to throb, and you grew anxious. You were not one to start things out, it was usually him. Was it perhaps the stress from work that spiked your sexual frustration up to its breaking point?
You subtly started seeking friction for some relief, making it seem you were looking to get more comfortable on his lap. Of course, it ended up seeming strange the way your hips rolled and could not keep yourself still.
“What’re you doing?” He asks bemused. "I thought you were tired," he teases, his hand travelling from the small of your back to slip under your leggings, groping the bare skin of your ass.
"I'm sorry, I just-" you gasped, his hand squeezing the plush of your ass. He couldn't see the flustered look you had on because of being caught—not that you were 'very' subtle about it—trying to dry-hump him. But he could see the reddened tips of your ears from the corner of his eye and hear your small whimpers along with your breaths heavying the more you pressed yourself against him.
"You need to relieve some stress, is that it?" He murmured, a sly smirk tugging the corner of his lips. He liked seeing this new side of you, so needy and aching for him that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, not even after a long and tiring day of work.
You nodded again with a small whimper leaving your lips, grinding your pulsing cunt with need against his hardened bulge. "P-please, I need you," you sputtered, one of your hands trailing down to the elastic of his sweatpants, trying to tug it down.
Your boyfriend quietly groaned, dropping soft kisses on your neck, nipping at the skin as his hands helped you to get rid of the clothes that stood between your pussy and him until the slick of your bare dripping cunt damped his sweatpants.
"You look so pretty when you're so in need of my cock filling you up, love," he whispered, his voice deep and filled with lust. He tugged his sweatpants down enough for his cock to spring out, hitting his abdomen and leaking in precum. He gave himself a few languid pumps, his tearing tip teasing your folds and grazing ever so slightly on your swollen clit. "How bad do you need me to stuff you full of my dick, baby?" He asked, his hand coming forward to gently stimulate your neglected bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.
"Bad, really bad," You answered quickly, your voice wavering and desperate. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your eyes pleading him to have mercy and give you what you yearned so much for. "Please," you breathed, angling your hips to align your entrance to his cock.
"Please what? Use your words, princess," he said, teasing you by gliding his tip between your pussylips.
You let out a shaky breath, his taunting sending shivers throughout your body and your heart racing. "Please, fuck me," you whined, leaning forward to press soft kisses along his jawline down to his neck, trying to coax him into stretching your needy cunny with his shaft.
Your boyfriend let out a guttural groan, leaning his head back as you sucked on the skin, giving you more space where to mark him as yours, marks he'd wear with pride the next day. "Fuck, baby, you don't know what you're doing to me," he grunted.
"So, is that a yes?" You asked impatiently, biting your lip in anticipation. He didn't have to answer, his cock did the job by easing its way inside your warm walls until he was fully sheathed inside you, gaining a moan of relief from you. You held on to his shoulders to steady yourself and wasted no time, bucking your hips at a deep pace, already chasing your so-needed release.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you whimpered, your eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure as you bounced on his cock, lewd and loud squelches of your wet pussy filling out the room. "Anytime, sweetheart," he hissed, his lips pressed on your ear, grunting as he met your thrusts pistoning his cock in and out of your cunt.
TOJI, SUGURU, CHOSO, HIROMI, NANAMI
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ohbother2 · 2 months
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Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.
I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!
Thank youuuu
Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!
Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!
This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Short-Stack
To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought. 
To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.
Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less. 
That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point. 
He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you. 
“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room. 
“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”
“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?” 
“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.
He wasn’t even convincing himself. 
“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration. 
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.” 
“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.
"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck. 
"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?" 
"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you." 
"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression. 
"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me." 
"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"
"You know exactly what you were doing, babe." 
A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."
His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.
"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?" 
You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps. 
"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed." 
"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.
He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”
You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin. 
“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"
“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most. 
"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."
With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically. 
"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"
"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.
"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control. 
“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."
A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck. 
"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you. 
"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."
"Adam-"
"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."
A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you. 
"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch. 
"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build. 
"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust. 
"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs. 
You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.
He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply. 
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”
"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“
Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place. 
Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.
"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."
"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"
"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets. 
Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"
Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds. 
"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."
A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks. 
"Oh! Oh Adam-"
Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room. 
"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"
"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."
You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.
"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.
"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver. 
Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks. 
"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"
"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"
You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”
"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.
"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise. 
Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders. 
He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.
"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.
"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me." 
You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust. 
Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace. 
He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame. 
"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore." 
You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."
“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises. 
A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.
Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it. 
"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."
"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."
You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.
"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."
He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could. 
"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."
You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.
"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead. 
"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."
"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.” 
Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud. 
With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.
“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.” 
“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”
“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent. 
“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.” 
He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”
“We’re disgusting.”
“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”
“You’re disgusting.” 
“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”
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rootbeerworshiper · 1 month
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chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: an argument with your boyfriend leaves you more insecure than ever, his words ringing in your head until he finds a way to make it up to you.
warnings: angst, hint of fluff not rlly, fem!receiving, so much praise, some use of pet names, slight overstimulation, fingering……yeah!
@nicksmainbitch hopefully you enjoy i tried my best to do your request justice
a/n: this is so short i’m so sorry im working on so many series rn but i wanted to get a oneshot out feel free to hate me
love, sienna <3
“maybe you’re just too insecure to be in a relationship” Chris yells, releasing every ounce of anger he stored away with one simple sentence.
you feel frozen, feet planted heavily in the ground although you’re knees could give out at any moment. this conversation was not supposed to be happening, not here.
not when Chris was supposed to go film a video and especially not when you had a major final coming up—the stress of both things clearly manifesting it’s way into your relationship.
the fluorescent lighting of the boys room sends rays over your whole body, ironically making you feel like a spotlight is shining at you, egging you on to say something in reply—but you can’t.
your body reacts to his words before your brain does, a quivering lip and eyes full of tears that want nothing more than to pour out.
is this really how he saw you? some insecure fragile girl who’s not ready for a relationship?
maybe he’s not entirely wrong about the fragile part, because all you can do is cry, and as pathetic as it may be, it’s the only thing you have the strength for.
you and Chris have been fighting for the past few weeks, it started off as small snarky responses but developed into arguments that left an echo on practically the whole neighbourhood.
subconsciously, you hug yourself, wrapping your shaking hands around your waist to seek some comfort, even if your boyfriend is standing directly across from you.
for a second, you see a glimpse of pity in his eyes, something in his brain telling him for a split second telling him he’s in the wrong, but before he can walk over to replace your hands with his own you snap.
“do you think i’m stupid or something? is that what you genuinely think of me?” you attempt to raise the volume behind your voice but instead it comes out more croaky, more weak.
Chris starts defending himself, as he does far too often. “of course not y/n i just-“
“rachel. you’d rather spend time with fucking rachel than your own girlfriend.”
he’s silent, taking his own turn being dead frozen.
“maybe i am insecure, Chris, but at least im respectful enough to not cancel on my long term girlfriend for some girl i just met on fucking instagram” your sadness is replaced with anger when you lay everything out.
“you know, i had just finished fucking pouring my heart out into my journal about how you’re the one for me, about how i saw a forever with you, and then” you let out a petty laugh. “and then i go on instagram to see my boyfriend, Chris Sturniolo at boa steakhouse with some instagram influencer”
“she’s just a-“ he starts, ultimately getting cut off by your own anger yet again.
“do you know how embarrassing that is for me? going with with some friend to a fucking fancy steakhouse, the steakhouse you took us on our first date to?”
It really is insane when you lay it out like this, even when part of you felt like you were in the wrong, his wrongs outweighed any insecurities you had.
you let out a sigh, seemingly signalling the end to your anger because he begins speaking again. “i know what it looks like, i do. but it’s not like that and i don’t know how else to explain that to you, i think you just need to grow up and understand that i can have girl friends while you’re my girlfriend”
nope. no fucking way.
“i think you need to grow up and realize that you’re dumbass just lost any chance you had at saving this relationship, have fun with rachel” you turn away immediately, slamming his door behind yourself before he can’t even chase you down.
the walk up is uncomfortable, both of Chris brothers splayed out on the living room couch, ready to begin filming a funny car video while you’re walking up the stairs with a red, tear covered face.
they both look to you with sadness, and seemingly an understanding of your position, but their mouths remain closed as you quickly put your shoes on and walk out the door.
————————————————————————
it’s been a week.
you wish you could say you were doing amazing, ridding yourself of a toxic boyfriend and focusing on your own mental health but that was… far from the truth.
but instead you’re crying while watching 10 things i hate about you and eating ramen—not exactly the best way to show you’re the bigger person.
it’s pathetic. scrolling on instagram to constantly check what Chris is doing while you simultaneously have unfollowed him.
relationships are not easy, but deep down you know you’re in the right, you just wanted Chris back… before he met another girl.
you don’t know what made his priorities change. maybe that’s what hurt you the most.
what is it that made you unlovable, what is it that rachel did better than you.
no. you know this isn’t about some girl named rachel, you know this all stems from yourself.
the constant comparisons you made to any girl you deemed better than you, the way it never failed to make you feel terrible about the cards you were dealt.
it was hard enough to except the fact that Chris liked you to begin with, and on one of your many late night walks you had told him that, told him that sometimes you’re lack of self confidence can get the best of you.
and for majority of your relationship he was supportive of that, supportive of you.
so once again, what changed? was it him or was it you?
you let out a heavy sigh, stirring your noodles and lifting the fork to your face when you hear a knock on the door.
it takes a second for you to even comprehend the noise, racking your brain trying to figure out what you had ordered online when you were up till two am sobbing.
either way you need to answer, so you make the embarrassing walk to the door while still wrapped in your fuzzy blanket m, as it replaces an embrace you miss.
you make it down the stairs, expecting a package to be delivered at your doorstep, instead you see him.
he’s stood there, a journal in his hand and an insane look of sorry overtaking his blue irises.
“hi” he says simply, moments before you go to slam the door in his face, his hand being the only thing stopping it from latching onto the hinges. “wait, please” he’s fighting back tears of his own, not that you feel bad for him in the slightest.
“what do you want Chris? i have a romantic comedy to attend to since my life kinda lacks one right now” you say with an ounce of pettiness escaping your teeth.
“y/n please” he squeezes the book in his hand, clutching to it like his life depends on it. “can i come in?”
part of you wants to say no, most of you wants to say no, but he’s Chris, your Chris, and you hate seeing him sad regardless of how much he deserves it. “fine make it quick” you mumble, opening the door fully and walking over to plop yourself on the couch, the boy awkwardly following behind you, as if he is literally walking on eggshells.
he sits beside you, not getting to comfortable as your unwelcoming demeanour leaves him anxious next to you. “i uh” he coughs, sniffling his noise and shaking his mess of hair to the side. “i don’t want you to ever think i’d choose someone else over you, ever. because i couldn’t, i-“ he sighs, as you sit there at stare at him, unsure of how to feel. “i can’t imagine being with anyone else because i see a forever with you”
“did you tell this to rachel too?” your mouth speaks before your conscience can stop yourself.
“no obviously not i mean, i don’t even know what i was doing with her, it was dumb and i don’t even have an excuse for it but i never” he breathes. “i never wanted anything with her, it’s always gonna be you”
it’s silent for a second, you processing his words and him praying mentally you’ll give him another chance. “what’s with the book?” you ask, slightly less anger backing your tone as you gesture to the journal placed in his lap.
“are you gonna promise to not make fun of me?” he says, an innocent look plastered on his face, god you missed his face.
“i can’t promise anything but ill try” you say, smiling out of the fake frown you displayed for him.
he scratches his head. “Matt kinda told me to start journaling a while ago and i thought it was stupid but then when i met you i kinda had too many thoughts to keep in my brain and-“
you place a gentle hand on his bouncing knee. “take your time Chris it’s okay”
he could cry at the contact but he continues speaking, slower this time as per your request. “i needed to write down the overwhelming thoughts i was having about you because im so in love with you i can’t keep it to myself” he sighs. “but i want you to have this because it shows how perfect you are. i never want you to feel lesser than anyone else because to me you’re everything, and im sorry i lost track of that”
you could cry at his gesture alone but instead you lean in, closing the space between the two of you and returning to a pair of lips you’ve been craving for the past week.
he kisses back hesitantly, caught off guard by your sudden act of affection.
the rhythm at which your lips move has you in a trance, beginning as an innocent kiss and immediately becoming more passionate when your tongue explores his mouth, your teeth biting gently on his bottom lip as you pull off. “i missed you”
he smiles, the same dorky smile you missed creating on his lips. “can i make it up to you?” he asks, leaving you confused.
“you already did make it up to me” you say, his head dipping down to your neck before you get a chance to keep speaking, a soft whimper leaving your mouth instead. “oh”
he’s comfortable on your neck, his hands immediately taking the blanket off of your shoulders as he moves himself to hover of you, his knees digging into the rug on the floor. “wanna really make it up to you”
it’s hard for you to speak, his hands cupping your clothed chest giving them a light squeeze before you can say another word, his lips now placed softly on your own.
for a while you’re comfortable like this, but you need more—and by the way you squeeze your thighs together on the cushion, Chris can tell.
his fingers go to lift your sweater off, immediately exposing you to him. “you’re so beautiful” he mumbles, his mouth nod focusing on your nipples as you arch your back into the couch—his tongue swirling your bud and his hands rubs soft lines on your legs.
“missed you so much baby” he’s says quietly, his mouth now placing teasing kisses on your exposed stomach, causing you to inhale at the soft sensation.
his hands now tug at your sweats, a familiar set of eyes looking up at you to ask for permission, all you can mutter out is a quick. “please”
“yeah? you miss my mouth?” he says, causing you to roll your eyes before his hands pull down your sweats and your underwear at the same time, one swift motion leaving you on display for the boy below you.
he kisses your thighs while hands hands work to remove the fabric off of your ankles and it’s safe to say you’re getting impatient, your legs spreading above him the moment the fabric is done restricting you.
“aren’t you just needy” he chuckles, his hands traveling up your sides to make contact with your chest once more. “can i take my time?”
you nod, fighting back a moan as you feel his hot breath over your folds, teasing his entrance.
but instead of giving you what you’re practically begging for he take his hands and props your legs on the couch. “god i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this”
“then get to it” you joke, only receiving a delicate kiss to your inner thigh as a response.
your own hands immediately make their way to his hair, pushing away the strands that cover his face so you can see more of him.
he makes eye contact with you, kissing everywhere on your lower half expect where you’re aching for him. “chris i need-“
there it is.
he kisses your clit, eyes making contact with your own that you could melt under, his innocent gaze as he makes you feel everything but innocent.
it’s unfortunate how much he loves teasing you, especially with make up sex, because his tongue has yet to make contact with you.
“so prefect, just for me” he continues mumbling praises as his hands roam your body.
before you can argue you’re cut off by the contact you were craving, his tongue immediately encapsulating your clit into his mouth and twirling it in slow, sensual circles.
your knees threaten to cave in at the contact but his hands are quick to push them back out as he leaves open mouthed kisses on yourself as you squirm above him.
soon enough the muscle finds a rhythm to follow, flicking up and down at a more intense pace than before. “fuck Chris, so good” you moan out.
your eyes shut almost immediately, the feeling of his warm tongue causing an embarrassingly fast build up in your stomach. “mmm just like that”
you can feel his smile below you, but his tongue doesn’t let up, instead, he places a familiar finger in your soaked centre.
instinctively you arch into him, your body chasing the pleasure that is consistently building throughout your body.
the pace at which he’s moving is addicting, and with the addition of another finger curling into you, you’re a moaning mess.
the tips of his fingers reaching deep inside of you along with the pressure and speed at which is tongue glides on your clit is overwhelming. “baby im” you whimper again. “so close just for you”
that sentence alone was enough to have him speed up, increasing the intensity of his fingers and his tongue.
your hips rut into his face, his one hand still pushing your knee to keep you spread for him.
he doesn’t let out once, your mouth left in an o shape as the pleasure overtakes you, your stomach tensing into his touch as you release onto his fingers.
he pulls his fingers out, his mouth meeting your neck while the pads of his fingers rub your wet clit at a speed that has you dizzy, your legs shutting over his hand as he rocks you through your orgasam. “just like that there you go pretty girl, just for me” he mumbles, mindlessly sucking on your bare neck.
his hands stop when your own arms clutch onto him, signalling the sensitive became too much. “i love you so much and i’m so fucking sorry” you’re too out of breath to reply. “let’s get you cleaned up baby i wanna take you on a date”
a/n: i wrote this so fast bc i gotta go to work and i didn’t proofread (are we surprised) but yeah ily bye
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @sturniolho @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @lovelottos
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tusks-and-claws · 11 months
Text
I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)
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Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary:  “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”
You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character
Wordcount: 3.5k
Find on Ao3 here :3
"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed. 
"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach. 
"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."
As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.
You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.
But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing. 
"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked. 
You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave." 
You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."
You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"
He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"
You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-
"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."
You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed. 
But you knew what he needed to hear. 
"Douchebag," you repeated. 
He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you. 
"...Douchebag."
"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own." 
You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft. 
"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again. 
You nodded.
"I need to hear you say it."
"G-got it." 
"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."
You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."
"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping." 
His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you. 
He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"
No, you thought, I want us to be something different. 
Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you? 
He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"
"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.
"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens. 
Oh no.
You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.
He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"
Fuck.
"What, uh… what do you-"
"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."
You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun. 
What was happening, what were you doing?
"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.
You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully. 
"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"
After a pause, you nodded too.
"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.
"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."
"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"
You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you. 
"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you. 
He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag." 
"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform. 
“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”
You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”
You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”
He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you. 
When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"
Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."
"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-
You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you. 
"You taste even better than you smell, amor." 
Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be. 
"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." 
You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair. 
You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?
Oh.
…He couldn't be serious. 
But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride. 
"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.
He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"
"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?
"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"
You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression. 
"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."
"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.
"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact. 
"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."
"Tell me when you're going to cum."
"Yes, yes I will." 
He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second. 
Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-" 
Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised. 
"Wha- what?" 
He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."
Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release. 
"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate. 
He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.
"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying. 
"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.
"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again. 
He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you. 
You nodded your head, answering his question. 
"So, tell me what you want." 
"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."
"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely." 
He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist. 
"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good." 
"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.
He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."
You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."
Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"
"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.  
"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it." 
As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat. 
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.
“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.
“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?
Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.
"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.” 
You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking. 
“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”
“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking. 
He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath. 
You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”
“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated. 
He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it. 
He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet. 
“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”
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