#☆⋆｡𖦹 adam
Note
Hi, I saw your posts and I liked them, so I thought I'll make a request, Adam x fem Reader smut, Adam fucks Lucifer's wife so he can get revenge on Lucifer and Lucifer ends up finding out
OOOOOOO spicy spicy. lemme see what i can do >:)
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
revenge is sweet
adam/lucifer’s demon wife f!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw BE WARNED OOOHOHOOO
nsfw part two with lucifer !!
As you lie in bed you couldn’t help but realize how distant your husband has truly been these last few months.
Never really answering your calls, waking up in the morning with him not laying beside you, hardly ever going on dates or just spending quality time together, and more importantly you’ve haven’t had sex in a hot minute.
It was all just adding up over the course of time and you didn’t want to seem like you weren’t being understanding to his needs since he was the overlord of hell after all and there were many times he was needed to help Charlie with the hotel, but you needed your fair share of attention too.
In which you weren’t getting at all this very moment.
Thrashing around in your bed you start to get fed up with these pointless thoughts making you finally sit up rather annoyed. Not helping the fact that your eyes immediately gravitate to your phone snatching it off the dresser to see if he’s even bothered messaging you, not one peep.
Grumbling you jump out of bed as you stomped your way into your closet to put something sexy on to wear out. Dressing yourself in a short black dress that fit nicely around the waist, fishnets underneath and some boots to match. This was usually something you’d wear before you met Luci, but now was not the time to dwell on old things as you looked at yourself in the mirror watching your pointed tail thrash behind you feeling very pleased with yourself and outfit.
Not shortly after you were out the door and walking down the streets of Hell looking for anything to fuck up or a place to drown your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle with this new found energy in you. Then bingo you finally approach it….a flashy new night club that must’ve just opened about a week ago. Seeming to be a little too close to the outskirts of heaven for your comfort, but you tried to not pay it much mind as the neon lights were calling your name.
Once you walk in the whole place is alive and packed. Music is blaring and dancers are dancing, everyone’s having the time of their lives, but you couldn’t shake this weird feeling as you noticed what looked like angels dressed in revealing clothing taking demons back to the establishments private rooms. This had to be some sick joke you just happened to walk in on that you wanted absolutely no part of.Quickly putting your hood on to conceal some of your identity in hopes to go unnoticed by anyone around since you were the overlords second wife after all and would hate to have something like this get back to him.
Strolling up to the bar you order the strongest drink they got, downing it within seconds before you were given another one and downing that one too, impressing some of the patrons sat beside you who looked they had measly drinks compare to yours. 
You softly chuckle to yourself before looking off at one of the dancers getting money thrown at them lost in thought, that you quickly got snapped out of when the doors of the club were snatched open and as if a large flashlight was shinned inside the dimly lit club revealing all of its nasty secrets, none other than the purest of pure himself, Adam, had strolled in.
“Oh shit…” you grimace knowing damn well if he saw you he’d make your life a living hell as if you weren’t already living in it. As you try to scoot away to a more inconspicuous spot in the club away from the utter chaos commencing and raunchy comments you feel a shameful tug at the end of your tail making your body freeze instantaneously.
“Well well well…why look at what we have here~” his voice having a more sinful touch to it as he started reeling you in closer to him by your tail till your back was pressed against his chest.
“Adam…this isn’t the time or the place…” you hiss trying to pull your tail away that he had rather a firm grip on.
“Ohhh come on my nasty little vixen…you know we have history that runs DEEP…if you know what i mean~” the annoying slickness in his voice was surprisingly making your thighs quiver as he playfully thrusted against your behind after implying the ‘deep’ past you two shared. Your mind was scrabbling with both the booze and his words mixing in making it hard for you to even think straight though the feeling deep in your core was enough to make your emotions quite clear.
“T-that was a long time ago…i-i’m changed now~” Not controlling the stammer in your voice as he tugs down your hood revealing your demon like features as you hurriedly try to pull the hood back up letting Adam get a glimpse of your wedding ring.
He scoffs as a more pissed off look contorted on his face grabbing your hand now roughly taking a look at the big diamond decorating your ring finger. “Don’t tell me you married that fucking loser..”
You flinched as he mentioned him, knowing better than anyone about their long and ongoing rivalry as you just so happened to be one of the main factors of it.
Being one of Adam’s number one girls and then getting the boot not shortly after and to have Lucifer pick up all the pieces was bringing too many feelings back that you just tried to get rid of and now they were knocking down your door once more.
“So, what if i did…it’s not like you ever had the balls” you taunt snatching your hand back.
“Oh honey i have the balls…and the dick…it’s just your choice if you want ether one of them~”
It took everything in your power right then in there not to slap him with that now smug look playing back on his face. “You’re still so insufferable”
“Just the way you like it sweet cheeks~”
“Please don’t call me that” You huff facing away from him and towards the bar once more as you then feel the pressure of his hard-on against your ass.
“C’mon i’m just having a little fun….and i think someone else wants to too~” He mutters huskily amongst your ear so only the two of you could hear as he embarrassingly started rocking his hips against your ass.
You turn hastily as you begin pushing him towards one of the private rooms, getting suspicious looks from club goers as you then slam the door locking it.
“What the fuck was that Adam?!” You shout with your horns growing and tail thrashing rather quickly.
He shrugs trying to act harmless now as if he wasn’t just dry humping you infront all those people.
“It got us alone didn’t it?” a smirk forming on his lips as he walks over to you looking down with a hint of mischief in his eye that always made you melt on the spot like it was doing right now.
Your morals wanting to play a big role so badly in this situation but something inside you didn���t want to stop as he let his fingers tease off your jacket making it fall to the ground with a thud.
Breath hitching as he pulls you closer, lips just a few tantalizing inches apart as he looks down at them and then back at you before whispering, “I’m gonna fuck you like he never could.”
Then his lips were hungrily on you in a messy tongue kiss, mouths clashing together as his hands found their way to your ass giving it a nice squeeze before turning the two of you around and making your way to the bed.
The backs of your knees catching the end of it causing you to fall back with him falling on top of you never breaking the kiss as you start to undo his robe letting your delicate fingers playfully rub against his skin making him shiver before the robe was completely discarded with much haste.
Along with your dress not far after but he kept your fishnets on seeing your panties through them seemed to be doing something for him as he broke the kiss cursing under his breath as he turned you around with your ass poking up.
“Such a fucking slut aren’t you?”
He sends a nice slap against your ass causing a mewl to escape your lips in response as a red hand print started to form along your precious skin.
Not being able to pull his gaze away from the sight as he sent another slap against your ass watching you grip the sheets infront of you as your tail flicked up and against his chest with another mewl coming from you. He chuckled lowly to himself noticing the wet patch starting to form along your panties all by chest spanking your ass like he was.
“You’re such a nasty girl aren’t you, getting spanked by someone who isn’t your husband~” he asks again stroking his own ego though it just turned you on more, he suddenly ripped open your fishnets along with your panties with such sudden strength making you gasp as the coolness of the air hit your exposed wetness.
He gently stroked two digits along your sweet folds smearing the slick along them as it causes you bits of pleasure making your tail wrap around his wrist to keep him going.
Though his fingers went away once you did making you pout as he then suddenly wrapped a hand around your tail raising your ass somewhat in the air as he slapped it with the other once again.
“That’s a bad girl…using your tail to make me go faster~” he tuts watching as you wither underneath him as you were helpless with your tail in his grasp like this.
“m- sorry~” you say softly almost pleadingly with your need so obviously infront of him.
“Atta girl baby…saying sorry to the one who really owns you~” he senses your urgency and he can practically see the drip of your pussy infront of him making his dick twitch in the confines of his boxers.
A low growl comes from him behind you as he continues to keep a strong hold on your tail as the point flicks in his fist and quickly pulls out his dick without wasting time to position himself at your entrance as pushes himself inside you not giving you a moment to adjust as he bottoms out.
Whining uncomfortably at his size as he starts to set a slow and deliberate pace, savoring the sensation of your tight body enveloping him.
“Shhhh you can take it~” he encourages as he leans down capturing one of your horns in his other hand pulling you back to kiss along your neck as he arched your back for you with his hold. The angle was hitting a certain spot inside of you it was making it more pleasurable to the point you were seeing stars as he then increased his pace. His thrusts becoming more possessive and greedy in his attempts to claim you from that bastard.
Your moans were confirming this making his thrusts quicken in pace just to hear every one of those noises come out of you. Making you get closer to your release already, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer ether as he pushed as many out as he could before you were clamping down on him.
A loud cry rippling out of your throat as your body spasmed against him as the ecstasy fueled your veins. “That’s it….cum for me…know who owns this pussy~”
Feeling the intoxicating tightness of your walls milking his cock and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his own body, Adam couldn’t take it any longer to hold back and with his own loud groan, he releases himself inside you, filling you up nicely with his warmth.
He didn't care if he came inside of you, he wanted him to know exactly who marked his territory here and who rightfully owned you no matter the marital status. 
Adam falls beside you laying on his back with his hands behind his head, quite happy with himself as you crawl up to cuddle against him.
As you lay there for a moment against Adam’s chest catching your breath you hear a foreign noise of buzzing coming from next to you repeatedly.
Looking down at your phone to your surprise to see almost 50+ miss calls and texts from Lucifer.
You curse under your breath as you pick all your things up and hurriedly put your clothes back on. Managing to struggle putting your dress back on almost tripping and falling all the while Adam watches you from the bed with the covers only covering his bottom half as he was laid out like he wanted to be painted like a french girl with a shit-eating grin plastered along his face.
“Awww does the big man want you back already?”
Scuffing as you didn’t really want to hear any more of his smartass mouth you left heading back to you and Lucifer’s home.
——————
Later that night you feel the warmth spread in your cheeks as you did your best to avoid eye contact with your husband as he was pacing in your shared bedroom wondering where the hell you’ve been and babbling on and on about how he’s been worried sick, until you blurted out about your whereabouts.
Immediately regretting it as the words slipped from your mouth.
“HE DID WHAT?!”
Rubbing the back of your arm sheepishly as you stood there watching Lucifer’s eyes turn red as his demon form became more prominent, teeth snarling as he came closer to you. “Well….hehe…we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we my love?” danger laced in his voice as he closed the space between you two.
“oh i’m fucked.”
#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings#☆⋆｡𖦹 adam#☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin imagine#smut#hazbin hotel adam smut#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam#adam smut#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin
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(:̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:❀:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)
#yin yaps ₊˚. 𖦹.♡︎🪼#okay so. i had a dream. about beomgyu. adn this is the firstt ime ive dreamt of an idol#and he was like in my class (pcb psych beomgyu for my desis) and he was the new kid and 2 of my bsfs were sitting right in front of him whi#which was PERFECT for me bc i couldve sat next to him all casual like oh hi my friends r sitting in front of u so if no ones here could i t#take the seat ^-^#and hed have said yes bc he looked like the loser lover era emo beomgyu and idk i js feel like he wouldve#but then my “bsfs” BETRYARED ME and were like lowkey bullying him like oh yk she wants to sit here so u CANT sit here#LIKE GIRLS GIRLS THERES 2 SEATS IDM SITTING W HIM but they were so adamant on him moving they bullied him out of the seat#on his first day too#and wow okay writing that out didnt make me feel any less delulu#anyw heres to manifesting hot new person in my new class PLEASE bc none of my friends are in my section apparently bc stupid streams exist#⋆ ˚ ꩜ bbg : [choi beomgyu] !🥞
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna
pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader
summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.
warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!
i.
“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“
You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly.
“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”
You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough.
The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours.
The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters.
“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“
“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.
Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”
The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood.
You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was.
His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross.
It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt.
You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out.
You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all.
He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same.
You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines.
You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head.
The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.”
You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers.
Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door.
“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care.
You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.
Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky.
His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself.
“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be.
“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”
You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in.
Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene.
Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.
However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago.
You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned.
“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”
You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.
His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?”
You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.”
With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now.
His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.
Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing.
He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?”
You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”
“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly.
You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself.
Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”
“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”
You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”
You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly.
So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.
This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“
Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity.
“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity.
“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features.
You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity.
His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script.
You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”
Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right.
Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.
“What are you—“
“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”
You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.
But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of.
All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?
Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.
When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth.
However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly.
“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”
His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”
“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”
He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”
“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side.
“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.
“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch.
He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.”
Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound.
“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.
He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.
“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”
You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction.
“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.”
He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.
You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides.
You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant.
“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”
You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you.
“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”
You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants.
He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.
You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes.
You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked.
“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”
You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch.
“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.
“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily.
You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan.
You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”
With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible.
Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock.
“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered.
“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding.
“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words.
You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background.
Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian.
His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure.
The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt.
“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”
He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace.
With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear.
When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy.
“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”
“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind.
After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity.
He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes.
You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?”
He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.”
“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly.
He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.
You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”
Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips.
“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light.
His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”
ii.
“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?
However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was.
Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.
The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly. “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.”
You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events.
As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”
#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy rpf#cillian murphy x reader smut
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Keep your glasses on
.⋅ ୨୧⋅.────────────────────
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Bonten!Rindou Haitani X fem!reader
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Rindou fucks you in a fitting room and makes you watch yourself become cock drunk for him.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ cw: public sex, cream pie
21+ nsfw smut, Minors DNI
You don’t really know how you ended up in this situation. From what started as a little light shopping with your boyfriend, to being pressed up against the wall in a tiny fitting room with Rindou pounding your sore pussy.
He simply couldn’t resist the temptations after seeing you twirl around in that outfit.
The way that blouse loosely hung on your figure, revealing just enough to make him want more, and how he was able to get a peek at your white panties as you twirled around in that mini skirt.
He spared no time in getting you back into that fitting room and up against the wall.
“Rin- ah.. ngh k-keep the noise down p-please.”
You begged in between sweet whimpers and moans that only drives him to go harder.
A tiny yelp was let out of your mouth as you felt him reach deeper into you, parts of you that no one has ever touched.
“God..you’re so fucking hot.”
He whispers sweet nothings into your ears and follows that by peppering a trail of kisses that leads from your lips, down to your neck and soon your chest.
His grip on your ass tightens, you felt his finger nails dig into your flesh as he forcefully bounces you on his hard cock.
Your hand reaches up to cover your mouth from attracting any attention to your lustrous activities, and your hair becoming more of a mess each time you go down on his hard member.
You felt your glasses slide down the bridge of your nose with every movement. He was just going so hard on you.
Rindou noticed and pushes your frames up your nose and grabbed your face gently, bringing it close to his.
“Keep them on baby. I want you to see all of this.”
Your lips were then met with his as he roughly invaded your mouth with his tongue, tasting every part of you and leaving nothing untouched.
Your hot make out session was cut short when he suddenly pulled out of you and swiftly turned you over with your back pressing up against his firm chest.
A calloused hand caressing your butt up to your boobs while another holds your waist in place to align his hard dick to your entrance.
Before he entered you fully he pulled you over to the mirror and held your rose tinted face by the jaw.
“I don’t want you to miss any of this. Watch and admire what a work of art you are baby.”
Leaving you no time to prepare, he slid into you all the way to his base, watching your face scrunch up in ecstasy.
He groans quietly with sweat dripping down the side of his temples and to his neck. He loved the view so much he could almost cum on the spot.
You felt him tug on your hair gently, pulling your head that was hung low up to see the mess that he made you.
Bra strap slipping off your shoulder, shirt barely buttoned and tits bouncing back and forth violently as he abused your pussy.
The sight of it turned you on beyond imagination. You loved how he could turn you into a moaning horny mess with just a snap of a finger.
Your walls clenched around his cock as you felt a knot in your stomach tighten. He was hitting all the right spots that made you see stars.
“R-rin I’m almost- ah.”
You don’t even have to say it, he knows your close by the feeling of your pussy tightening around him.
Leaning down to whisper in your ear, he keeps a firm grip on your waist and slides another two fingers down to play with your sensitive bud.
“I know baby, cum with me okay beautiful?”
The sudden sensation of your clit between his fingers sent you over the edge.
You shook uncontrollably as you released all your juices over his cock, legs trembling and glasses once again hanging on by the thread on the tip of your nose.
Rindou didn’t stop there. He was adamant on cumming too.
Not caring about how sensitive your cunt was, he continued to pound even harder into you, forcing you to let out those soft sweet whimpers that were just music to his ears.
Reaching his own high, he softly moans into your ear as he filled you full with his thick, warm cum. Hand now on your jaw to once again hold your head up and witness the aftermath.
Sweat now covering both of you, he kissed your cheek lightly and pulled out slowly, letting his hard work drip down between your puffy pussy lips and onto the floor.
Seeing the hot mess that was made, you guys made eye contact and he shrugged nonchalantly at you.
“We definitely have to buy that outfit now.”
#anime#rindou haitani#rindou x reader#rindou smut#tr rindou#tokyo revengers rindou#rindou x you#bonten rindou#rindou headcanons#tokrev rindou#tokyo revengers#manga#smut#tokyo revenger smut
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Ryomen Sukuna x Reader (Medieval AU)(Shameless smut)
𖦹 Warning tags: Royal guard!Sukuna x Spoiled Princess!Reader, rough sex, shameless smut, dominance, glorious orgasms, creampie, jealousy, breeding, explicit sexual consent, sexual tension, obsession, possessive behavior, shameless flirting, unprotected sex, breeding kink, marking, mention of violence, brat tamer!Sukuna, masturbation, hair pulling, scratching, consensual somnophilia blowjobs, Sukuna being a dick but also being immeasurable adorable and sick in love with reader.
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"You're close, my princess... I can feel it." Ryomen growled against your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin divinely. "Let go, little one, don't hold back."
He advised, gritting his teeth as you tilted your head, and your lips kissed his adam's apple with such fervor that he almost creamed his breeches in the spot. You were such a maddeningly teasing creature that made his whole body feel sweat like a young virgin instead of a fierce knight.
Afraid of his own urges as he refused to break you, he pinched your clit, and you screamed euphorically as that white numbness clouded your every thought as you came, loud and heavy.
Legs stretching and contracting, tightening around his fingers as you came hard. He cursed and dipped his head low when felt you go rigid above him, panting through the ridiculously good pressure on his mere digits, you were adorable.
Your body jerked and shivered in any way it could, anything to expel the white-hot pleasure that shot up your spine. Panting and heaving greedy gulps of air into your screaming lungs while you tasted properly every bit of this mind-blowing orgasm orchestrated by your Royal knight fingers alone.
“Princess?” he called carefully when felt you stop moving, bouncing you a little too impatiently in his lap to jar you back to awareness. You squirmed vaguely but apart from that, nothing.
“(Y/N)-” he went on, your body languid and slouched against him as he noticed you had fainted. "Just my luck," he snarled frustrated. His cock twitching miserably against you, desperate for release and so far away from getting it.
“This is even more frustrating than guarding her door.” He chuckled lamely, smacking a greedy kiss to your sweaty cheek. The least you could do for his effort was letting him hold you through the whole night. That was an equally worthy price, or at least, he forced himself to believe.
Not even his dreams put him at ease, images filled with you, his adoration, his princess and who he bow himself to, invaded him to the point of desperation, every pore of his skin sweated and burned almost feverishly, his body writhed under a special type of pleasure.
Sukuna's eyes suddenly popped open and once got used to the darkness, he noticed his torturer: You, his adored and shy princess, indiscriminately sucking his cock.
So focused on your task that you didn't even notice that he had woken up. Your small mouth licked, sucked and immersed as much of his massive cock as could, licking the tip and sucking it as if it were your favorite dessert, tracing his shaft up and down with your mouth wide open to taste him better, using warm hands to jerk him as you sucked his balls into your pristine mouth, all this glory happening with the sweet chorus of your moans and purrs, as if you were enjoying every ridge, every bump, every vein that your eager, fledgling tongue memorized.
"Stop-"
The knight asked in a voice too guttural to be his, and your hand slowed down but did not completely halt.
"Am I doing it wrong, Sir Ryomen?" you asked with innocent casualness, disappointment flooding your features and he was quick to correct.
"I don't want to come yet-" he instructed in a pant, "...I want to come inside you, my princess."
Your breath caught in your lungs when without asking permission he climbed on top of you, readying to breed you, readying to claim your womb as his property, his thick cock pulsated against your thigh and before you knew it.....
READ THE WHOLE STORY IN MY PATREON LINK (here you will also find NSFW art of this story) .... Plus, more stories of JJK and other anime, each with a NSFW illustration from a scene of the story, PLUS! 'Spicy Foreplay tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for future stories, couple pairing selection and kinky mood selection for the story and images, and my eternal gratitude for your support!!!
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#artists on tumblr#jjk smut#fanfic#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x oc#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna imagine#jjk sukuna#ryomen x reader#ryomen smut#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen#sukuna jjk#reader insert#reader imagine#medieval#alternate universe#smut#drabble#sukuna fanart#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk x reader
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Summary: after talking to Regulus, you both decide to take the offer to stay with the Potters, and barty gets thrown across the slytherin table by Evan
Pt1
A/n: very focused on Reg for some reason, not 100% sure why, but it's lovely, also we love bestie barty. ALSO ALSO, reader is aggressively, very aggressively, hinted to be slytherin
Poly!moonwater x reader (Remus lupin x regulus black x reader) | 1.4k words
Tw: toxic family, running away? Family disappointment, ect. Barty jinxing Gryffindors for sport and an owl flying into a chess game
Asked to be tagged: @misacc08
★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊
It's finally two weeks until the end of this year at Hogwarts. Class times have been filled with going over study guides and reviewing for the final exams only a few days away.
Neither you nor Regulus have said yes to staying at Potter Manor this summer. Despite James being very adamant about it.
“I’ll just mention you blokes might be joining us.” James told you when you visited Gryffindor table one morning, as he wrote his parents.
“James-”
“No, no, let ‘im. No harm in it? Is there?” Sirius cuts you off, feet extended to rest on the bench across the table from him.
“But Mrs. Potter shouldn’t prepare an extra room if neither of us will be joining.” Your points are acknowledged when James hums to confirm he heard you, but his quill never stops moving.
Remus has been looking at you the whole time. Not in a creepy way, you're both pretty sure not in a creepy way at least. Just in an undivided attention way. Practically ignoring the other two boys to admire you, other than when he occasionally slaps away Sirius’ hand on his fifth attempt to grab Remus’ food.
You look down to where Remus sits as well. Honestly, he's not that much shorter than you sitting down, but wherever. Your hand that's not holding the strap of your bag gently scratched the hair at the base of his head before kissing his cheek, mumbling a small promise to see him during your study time later.
ᯓ★
It's not like you don’t want to go to stay with everyone else. It’d be amazing; it really would. But the idea of going when Regulus stays at the Black House feels wrong. You know being with your parents won’t help him, nor will being at James’ house, but it feels wrong.
Remembering how destroyed he was when Sirius left. When he came back to school, you two hadn’t known the Marauders like you do now. The anger he knew was misplaced, but he couldn’t help but feel abandoned by Sirius. You remember it—the crying, the way he couldn’t focus until a month into school. And you remember Sirius being disowned.
And maybe that's part of it too. The idea of being disowned. Even if you know they are horrible people, people you don’t wish to be related to. The idea still makes you sick. Their horrible and evil, but dear Salazar, parent approval is so addicting and you hate how much you still want it.
So which is worse, feeling like you betrayed one of your boyfriends, or your parents disapproval?
“Regulus?” You keep your voice low in the library. The aforementioned boy looks up from his textbook sitting across from you. Remus, next to you, pauses, moving his quill to focus on you two as well.
“Yes?” His voice matches yours, despite being a little more stiff.
“I wanna talk about it again. About James’ house.” You rush the words out. Probably because you know Regulus will want to shoot it down immediately.
“Love, you know I’m not going.” He sighs, sitting up straight in his seat.
“Why? Why not go?”
"Dove-" Remus tries to interject, not sure how well direct confrontation will go after Regulus has already denied it far too many times.
“What would I do?”
Both you and Remus pause, looking right at Regulus. Who stares right back at you.
“What do you mean?’ Remus says what you think.
“I leave, I get disowned, I lose the family fortune.” There are unspoken words there; everyone knows. He loses the Black name, he loses the reputation, and he loses everything he ever knew. Sirius had always wanted to leave; he had dreamed about it long before the possibility ever even crossed Regulus’ mind. The older Black had an idea of what would happen long before he left. Regulus hasn't gotten that right.
“We can figure it out when we get there, love.” Remus rests his quill in the small ink pot, reaching both his hands to cup Regulus’ hands between his own.
All three of you stay silent for a second, Regulus looking down at Remus’ hand covering his own, you staring at Regulus, and Remus looking between the two of you, trying to figure out what to do.
"If..." you sigh, shifting in your seat, “if... you go... I’ll go, and we can figure it out together.”
Gray eyes shoot up to yours. “Are you serious?” His voice is unsure, like you're going to take your offer back for no apparent reason.
“Yeah. I’m scared too, but I don't think I can bring myself to go back, not this time. But at the same time, I won’t be okay with going if you don’t go.”
Remus takes a deep breath, one hand still holding the younger boy's hand, other moving so his arm wraps around your shoulder, gently rubbing your upper arm. “So, it's settled. I can tell James.”
“Thank you,” You whisper, and Regulus takes one of his hands from the lycan to intertwine your fingers.
ᯓ★
The letter felt wrong to write. Less than a week before you're off to Potter Manor is when you get a response.
You're sitting at the Slytherin table in the morning when the letter holding their response arrives. Your owl landing smoothly, unlike the poor Hufflepuff owl you see sly head first into a game of Wizard Chess.
The seal of the letter belongs to your family, and it's painfully obvious. Regulus had gotten his response within a few days. Hurtful and harsh, despite never reading it yourself.
Looking around, Regulus is watching Barty, who is sitting on the long table rather than at it, cast small, mostly-hopefully harmless jinxs on a few older Gryffindors who haven't seemed to notice who's doing it. While Evan is whispering more and more jinxs for Barty to use.
Deciding that you might as well get it over with, you break the wax seal. The letter was nothing but vile, as you expected, the threats, the anger, the disappointment. Yet, you are honestly relieved. Like a huge, bolder is off your back. Sisyphus would envy you.
"And what do you have? A secret admirer? Are you planning on finally leaving the wild beasts you call boyfriends?"
Barty turns his attention to you as you finish reading, snatching the letter to inspect it.
"Ew, is that from your parents?" Evans nose scrunches up, noticing the names signed at the bottom of the parchment when he leans over Bartys shoulder.
"Yeah, I wrote them last week that I'd be staying with the Potters this summer, and they finally got back to me." Your voice remains surprisingly even, despite feeling somewhere between calm and like you're going to vomit, cry, and punch a wall.
Evan and Barty continue to scrutinize the letter, the phrasing, and how your mother writes the letter S weird. While Regulus leans closer to you.
"Everything okay?" His quite, a stark contrast two the boys sitting acorsd from you as Barty pushes his boyfriend off the seat for something or another and Evan kicks a little too close to Bartys dick.
"Yeah, it'll be okay." You hum, scooting closer to the pale boy, "would you and Remus want to come stay at my dorm tonight? At least for a little? Serenella and Iris are both going to be out all night."
"Of course, love. I'll grab Remus after charms and we can meet you there before dinner?" A soft kiss is placed on the top of your head when he finishes his sentence.
"That sounds good."
The peace of the situation is cut off by Barty falling off the table towards you, taking you down to the floor with him.
"God damnit Barty!" A smile far to big for the situation paints your face face.
"Evan threw me, gem! He tried to kill me! I'm wounded." Barty sits half on hus knees, half laid out on the gross Hogwarts in such a pathetic manor Regulus chuckles under his breath.
"And I'll do it again idiot!" Evan sits back on his spot at the long table. Huffing while smoothing out his hair and uniform.
"Oh God, gem, I won't make it." Barty throws himself onto you, your back to the ground as you laugh. "If I die will you leave your loser boyfriends to join me and Evan?"
"Okay, junior, that's enough." Remus appears in your vision, slightly nudging Bartys side, like touching him too long will make whatever is sodding wrong with the boy rub off on him.
"Hello, big boy." Barty stands up and takes you with him, dusting off his and your clothes. "You know, both of you could leave Regulus and-"
"Okay Barty!" Regulus pushes Barty to sit back down, shutting him up as he begins to bicker with Regulus next.
#poly moonwater x reader#poly!moonwater x reader#poly!moonwater#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin imagine#regulus black#remus lupin x you#remus lupin#regulus black x reader#regulus black oneshot#regulus black one shot#regulus black imagine#remus lupin fluff#regulus black fluff#remus lupin angst#regulus black angst#marauders fanfiction#marauders era fic
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before i fall asleep - john constantine - oneshot
synopsis: it’s the day constantine had been ‘given treatment’ from satan himself. constantine can be very toxic, especially when you’re his lover. but, even though he doesn’t say it often at all, he loves you. he really does.
————————— .𖦹 ⋆｡
the day his case was done, his lungs became clear. his wrists were no longer slit, and physical health-wise, he was generally so much healthier than he was before. mental-health wise, not so much. like he always has been. since he was a child.
being his girl was never easy, no, not at all. but you loved him more than anything else you knew. and he loved you, although he never said it.
“john…” he turned to face you. you’d caught him finally picking up his pack of cigarettes again.
“don’t.” he scoffs at your warning.
“baby, i’ll be fine.”
“no you won’t, john. you got fucking cancer because of them.” you got up and easily snatched the one in his hand and the entire pack, and threw them out the apartment window.
“those were expensive.”
“i don’t care, john. i don’t wanna be close to losing you again.” you said, him barely able to hear it since your head was halfway through the window as it poured. he pursed his lips for a second.
————————— .𖦹 ⋆｡
he still remembers that day. the day fucking satan took stones from his lungs before john nearly ascended. the day the strong smell of sulfur and fresh air hit his lungs properly that time. how he had watched a half-breed fall, and how the sky was dark and rain fell upon him once he got out. he remembers sprinting to your apartment in the pouring rain because it was closer than his, and how his younger driver, had died because he followed him. like anyone would try to. it was always his fault.
and when he inched from your apartment door, he knocked. it was late. around midnight. but john didn’t hesitate. he never did. he was no longer afraid. and so you peeped through the eyehole and instantly pulled him by his tie inside.
“why are you so late, and why didn’t you get chas to drive you home?” you sighed as you closed the door behind him. he gulped, making his adam’s apple bob slightly.
“can i tell you this once i get washed and changed?” you pursed your lips, knowing he was soaked and you didn’t want him to spread the water across your floors. you hugged his waist from behind, because if you tried to hug him from his shoulders, you’d need to be way taller.
“of course.” you responded with your cheek flat against his back, walking to stand in front of him and stand on your tiptoes, as he leaned down slightly to kiss you softly. he quickly pulled away and walked to the bathroom, leaving you stood there with your head turned to face him. you sighed and gulped as you heard him undress, and you turned most of the lights on so you could make yourself tea, and you sat in bed shakily in the cold waiting for him.
————————— .𖦹 ⋆｡
“you know i love you.” you mumbled as you closed the window shut and went up to your cold lover who sat manspread. your wrists rested on his shoulders, as your chin did on his head. he brought his hand up to make contact with your hand, and his fingertips to wrist were icy. your muscles tensed lightly. but he still had his poker face on.
“come here, baby.” you had the slightest smile on your face. you knew he could never tell you he loved you too, because his toxic masculinity had fueled him. for years. he knew if he told you he loved you, you’d think he was soft. but he had always given you tender love, especially late at night as he watched you asleep, covered in soft blankets he’d get for you because he knows you like sleeping in his shirt, and his shirt only. it’d get his poor girl cold, although his shirts were always huge on you.
and so you straddled him in his warm lap as he buried your face in kisses, with his hands placed on both sides of your hips. afterwards, he just thought in the pure, deafening silence. like he always did. out of tiredness, your head fell into the crook of his neck as you softly smiled, burrowing yourself there. except this time, he’d whispered something to you. just loud enough so his voice would crack through his chapped lips.
“…i love you too.” tears fell from your usual late-night, puffy eyes. but you didn’t make a sound. neither did john as only a few tears fled from his eyes.
“i’m…sorry i don’t tell you it.” his voice ached. for once, john constantine had found it hard for himself to form and speak words.
“but i do…i really, really do. this once, i - i’ll tell you, i think…i think you’re the love of my life. and i love you, i love you, i love you.” your hands reached for the back of his head, the rest of your arms beneath his underarms. the words he had said rang in your head, in his voice. in the voice of the soul, you both believed, satan had waited for to rise to earth and take for himself.
“you need rest,” john had whispered to you, picking you up bridal-style easily and softly letting you down on the bed.
“not more than you do.” you pulled him in by his shirt, but you weren’t strong enough to pull him into the bed. he scoffed lightly at your attempt.
“fine, move over.” you smiled and felt your trail of tears on your soft skin begin to dry. he climbed beside you into the bed, turning the bedroom light off. you rolled into his chest, where you fell asleep most of the time. his hands caressed the back of your head until he thought you were asleep.
“i love you.” he smiled, for the first time, since a long one.
every night after on, you made sure to keep yourself awake for a few minutes when he thought you were asleep, and it turns out, maybe he does tell you he loves you quite often.
#boo’s thing#keanu reeves#keanu reeves x reader#john constantine#john constantine 2005#john constantine x reader#john constantine fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic
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CUPIDS ARROW
MASTERLIST >
Other masterlists
@viannasthings (Sorry it took me a while to make I was busy with other requests.)
Lucifer Morningstar x F! Cupid! Reader
warning. the word pornstar(s) been used a few times.
(Not proofread)
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
I was back in the courtroom the very same place where I watched Lucifer and his love fall from grace,I wish I had more time to tell him I loved him but I knew how much he loved Lilith, and as the cupid I couldn’t get in the way of their love.
But here I am back in the courtroom watching as the princess of heaven herself and her girlfriend try to explain why sinners should be redeemed, and it may seem stupid to all the other angels but to me I wanted to help, I knew about the extermination as Adam had slipped up in front of me and I truly feel bad about the mortal souls down there.
After they sang Adam opened a portal that sucked them back to hell as Emily yelled out something like she would find a way to help them, this was already a pain to me but I felt sympathy towards the princess all she wanted was to help her people but she was turned down quickly.
Arriving to my room I plop down on my bed thinking about what happened in the courtroom again, what if I went to hell myself and helped her? I got up as I scurried to my closet taking a book out opening it I turned to each and every page to look for a spell to open a portal to hell.
After finding the spell I did what it said, being blinded by the light for a second I wince as I shield my eyes before getting used to it, looking inside the portal I could see the realm of hell, stepping in I stared in awe at the red sky as the portal closed behind me the portal book in my hands.
Looking around I noticed the billboard about the Hazbin Hotel looking at it I knew where it was.
Walking in front of the hotels doors I knock three times before I hear yelling and people running around before the door flew open revealing the princess of hell her girlfriend the pornstar that was shown in the courtroom the rest I don’t know and then Lucifer.
Wait?! Lucifer?! I lock eyes with Lucifer as Charlie’s voice was incoherent to me, “ [Reader]? ” Lucifer whimpers as he pushed past his daughter to stand in front of me I looked at him with shock my mouth an agape, “ Lucifer! ” I yell out wrapping my hands around his torso “ [Reader] what are you doing here your supposed to be in heaven, unless? ” “ No no I didn’t fall from heaven I came down here myself. ” I say reassuringly before another voice chimed in.
“ HEY! You’re that girl that was in the courtroom! ” “ What’s an Angel doin’ down ‘ere anyway? ” A spider demon appearing beside Charlie, ohh the pornstar I thought in my mind.
“ Charlie everyone this is my old friend before I fell from grace. ” Lucifer introduced me to his friend and daughter as they all waved at me. “ So what are you doing where anyways? ” Lucifer tilted his head at me, “ I’m here to help Charlie in redeeming sinners. ” I smile and turn to Charlie that had stars in her eyes while jumping up and down with excitement.
“ OMG OMG!! VAGGIE!! ” Charlie then turned around to Vaggie and shook her shoulders “ AN ANGEL WANTS TO HELP US!!! ” Charlie yells with excitement while Vaggie just patted her girlfriend’s hands and kissed her forehead, “ I’m happy we’re getting help but maybe we should let the two catch up with each other. ” Vaggie smiles a bit as she turns to me and Lucifer as the other walk back to where they were earlier.
Me and Lucifer turn to each other as me begin to converse, “ So you got married to Lilith? That’s nice but where is she? ” I tilt me head out of curiosity looking down at the ring on his finger, “ Ah, me and Lilith we split. ” My eyes widened “ Oh sorry for asking I didn’t know! ” I panicked a bit before being reassured but Lucifer “ No no it’s fine really it’s was a long time ago. So what have you been doing while I was gone? ”
“ Well you know just normal cupid stuff going around the human and heavens realm making people fall in love boring things like that. ” I shrug my shoulders in response crossing my arms and sighing “ It’s honestly a pain in the ass doing it everyday on repeat. ” “ Well you sure weren’t like this when you first became cupid. ”
I scoff playfully “ Well people change I guess. “ I say shrugging my shoulder while smiling at him, man did I miss him a lot I’m glad I came down here to help Charlie.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#x reader#female reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel charlie
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My angel ♡︎
Lucifer x fem! Fallen angel! reader
Summery: Lucifer and reader have been friends since Lucifer was still in heaven but sadly separated when he fell. What happened when the two are reunited but reader has experienced something that concerns Lucifer.
!Warnings!: sexual assault , bullying, abuse, violence . Also Adam’s a dick. (If you like him I’m sorry it just felt right to the story)
A/n: hii! So this the first time I’m writing something here in a while so I hope you enjoy this! XDDD
𖦹
Freedom.
That’s what she felt when she fell.
She felt free to speak her mind and not be judged, she felt free to agree with him…Lucifer.
Although, the two shared the same dream, (y/n) decided to stay quiet since she was scared of the seraphims and was scared to also be like him, fallen.
But it changed when Lucifer’s daughter came for a meeting in heaven.
*𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌*
“Oh my goodness! It’s you!”
Charlie heard behind her right before she entered the room for the meeting in heaven. She saw an angel, who looked oddly familiar to her.
“Wait? You know me?” She asked. “Well, of course, being the daughter of the king of hell gives you quite the impression up here” the angel said while smiling but stopped when she saw the worried look on Charlie’s face.
“Oh no! Not in a bad way! Well, at least not for me, I always knew that Lucifer’s daughter will more like him.”
The younger demon sighed in relief “ oh that’s good- wait you know my dad? Like personally?” She asked.
“Oh I’m so sorry! Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself, my name is (y/n).”
‘(Y/n)… that’s right! That was dad’s best friend when he was in heaven!’ Charlie thought. “Wait- so you don’t hate him?”
Hate him? She could never hate him.
“Heavens no! He was my best friend, my only friend actually…” (y/n) said. “How is he? I heard about the divorce, it must tough for him…”
“He’s fine? I honestly don’t know… when he’s around he seems all cheery but I notice that it’s not really… sincere, you know? As if he’s trying to mask his feelings just to make others feel better.” Charlie said sadly.
(Y/n) sighed “I wish I was there to help him…”. The two stood in comfortable silence as if a mother and a daughter would. “Oh golly! Look at the time! You don’t wanna be late for the meeting, now do you?” She said while slightly pushing Charlie to the doors of the room. “I hope the meeting goes well, Charlie. I’ll see you inside” (y/n) said right before Charlie goes in.
She stood there in silence, and disappointment not at Lucifer or Charlie.
But herself that she couldn’t even be by his side at his lowest.
He still is her best friend…
… And first love…
Almost tearing up she stood in front of the door to the meeting room until…
“Heya babe, whatchu doing here?!”
Adam.
The one person she despises most.
“Are you fucking crying?! That’s hilarious! Well what are crying about hmm?” He asked with fake sympathy in his voice.
“It’s non of your business” she said.
“Yeah probably about that guy that literally fallen from heaven just to not to see your face” he said
Although she never took his words seriously, this one really hurt.
“Well you know I can satisfy you in ways that guy wouldn’t even think of” he said while putting his hand on her waist.
It got lower and lower…
“Please stop-“
“Adam” the voice of Sera the head seraphim was heard. And immediately his hand left her body. “The meeting is starting”
“Yeah right we were just going in” he said. He waited for the seraphim to go inside. When she did he didn’t hesitate but throw a punch right in the angel’s face.
“You fucking bitch! You really want sera to fucking think of me as the bad guy huh?! Well, next time it won’t be just your face you’ll have to cover” he said while going inside the room.
She sat there yet again in silence. She took out a pocket mirror that she had and some foundation.
Because it was not the first time …
* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *
When she fell felt even happy to out of there.
Until she hit the ground breaking her wings and most of the bones in her body.
She saw shades of red in the sky and was the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious
Lucifer’s pov:
I was in my office sorting some paperwork I don’t even know what it was, until I heard something crash.
Or rather someone…
I rushed outside since I can’t just leave the person alone to suffer.
The first I saw was wings. White, beautiful wings, although cover in blood since they were injured. The blood was gold that meant one thing.
It was an angel. A fallen angel.
I quickly went to check the angel’s other injuries so I turned them around only to find out…
It was (y/n)… my best friend from the beginning of time. My (y/n)… wait what was I thinking she probably met some tall hunk while I was out of heaven.
I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on helping (y/n). I took her to my room and carefully laid her on my bed.
Thankfully she was breathing and was starting to heal since angels can heal faster. (a/n: idk if it’s actually real but for the sake of the plot k go with it )
What did she do to fall? She was always so kind to everyone and was cautious not to talk too loudly about things that were forbidden by the seraphims.
What happened?
No one’s pov:
The first thing she felt when waking up was pain in her back specifically her wings.
When she opened her eyes she was confused and also scared because she didn’t recognize the room she was in. She groaned in pain while trying to get up.
“Oh no no no don’t do that, they’re still healing, you should rest” that voice.
The voice she loves oh so much. It was him.
“Lucifer?” She asked while her eyes are filling up with tears. Even though it hurt and she really shouldn’t do that, she didn’t care. She got up as fast as she could and wrapped her arms around him, crying in his chest.
Those were tears of happiness and relief that she finally got to see him again.
“Hey it’s okay, I’m here shh don’t cry” he told her in the softest tone ever as if she would break if he had spoken any louder.
“Im just- I’m so happy to see you” she said while looking up at him smiling through her tears.
“I’m really happy to see you too, sweetheart, but seriously you should rest. You still aren’t fully healed .” He said while picking her up and gently laying her down on the bed. “You know, I was really worried you wouldn’t wake up.”
“What? How long was I asleep?” She asked genuinely confused.
“It was only a couple of days, don’t worry. But my back did start to hurt because I was sleeping on the couch” wait what.
Then she realized, it was his room. And that was the way he saw her for the first time in eons, she probably looked terrible. That brought tears to her eyes yet again.
“I am so sorry, lucifer. I-I didn’t mean-“ she was cut of by her own sob while Lucifer quickly went to comfort her.
“Hey shh it’s okay. Really, I don’t care if i break my back, I just want you to feel better.” He said while holding her close to him.
Boy he really did miss this.
Eventually (y/n) calmed down and said “well I’m glad that you’re the one that found me and not some random weirdo on the street”
He laughed softly. “Yeah well I’m glad as well. Speaking of finding you, why exactly are you here?”
* 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 *
“Are you fucking kidding me?” (Y/n)’s voice was heard in the meeting room.
“(Y/n) use proper language-“ the head seraphim was cut off the angel’s enraged voice.
“I don’t give a flying FUCK about the language. But extermination of human souls just like us. What is wrong with you?!” She exclaimed.
“Ooh the nice little girl is getting feisty ” Adam said sarcastically.
“And YOU! You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. If i were to decide, you would be in hell in no time” she said to him.
“Careful or else-“
“Or else what? You will throw me to hell? To me it seems much more nicer than here. If you gonna do it, knock yourself out. Go fuck yourselves, all of you.”
* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *
“You really did that?” Lucifer asked shocked. He never thought that (y/n) can even say curse words.
“Yeahh… well now I’m here.” She said smiling at him lovingly.
Lucifer’s pov:
I’ve missed her so much. Her voice, her eyes everything about her.
God I love her…
“Wait what”
Shit. I said that out loud.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkk Lucifer calm down breathe in ,breathe out. SHIT NO how can i mess up this badly already. I mean she just got here and you’re telling her that you’re so stupid why did you do tha-
“I love you too, Lucifer”
“What.”
No one’s pov:
“I love you too, ever since you left heaven I realized that more and more everyday but I also knew I could never be with you. You were in hell and I was up there in heaven also you were with lillith-“ (y/n) was cut off by Lucifer after he calmed down from his internal panicking.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, because now you’re here with me and nobody is going to change that” he said while leaning, glancing at her lips until their lips touched.
It was something that both of them wanted for a long time and it’s finally happening.
His hand went to cup her cheek and the other one went to her waist.
But then she flinched way.
She wrapped her arms around herself, almost as if protecting herself from something.
Lucifer did know what caused this or why was this happening but he knew he had to help.
He went closer to her but not touching her to not trigger her even more. “(Y/n), my love, it’s me, it’s okay” he said trying calm her down.
She looked up at him. She was scared. But why?
When she saw it was him, she started to clam down “I’m sorry it’s just something that happened u-uhm it was-“
“Love, it’s okay you don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I will never do anything to hurt you. I love you and I mean it.” He said softly. “Darling, is it okay if I hug you?”
She nodded and was immediately wrapped in a warm hug.
She realized she was safe, with Lucifer, finally.
☆
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader
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modern!mizu headcanons
self indulgent mizu hc post because I love her so much it's insane
--- ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⭑☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ---
has to take about 7 different supplements for about everything you'd need a supplement for
she is unhealthy with sick victorian child ass 😭
science major
competent mizu ong
spends 24/7 in the gym, she is very passionate about it
she does fencing and comes top of her class because nobody else even tries against her
except taigen, who gets his ass beat
she's very tall. imo she's abt 5'8 minimum but that's just my opinion
dresses like adam sandler and renee rapp had a secret lovechild if that makes any sense
would listen to destroy boys or tyler, the creator cause she's a loser
DARE I SAY I think she'd be amazing at cooking. she is a master in the kitchen
she doesn't enjoy cooking tho because it stresses her out
oh she's pathetic she's the most pathetic dumb pathetic lesbian EVER
she sees pretty girls and falls in love instantly (me too)
tries her best to avoid parties but would get drunk out of her mind when she gets dragged to one
reads literally all the time but she reads rlly deep books like no longer human and shit
there's slight delinquency to her but it's okay cause boy is she pretty
god forbid she have a roommate. she practically fought with college + made threats just to get her own room
she got her room
addicted to coffee except she will ONLY drink it if it's made a very specific way.
she'd have a motorcycle idk I just think that's a silly thing to think about
I think modern mizu would have tattoos. nothing too extreme but she'd have a couple on her arms and chest/shoulders
she gets good grades but almost never shows up to classes. gods know how she does it 🙏
she smells of cigarettes and very expensive cologne
and a hint of self hatred
she has flirted with every girl on campus at least once but she has never been seen dating anybody
mainly because she doesn't do relationships cause she has better things to focus on, but it's partly because she's scared of hurting girls' feelings
learnt how to play electric guitar in high school and has been asked to join multiple garage bands
she has turned down every offer
no nsfw hcs for this post because im writing this late at night half asleep. might make a separate post for that soon tho !!<33
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𖦹 O pai manja!
Bambam × Leitora.
๑: Bam sendo um papai ansioso pela chegada da filhinha, fluffy.
Espero que gostem.
— Kunpimook Bhuwakul! — falou assim que entrou no quarto da futura filhinha de vocês.
— Que susto mulher! — colocou a mão do lado esquerdo do peito. — Quer me matar?
— Eu quero que você pare de mudar os móveis da Phailin de lugar. — o disse.
— Mas desse jeito fica melhor! — respondeu como se fosse o óbvio.
— Você já me disse isso três vezes hoje. — suspirou.
— O pai manja! Relaxa amor.
— Bambam... — arqueou uma sobrancelha.
— É que eu 'tô ansioso com a chegada da nossa pequena. — confessou.
— Eu sei meu amor. — chegou perto do tailandês. — Mas isso só vai te deixar mais ansioso ainda.
— Tem razão. — se deu por vencido. — Vamos assistir algo então? — pegou sua mão.
— Vamos. — andou com o mesmo até a sala, onde colocaram um filme qualquer em que Adam Sandler atuava.
Passaram-se uns vinte minutos de filme, e Bambam parecia mais inquieto que antes.
— Bambam. — chamou a atenção do mais alto.
— Desculpa meu bem, mas eu 'tô muito ansioso. — deu risada.
— Coloca a mão aqui. — pegou as mãos do tailandês e as colocou em sua barriga, fazendo o maior sentir a movimentação da pequena Phailin.
— Ela mexeu! — falou feliz.
— Ela também está ansiosa pra' vir ao mundo, ela é muito agitada, que nem você. — riu.
— O papai ama você meu amor! — beijou sua barriga. — Espero que você seja linda como eu.
— Ah pronto. — riu. — Ela vai ser linda que nem a mamãe dela.
— Não duvido. — te beijou.
— Amo você Bam. — sorriu.
— Eu também amo você minha vida.
#97'liners como papais!#97 line#bambam#got7 bambam#got7#bambam x reader#bambam imagine#bambam scenarios#got7 x reader#got7 imagines#got7 scenarios#kpop#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#Spotify
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Hi, I don't know if the request is open, but if it is, could you smut Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay a visit to his work while Lute He's out there and he takes advantage, I love your posts and sorry for my terrible English
a/n: hiii darling ! i can surely whip that up for you >:) and no worries!! i hope you enjoy this since this is my first request i’ve ever done EVER and i’m super excited to share it with you ^^
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
angel baby
adam/angel wife f!reader
warnings: smut obvi
Your husband Adam has been hard at work the last few weeks and you’ve barely had time to actually be a married couple.
So you decided upon yourself to put something cute on and head over to his office.
Knocking lightly on the door once you got there, hearing his gravely voice yell, “Come in!” in which you opened the door peaking your head in first.
Taking Adam a mintue to look away from what he was doing to finally look up at you with his eyebrows furrowed at first but then instantly softening realizing it was you and not some random.
“Hey angel baby!!” He greets enthusiastically, watching as you then come completely into his office shutting the door behind you. Letting him get a good view of your ass in the dress you were wearing before turning to face him, in which he licked his lips thoughtlessly.
With a bright smile you walk over to him with your heels clicking along the surface of the floor till your behind his desk with your arms outstretched as he then pulls you onto his lap having you straddle him as he hugs his arms tightly around your waist kissing you deeply.
Trying to force his tongue into your mouth as you tried to pull away, but he grabbed the back of your neck before you could to keep you in place as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat.
Pulling away breathlessly with your chest rising and falling rapidly a long with his, as you see him starting to wiggle his eyebrows at you.
Slapping his chest playfully you huff, “You’re so annoying Adam.”
“Now is that anyway to talk to THEE ADAM, the original balls of this establishment?” He tutted letting a clawed finger trace up and down your side while his other hand slowly glided down to grope your plush behind.
You squeak as you try to shoo away his grabby hands that seemed to find their way back like a magnet making your body heat up within an instant, your thighs squeezing against his lap making him smirk at how needy you already were.
“Besiiiiides Lutes not here angel cakes..so that means we can fuck till the cows come home.” You hated how cheesy and hot he could be at the same time seeing as he started to adjust himself against you, angling his hips up to let his hard-on press against your clothed wetness as if sweeting the deal just a little bit more.
Though your face was still poker faced as if trying not to give in to this little game of his though you oh so wanted to play.
“Come onnnn, I know you want it baby~” He whispers huskily, his fingers going to raise the sides of your dress making your breath hitch.
“F-fine but will you shut up if we do~” Snickering he doesn’t waste anytime hiking your dress all the way up to your chest and undoing his robe to release his throbbing cock.
“You know better then i do that won’t happen”
As he moves your soaked panties to the side he lets his cock rub against your entrance with just the tip making a soft mewl erupt from your mouth. Teasing it back and forth seeing it get soak with your juices.
“Damn it baby you’re so wet just by the thought of us fucking huh…”
“I-I’ve just missed you~” You say with a pout on your lips as you wanted to so badly to sink down onto his cock as he kept teasing you so tantalizingly.
“Missed this cock too?…fuck” Nodding gingerly as he then grabbed a hold of one of your hips guiding you down onto him with a long moan coming from you and a hiss from him as you squeezed around him. “Still so tight after all this time you little slut? I thought you would’ve been used to this big cock fucking you by now..s-shit!”
Adam babbles on as you adjust to him once more. Slowly grinding your hips together causing a delicious friction between the two of you. Rolling his head back against the chair as all this time apart was really hitting him along with how good you were feeling. He started to get fed up with this vanilla bullshit you guys had going right now, humping like two jack rabbits.
So he had to pick things up a little (literally).
A low growl coming from him as he picks you up in his arms with his arms under your legs and his hands holding your ass in the air with all his might and pounds up deep inside you letting head of his cock hit repeatedly against your g-spot.
“O-oh my g-god Adam~!” You whimpered out loud as Adam shushed you for using the lords name in vain.
You looked at him meekly your mind completely fucked out as you threw your head back with the sudden force he was using making tears prickle at your eyes as it felt all too good.
Back to back to back mercilessly hitting your g-spot until you came undone, shaking with a pitiful sob as your walls started to milk his cock until he releases all inside you not too shortly after. Painting your insides white as he then continued to hold you there for a moment before he muttered,
“Fuck i missed you too angel…” As he started up fucking you once more going again and again until his cock was molded into your pussy and Lute had the not so pleasant suprise of finding the two of you still in his office on your seventh round of that day. Sounding like complete and utter animals.
#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings#☆⋆｡𖦹 adam#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam smut#adam smut
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TOEING THE LINE ─── robert fischer ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “Love him. Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” — ‘Giovanni’s Room’, James Baldwin.
pairing. robert fischer x secretary!reader
summary. being robert’s secretary means doing everything for him. everything.
warnings. swearing, oral sex (m), creampie, p in v, mention of handjob, sex as stress relief, intimacy issues, quickies, crying, fluff, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 6.8k
a/n. honestly this is just downright filth. robert & reader’s relationship/the way they treat each other is also a little confusing so i apologize LOL
i.
Being Robert’s secretary means doing everything for him: sending congratulatory gifts to his clients, picking up his drycleaning, answering his emails, and even booking his dentist appointments.
It means doing everything he asks, and everything you think he needs; he trusts your judgment, he said, because you know more about him than anyone in the entire world — even himself.
It means doing everything for him. Everything.
Robert had heaved a large sigh as he sat down in the backseat of his car; undone his tie; ran a veiny hand through his gelled hair. From that much, you could tell he was stressed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and, after being his secretary for three years, you also knew what relieved him best.
Your lips are wrapped around his cock the moment he gets home.
You were kneeling between his legs, hands curling around the base of his cock and stroking whatever you couldn’t fit - which wasn’t much, your throat having long since been trained to take his length all the way.
Grunts and groans spilled out of his mouth above you, but you didn’t look at him; you never looked at him - he’d been adamant about that, when you first sucked him off. Robert never told you why, just that your gaze should never reach his; you thought it had something to do with his vulnerability, his parental issues rearing its ugly head in every part of his life, even his sexual one.
Robert’s hands wrapped around your wispy locks, giving you a makeshift ponytail, and you flicked small licks on his tip before descending back down on him. His grip on your hair tightened, and as you curled your warm tongue along his shaft, he began to bob your head up and down on him, faster, harder, hard enough tears formed in your eyes.
He was stressed, so he was rough. But you took it in stride: he was your boss, after all, paying you the big bucks for your service, be it actual secretarial duties or requests just a step away from prostitution.
You gag, once or twice, on account of how brutally the head of his cock is bruising the back of your throat, and Robert slows down; stills like he’s nervous you’ll break, but you continue expertly, focussing on lapping up the beads of precome spilling from his slit. You breathed in and out shakily, ignoring the ache in your jaw.
His hands then left your hair, instead fumbling for the armrests of the leather chair and squeezing down on them as his back arched and his head threw back: he was close.
When one of your hands left his length and reached down to fondle his balls, Robert let go, a stuttered moan leaving him, and he released his load straight down your throat. You felt it spurt and coat your mouth, wet and thick. The only thing left in the room was your breathing, his high and tinny, yours haggard and desperate for oxygen.
After a moment, you got up, noting how tight your legs felt while wiping a drop of come from the side of your mouth with your thumb. “Rest up, Mr. Fischer,” you insisted gently, resuming immediate professionalism, “you have a nine-o-clock with the head of Proclus Global tomorrow.”
Between breaths, Robert finally looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, buttoning his dress pants back up. “Saito?” he wondered aloud.
You nodded silently in response. It was certainly odd to inform Robert about his schedule and meetings like you didn’t just have his hard cock in your mouth, but after three years it became part of the job. You reckon you could ride him and still arrange his doctors appointments by phone.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Fischer.” You addressed him with that title, ‘Mr. Fischer’, to keep a distance. Despite what you often did for him, you still considered yourself just his subordinate; just his secretary.
You then turned, kitten heels clacking quietly on his hardwood floor, primly and properly leaving his condo with the taste of his salty come still imprinted on your tongue.
ii.
By eight am sharp, you’ve returned to his condo. Robert would need a little more than what he got last night, especially since he’d be meeting Saito, like you said.
You mapped out his habits and what he was like a long, long time ago. He’s got a higher-than-average sex drive, but no time to be in a relationship with anyone — thus, your duties. Blowjobs after a long day and a quickie at least five times a week are a must, and never, ever, kiss him.
Robert’s… well, a slight sex addict, having to regularly fuck or get pleasured just to keep sane, but intimacy’s got him hiding under the covers like he’s just seen a ghost. You, on the other hand, can’t discern the difference between if you have sex and kiss or just have sex - it's both sex.
It’s just a thing that needs to be done in the end, and in Robert’s case, it’s like eating or sleeping: he needs it to live, so he gets it and lives. Simple as that. There are no feelings between you two, and it’s been that way for as long as you’ve been his secretary.
You entered Robert’s condo easily, having a key and all, where you then found him pacing in his large walk-in closet, fiddling with his rings.
You knocked lightly on the wall to alert him, stepping in when he noticed you and visibly relaxed. “Good morning, Mr. Fischer.” you stated, setting his drycleaning down on one of the velvet settee benches in the middle of the room.
“Morning,” Robert said absently. Without warning nor another word, he stepped closer to you, hands immediately pressing into your waist. His palms were sweaty, a feverish need radiating off him as he kneaded at you, pressing you against one of the many closet doors.
He was nervous, no doubt the result of the impending meeting with Saito, which equated a frenzied mood sexually. So, you wasted no time, quickly unbuckling his trousers and unzipping his fly, letting your stockings pool at your ankles, hiking your skirt up to your hips.
Robert’s hands grasped at your soft thighs, lifting a leg around him as one of your hands slipped down the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock out. You pumped his length slowly, before spitting into your other hand, pushing your panties to the side and coating your cunt in the slick. You decorated your lips with the wetness, then carefully lined up his thick head with your entrance.
You bit your lip, wincing as he pushed in; no matter how many times you’d fucked — which was plenty — you always felt that stinging stretch when he first entered you.
From then on, Robert focussed solely on his own pleasure; on ridding himself of that anxious need, trying to fuck his insecure feelings deep into your cunt prior to seeing Saito. He grunted, a string of breathless curses leaving his mouth with every harsh thrust, just snapping his hips against yours repeatedly and chasing his high.
Your face was pressed flat against the shoulder of his cashmere suit jacket, and you shut your eyes, letting Robert use you - use your hole, specifically. You’d asked him once why he didn’t just masturbate or use a sextoy, and he told you that nothing beats a hot, wet cunt.
It didn’t matter to him what the girl looked like or what she cost, as long as her pussy felt good. That’s how he hired you: you’d spent an entire month by his side, and before returning to America from his vacation in Sydney, he confessed he’d never taken a cunt as delicious as yours. He didn’t have time to date, but he did have time for a secretary.
That was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him, pleading for you to work under him, just so he could feel your plush pussy clenching around his cock once more. You’d never been a secretary before, but he promised you’d be taught, that the pay would be good, and that once he got married you could be whatever you wanted in the company - as long as, while you were still his secretary, you’d fuck him when he asked.
“Fuck,” Robert growled out near your ear, pounding mercilessly into your sopping cunt. Despite the selfishness of this quickie, him paying absolutely no mind to you, you couldn’t help how your mouth went ajar and your hips rutted into his.
Robert had the best dick you’d ever fucking felt, average length but girthy, stretching you wide open. That first time you’d fucked, the one night stand, he kept telling you how tight your cunt was around his thick cock, and the next time after that, he remarked how you were just as tight as before. He was impressed, it seemed, how after each round of splitting you open with his dick, you always seemed to tighten back up.
You bit your lip, fighting back any moans from leaving your mouth, and focussed on gripping your arms around Robert’s neck. You noted how one of his hands dug into you soft thighs, pulling you toward him and sliding in and out of you desperately, like he’d never fuck again, while his other hand came up to the crown of your head, petting you softly.
Though your mind was foggy with pleasure, you knew it was an out-of-character gesture: being gentle with you, acknowledging your presence rather than just your cunt. Robert wasn’t a romantic man - you didn’t think he knew how to romance someone, especially since his parents' marriage certainly wasn’t winning any awards for perfection.
So, just doing that had the gears in your mind turning. You’d fucked him for three years straight, and not for a moment did he ever do something like that.
But then, as you were building toward an orgasm, that familiar pull in your stomach sending heat over your body, begging to go faster, Robert came, jetting his creamy load deep within you — and you forgot all about his odd actions.
“Feel s’good,” he mumbled, fucking you still. You were unsure whether he meant his high or your cunt, but nonetheless, he came down from his orgasm by shoving his come deeper in your cunt with his length.
Then, “What - time is it?” he said breathlessly, quickly pulling his softening cock out of your pussy and turning away so as not to face you.
You blinked rapidly, leaning against the wall and trying to regain your composure, ignoring the grief swelling in your insides at the incompletion of your orgasm. “8– 8:10, sir.”
Robert hummed in acknowledgment, still not looking at you as he redressed himself. You took in your boss’s form, how quickly his attitude changed from desperate to stone cold after sex; after receiving what he needed, like a fucking transaction, and you suddenly felt shameful: this here was one of the most powerful men in the world, owner of Fischer Morrow, and there you were, his secretary and fucktoy he could replace at any time.
You weren’t special - you weren’t anything, especially not to him. If - no, when, he meets someone who pleasures him better, you’re out of a job. He said he’d help you when he got married, but you don’t think that’s happening anytime soon… and you know Robert: he’ll get tired of you, like the spoiled little kid he probably was, and will just find some other toy to play with.
“I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Mr. Fischer.” you informed him numbly after pulling up your panties and stockings, shakily stepping out of the walk-in closet. It wasn’t often you felt like this - this being pathetic and used, because on the surface, this job was perfection. Good pay, good reputation, a boss who fucks you - and fucks you good.
Sure, you could probably count on one hand how many times he made you come in these past three years, but it still felt nice, even if he never drove you past the edge. But, these days… you started wondering if this was the rest of your life.
You couldn’t get a boyfriend, no, not without lying to him about what you did for a living, and there was still that uncertainty in the stability of this job. Robert had deep parental and intimacy issues - as stated by his therapist, in which, after eight weeks of seeing him Robert left in a fitful, teary, suffocating rage - and, beneath his cold exterior, was a hotpot of bubbling emotions he never deigned to reveal until he was seconds away from blowing up.
In short: Robert was the most moody, unpredictable person you’d ever met, and working under him was like balancing on a tightrope. Because he never said what irritated him, always emotionlessly telling you to stop if he preferred you didn’t do something, you could never tell what was actually pushing all the wrong buttons.
Before waiting in his condo’s front lobby like you said, you ducked into one of his many bathrooms and wiped the warm come dripping down your leg, flushing as you saw the ruined state of your panties and stockings: his white load had smeared all over the fabric, and, while you could get most of it off your dark stockings, it stayed on your underwear.
You had to wear his come on your panties for the entire day, and in a way, it felt like Robert owned you.
That’s why… you had decided to quit. You wrote your two weeks three months ago and have been holding onto it ever since — because you didn’t know how to tell him you wanted to quit, especially since your heart didn’t want to.
Your head knew you were meant for more than secretarial duties and a quick fuck, but your heart ached for the lonely being that was Robert Fischer. That young CEO whose grievous relationship with his father was aired out in the newspaper, the man who went through succeeding the company as well as any young person could: fumbling, being crushed by the weight of his late father’s suffocating legacy, and the boy who didn’t know why he could never get his fathers love or approval.
The heart wants what it wants, but the head knows best. You resolved to hand him your resignation by the end of the day, listening to your head, and got ready to leave this part of your life behind; to leave Robert Fischer behind.
iii.
“What's this?” Robert asked in his office without looking up at you, gaze still trained on the papers he was signing. You had entered his office to deliver his mail and ask questions about various appointments - when best to schedule that lunch with his godfather, that kind of stuff.
And… to hand him your 2-weeks.
“It’s my 2-weeks, Mr. Fischer.”
“…What?” Robert set his weighted fountain pen down, looking up in disbelief.
“I’m resigning, sir.” You said gingerly, gaze trailing away from his own, ignoring how his expression went from neutral to crestfallen.
“I pay you well enough, I’m sure?” He said, sounding frantic and not doing the best job of hiding it with the shaky smile on his face.
“It’s not - about the pay. I’m just… I’m ready to do other things.”
There it was: you didn’t want to wait until he got tired of you and kicked you to the curb. This job was fucking comfortable, and that unnerved you. Working diligently, fucking him diligently, saving up money your younger self would’ve never thought could ever come your way - it was comfortable and you were used to it, but you just… couldn’t take it anymore.
You weren’t going anywhere like this. Not with Robert, not with your life, not with yourself. When you first took this job, you wanted to help him. Call it naive pity, but you thought the terribly mournful Robert Fischer could be fixed by getting fucked. God, your younger self had been out of her mind.
So, here you were, three years later and resigning from one of the wealthiest men in the world, heart begging you not to, head wanting to leave immediately.
Robert sighed, but nodded slightly. “Okay. Okay. I’ll send you your wages as soon as possible, and I can write a recommendation for your next—“
“There’s no need, Mr. Fischer,” you protested quietly. “My duties here weren’t exactly… just secretarial.”
Robert blanched, but agreed quietly. As you were about to leave, he spoke up. “Are you… free tonight?”
You tilted your head slightly, processing the topic change. “I have no plans for the evening, if that’s what you’re asking. I can come over after work—“
“No— no, not…” Robert grimaced, pressing two fingers between his eyes. “Proclus Global’s holding a charity gala. Tonight. Come with me; it’ll be your last event as my secretary.”
Your face warmed at your previous assumption he just wanted to fuck. “…Certainly, Mr. Fischer. There’s no need to ask, I’m obligated to agree.”
“I don’t… I don’t want to ruin any plans you have.” Robert’s lips pressed into a thin white line at your words. “If it - you don’t—“ He sighed, unable to say what he wanted properly, “You don’t have to say yes to everything I ask of you.”
“Work takes precedent, sir. You’re my boss - it’s only natural I follow orders.”
Then: “If that’s all,” you said, before promptly exiting his office, turning away and ignoring how crestfallen he looked.
It was normal for you to accompany him to various events, seeing as he was single, and you were his hot, young secretary — and it was an expected duty of yours after the first time you went with him.
You couldn’t figure out why his behavior had suddenly changed, why he’d become considerate— but perhaps it was because you were quitting. Although Robert’s emotional state was generally unpredictable, you supposed the professional part of him wanted to send you off nicely; have these last two weeks of yours not be soured.
Anyway, it seemed inviting Robert to the gala was what Saito was here for - and, presumably, to add some pressure onto Robert, since their companies were rivals. Robert was always… bothered, you could say, prior to seeing Saito.
The man made it a habit, consciously or unconsciously, to set Robert off, either by not-so-innocently referencing the late Maurice Fischer in their conversations, or by down right comparing Robert to him. It certainly wasn’t motivated by a personal grudge, no, Saito just wanted to see Fischer Morrow suffer, and for Proclus Global to rise. It was business politics, something you couldn’t - and didn’t want to - wrap your head around.
The only thing you had in mind now was if you’d dressed up well enough: you had a small collection of gowns that you’d gathered over the years attending events with Robert, but every time, he gave you his card and told you to pick out something nice. You guessed that he was the kind of man who preferred to always show up in something new, something better — and that translated to whoever was perched on his arm.
That, being you, who’d bought a black satin and lace dress with a slit on the left thigh. You knew what Robert usually wore to these occasions, so you dressed accordingly - and it was an accurate foretelling, to say the least. When you’d entered Robert’s condo, he was standing in the lobby, strapping a Tudor onto his left wrist. He was head to toe in black satin, just as you were, hair neatly coiffed against his forehead.
Your heels clacked loudly on the lobby tile, and he noticed your presence. “Black satin,” he scanned you up and down, “good.”
“Of course, Mr. Fischer.” You said politely, taking his arm when he lifted it up. The two of you headed to the car, and you didn’t miss how Robert opened the door for you first, like you really were his date for that night.
His behavior throughout that entire day had been downright weird, and even more so now, because if you really pressed Robert, he’d tell you you were just a piece of eye candy for his clients to ogle over, so they’d lower their guards; get distracted and forget to pry him for information regarding the company.
When you got to the event — which was taking place in a grand banquet hall in one of the many buildings Saito and his wife owned — a flock of people amassed, all greeting Robert and not-so-subtly alluding for him to head over to their table and discuss business matters.
There were also various clients and colleagues of Robert’s who’d come over to catch up with the young CEO, and many of them commented, as usual, about the plus-one by his side.
“And who’s this beautiful young lady?” One of the older men asked, raking his gaze all over you. It was clear as day: all of the men there were undressing you with their eyes.
You didn’t shy away, however, instead smiling thinly. “I’m Mr. Fischer’s secretary,” you told the group, tilting your head slightly and baring your canines. They could stare at you all they liked, but you weren’t interested in letting them know much more about you than your position.
It didn’t matter, anyway - finding out you were just his secretary made them see you differently. In whispered tones, they’d tell Robert they’d give anything to see you squirming beneath them, and he’d laugh a hollow laugh that didn’t reach his eyes and certainly didn’t come from the heart. To keep up appearances, buttering up his clients and letting them believe he was an easygoing guy, Robert would agree good-naturedly, but not without looking abashed, like he was too professional to actually ever breach that line.
Like his hand hadn’t disappeared from your arm, trailing across your backside and groping the soft fat of your ass, digging into you. Like you hadn’t stroked his cock in the car, gently pumping him with your spit-slicked hand.
You then broke away from Robert and the large group of businessmen to chase after a waiter who was holding a tray of champagne. In doing so you found out that Saito’s wife was, really, the main host of this charity ball when she, and several other women and wives of said business men, crowded around you, not unlike their husbands did to Robert.
You greeted them kindly, blandly replying to their invasive questions: no, I’m just Mr. Fischer’s secretary, no, he is not accepting marriage proposals, sure, I can set up a meeting between you and one of our energy advisors if you give Fischer Morrow a call tomorrow.
You let them talk circles over themselves, silently nodding, for Robert always reminded you to speak as little as possible. It would do no good for them to assume you and Robert were together — they’d tear you apart.
When the conversation drew its focus away from you entirely, you skittered away to find the waiter from earlier. An hour or two had passed since you’d arrived at the gala, and you indulged, letting yourself down a couple more glasses of that addictive drink. You were just about to grab one more, when you conveniently reunited with your boss and date for the night.
Robert looked peeved, perhaps something to do with how boisterously Saito was laughing across the hall, and in a moment of quick thinking, you pulled him closer to you. “Mr. Fischer,” you whispered, voice tranquil, “if all has been accomplished for the night, I suggest we take our leave.”
He looked up at you, oddly, like he was seeing you for the first time. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, “yes… you’re quite right.”
Without any goodbyes, the two of you swiftly hooked arms once more, and exited the building. The cool night air bristled around you, nipping at your skin, and Robert’s hands dropped from your arm, instead slipping into your own and keeping you close to him.
At the car, he opened the door for you again, helping you in gently, before sliding in on the opposite side. When you turned to face him, he absently brushed something out of your hair with his long, nimble fingers. “Dust,” he said simply, peering deep into your eyes.
You stared back at him, but your thoughts were elsewhere. He’d never toed the line like this before;
he’d never looked you in the eyes so much, held your hand, plucked something out of your hair or pet you or held you so close — out of the context of sex — that you could smell his cologne. He had never been so compassionate, so romantic, like this relationship of yours was organic and authentic, not transactional and emotionless.
The car ride back to his condo was quiet. His hand did not find yours again, not even to hungrily snake up your thigh and under your skirt — Robert was frozen, staring out the window and nowhere at all meeting your gaze.
Finally, when you got back to his place, you trailed after him — he trusted you to do what he asked and to do what you thought he needed, and that look of vexation he’d had before leaving only meant one thing to you: he was bothered, and a bothered boss does not mean good business.
When you’d both entered his bedroom, Robert stopped, and turned to face you. His hands found yours, tenderly slipping his fingers into your own and pulling you close to him, and you backtracked.
“Mr. Fischer?” You murmured, feeling how his rough skin brushed against you. “What are you… doing?” you questioned, your mind filled to the brim with the same question: what was Robert feeling right now? About you? For you?
He called your name out softly, like it was the only word he knew, shining blue eyes examining you intensely and flicking down to your lips every so often. “Don’t quit. I - I… need you.”
Your brows knitted - so it was about your resignation. “Mr. Fischer, you don’t need me, you… you need sex, you need someone to - to fuck you—“ You protested, wrenching yourself away from his grip.
“No! No. I don’t need you like that. I need you, not - not your fucking cunt, I - can’t live without you.” Robert’s hands pulled you back to him, holding you close like you’d crumble into ash if he didn’t.
Then, he kissed you, soft lips benevolently pressing into your own, long and deep like he was trying to melt into your touch. He was slow and chaste but there was a hint of desperation in his saliva, like he wanted to consume you, and you him.
You pulled back, alarmed, your chests rising and falling in sync. Robert had kissed you; he had crossed the line he vehemently set, the line he commanded be kept in place. You blinked, mouth opening and closing, unable to form words.
“Robert,” You said at last. Robert, not Mr. Fischer. Not Mr. Fischer, not now, not with how quickly his face had fallen from feverish to devastated. “you don’t think you love me, do you?”
Robert’s brows furrowed. “Think?” He repeated incredulously. “Do I think I love you— god, I… I do love you. I don’t think I love you, I know I’m in love with you.”
You looked at him dolefully, willing your heart not to beat out of your chest. “But why? I am certain you can’t answer that, Robert, because you don’t love me, you are - are merely feeling abandoned—“
“I love you because you know more about me than anyone in the entire world—“
“That is my job, Robert—“
“No, it’s not, and you fucking know it. You did more than I’ve ever asked of you: you know me, Robert, not Mr. Fischer, CEO of Fischer Morrow. You know me.” His finger dug into his chest, enunciating each point, and you couldn’t help the way his words swayed you - consciously or not.
In your silence, Robert continued. “And - and, I adore the way you think, how you laugh and how you see the world, how - how you understand people, people who’ve never had someone take the time to ever fucking do that. How you care. So - so… stay. Stay by my side.”
In the kiss, you two had found yourselves perched on his bed, and he looked at you, lips bitten between his teeth nervously. “Please,” he murmured, hand coming up to your cheek and meekly tracing shapes on your skin.
“…I can’t do this. Not with you. Robert, you - you don’t fuck a woman you say you love then pretend you didn’t.” You replied, shying away from his touch like he’d burnt you.
“I - I didn’t want to push that on you, not when - when we were…” he trailed off, hands leaving you and instead scrubbing his grimacing face.
“What, when I was your personal prostitute?”
“Don’t say it like that,” he said weakly, but didn’t protest. “I just… I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was just another part of the job.”
“Is it not?” You questioned, watching his expression change and flit through several emotions. “You’re telling me you love me, and you’re asking me to keep being your secretary. Robert, is this not just part of my job?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he pleaded. “It - you, can be more than that. You are the woman I worship and adore and - and will listen to, no matter what. So don’t leave.”
The words “me behind” did not come out of his mouth, but you felt it, like he etched it on your heart. Your eyes searched his own for even a semblance of fallacy — but it was so terribly real, truthful, that you felt a lump in the back of your throat form.
You pressed your forehead to his own, trying to digest this information: the reveal of his feelings… and the remembrance of your own.
His idealistic talk, his professions of love, his raw, long-suffering pleading made you remember the deep seated, stirring warmth in your heart that you’d beat to death all those years ago.
You remembered the fondness you’d felt for a melancholy man back in Sydney, the man with the demure demeanor, the charming words; the man who you spent a month with, the man who took you on sweet dates, who wormed his way into your life like he belonged there; the man who fucked you slowly and graciously and cherishingly; the man who, at the end, had to go back to America, to the life he never talked about; the man who you wanted to explore a forever relationship with, but had offered you a job instead.
“You love me?” you asked, vulnerability apparent in your tone.
“More than anything in the entire world.”
“Then kiss me.”
And Robert did, his hands sliding down your back to your waist, bringing you closed to him. This kiss was passionate, but patient and sheepish like you’d never kissed one another before. It was a sweet dance, all tongue and no teeth; curling around each other tenderly, desperately, like there was never going to be enough time in the world to express how you felt about each other, because you felt so infinitely.
Your fingers carded through his hair, tugging lightly on his feather-soft locks, and his movements grew eager, gripping your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. “I’ve never wanted anything so badly as I did you,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing hungry kisses on the delicate skin.
“I dreamed of this, in Sydney,” you told him, slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt and dress pants, “I dreamed of forever together.”
He shrugged off the many articles of clothing, then began unzipping the back of your dress without looking, “I dream of us and forever without an end: you are my ever-present thought.”
You paused your movements, looking at him squarely - though not without allowing your dress to fall off your shoulders - and pulling him into another kiss. “How could I ever have been content with just fucking you,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, “when these are the things you say to me?”
Finally, the two of you were reverently tossing and turning on the bed, completely naked and completely feverish, not just in lust, but in dizzying adoration and love for the other. Then, he was on top of you, holding himself up by the arms. His leg slotted between your thighs, your soaking wetness practically dripping onto him, and he could’ve fallen apart right then and there if not for your arm digging into his left bicep kept him grounded in reality.
His hard cock rested against your thigh, and after a moment longer of watching eachother intently, memorizing each and every feature you both had, he spread your legs wide and pressed his fat tip plush against your clit, introducing himself slowly.
“Is this okay?” Robert asked, biting his lip and reveling in how good you took him, even if it was just the head.
You looked at him blearily, barely registering his question, mind already losing itself to the pleasure he was inflicting on your cunt; how, the slower he was with you, the easier it was to completely succumb.
“Yes, fuck,” you ground out, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking him in, his groans growing louder as he pushed the rest of his length in.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you blurted simultaneously to his various noises of pleasure, your fingernails digging deep crescent moon shapes into his back.
“Best cunt I ever fucking had,” he grunted, hands gripping the sheets beside your head for dear life. He stilled for a few moments, letting you get used to his whole length in you — yes, when he’d fucked you all those times before, he was so desperate to come he hadn’t bottomed out his entire length in you, which… had already filled you to the brim.
“M’gonna,” he shuddered, feeling your walls bear down on him suddenly, “gonna move now.”
You nodded breathlessly, arching into his touch as he set a steady pace. He would drive into you slowly, teasingly, almost torturously, before suddenly pulling out, then thrusting into you regularly for a few moments, and finally starting all over again. It would’ve made you mad, if not for how sweetly he was handling you: his hand stroking your forehead shyly, gaze flitting over you like you were the only thing left in the entire world.
Robert leaned down to your bare tits, brushing his wet tongue over your nipples, which had grown sensitive and erect. At his touch, you let out a small squeak, “Oh, Robert,” you keened, rutting your hips up into his own on instinct.
You could feel him smile against your skin, and then, he slipped one of your nipples into his warm mouth, suckling loudly and making you tremble. His tongue devouring your tits, his hips snapping into you, his hands caressing you gently; fuck, you realized, it was all too much, but still just enough.
The way Robert fucked you was absolute perfection, the way he ravished and pleasured your body was heavenly; divine. Sweet moans left your mouth as Robert’s pace grew more frenzied, your sticky cunt making a sick squelching noise whenever he pulled out. You were like a fucking suction; even your pussy knew how delicious Robert’s veiny cock was, and held onto him desperately.
“You’re so beautiful,” Robert sighed, pressing his face into the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Your are the only one for me— fuck— its you, and only you.”
Though your thoughts were growing foggier, only focussing on feeling pleasure, you still had it in you to beam at his words, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a close embrace.
“Faster, please, god, I adore you,” you said after letting go, a string of words barely coherent. Still, you thought that even if you’d not said anything at all, Robert would have understood, for he began sliding his cock in and out of you rapidly. His hands found themselves at your hips, and he began pushing you up into him as he slammed down into your cunt.
His thrusts drew breathy moans from your lips, and you could tell how swiftly it affected him, knowing his cock made you shudder and whine like that, writhing beneath him, because he commanded gently for you to: “Look at me,” he said, and you obliged, taking in those sweet, wet blue eyes, lashes fluttering as he blinked. He wanted to look at you, and he wanted you to look at him.
“I’m looking,” you responded, barely able to speak.
“Good,” he said breathily, “I wanna know what you look like when you come.” Then, his cock began pounding into you, not cautiously and delicately, like he had been earlier, but insatiably, unable to think of much else but making the woman he loves orgasm. You could count on one hand how many times Robert made you come, but it seemed that’d be the only thing he’d be thinking about for the foreseeable future: devoting his time to making the odds even.
His words made your insides twist, the knot in your abdomen growing larger; it turned you on much more than you thought it would, for the notion of him coming in you because he wanted to, because he wanted to fill you with his seed and mark you as his, not just because he wanted to release and didn’t have time to clean it up elsewhere. Suddenly, you found yourself knowing the difference between sex with kissing, and just sex.
You hadn’t realized how close you were, steadily building toward an orgasm when your brain has turned off thinking and let you melt completely into the ecstacy, and only really comprehended it when Robert mumbled, “Jesus, you’re so wet, taking me so well,” and his praise sent you off the deep end.
Honestly, you couldn’t describe how it felt. You could, however, do so in comparison to your previous orgasms with Robert. Usually, it would feel good, but like it ended too fast. You’d conveniently orgasm when Robert came in you, and he’d drive out his high in your cunt, then pull out immediately. If you’d had your way, you’d keep him thrusting until you couldn’t take it anymore, wanting to drag out your blissful orgasm as long as possible.
That’s what happened here. The heat that encompassed your body was unfamiliar, but damn well fucking delectable, making your body buck up uncontrollably into his cock. You were high on the pleasure, drunk on his length, and he knew this, still gliding in and out of you. Your climax was like entering a deep pool: it took you over completely, and was a little hard to come out of.
“S’good,” Robert mumbled, not unlike he did earlier that day, but you knew it was different. “Your face look s’fucking gorgeous,” he commented, mind growing fuzzy as he saw your expression change throughout your high.
Your hands found themselves back in his hair, and you tugged him slightly so you could whisper in his ear. “Thank you, Robert,” you spoke warmly, though still panting, “for loving me. For letting me love you.”
You swore you saw light tears well in his eyes, but you couldn’t be sure, because he cocked his head back, neck clenching and his mouth falling open as he released his cream deep into your cunt, flush against your cervix. He let out a low moan as he climaxed, thrusts still coming but considerably slower. It felt like he’d been coming forever when his arms gave out and he finally went limp, falling down beside you.
“You don’t have to thank me,” is what he said first, peering up at you and brushing an eyelash off your cheek. “I’d have loved you no matter what you did.”
Now you felt the waterworks coming. How was it, that through such a strained relationship and broken examples of intimacy, did Robert know how to be so sweet? Or was that just him, just how his thoughts came to him; was it just his instinct and nature that made him so darling?
Weakly, you slip your arms under his, combining the two of you in a sweaty embrace. The room smelt like come and sex, the lights impossibly bright and beaming down on the two of you uncomfortably, but you could deal with it— and everything, so long as you were with Robert.
“If only I knew sooner how cheesy you were, Mr. Fischer.”
“Well, you’ll have the rest of your life to keep finding out… Mrs. Fischer.”
#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#inception#robert fischer#robert fischer x reader#robert fischer smut
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𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚! ⭒ best friend!mark x f!reader 𖦹
𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘! ⭒ suggestive, angst 𖦹
𝗪𝗖! ⭒ 1.9k 𖦹
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦! ⭒ smoking, mentions of death, suggestive content 𖦹
𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦! ⭒wrote this at like 2 am while smoking in my bathroom so um slay enjoy 𖦹
[☆ 1:23 am] "that shit's gonna kill you, you know."
the air at one in the morning was always so crisp and pure, and you smile at the irony as you bring the cancer stick up to your waiting lips, taking a long, purposeful drag- the smoke enters your mouth fluidly, swimming around in the back of your throat in a way that warms and burns it, creating a sharp contrast to the clean air surrounding you.
"we're all gonna die someday", you breathe out, smoke escaping around your moving lips with each word, swirling around and spilling into the air of mark's moon-lit car. two pairs of eyes follow how the thin stream of smoke emerging from the tip of your cigarette flows, clasped delicately between two of your fingers, disappearing out the window into the still, dark night. "i just like the idea of being able to control how."
"that's bullshit...", mark mutters, yet continues to watch, enthralled as you puff out another cloud of grey smoke.
it probably is bullshit, you think with a grimace, but at the end of the day, nothing even matters, really.
he finally shifts his eyes off of you and focuses them on something outside his window, propping his elbow on to it and leaning his head against his palm. "how do you even like that shit anyway? it literally tastes like death."
"have you even tried a cigarette, markie?", you tease, digging a tooth into your lip to bite back the soft smile that is about to spread on your face. mark's expression holds a piquing curiosity with a hint of apprehension, maybe even a little disgust. he's never been good at hiding his emotions, no, every feature on his face is a tell.
he peers at the object in your hold, the moon behind you reflecting in his eyes, making them shine in a cartoon-like way. "...no", he relents after a moments pause, making you giggle slightly.
"then how can you say they taste like death?"
twisting the cigarette in your fingers so that the burning end is facing you, you incline your hand towards him, offering it to him. mark's eyes widen slightly, mouth opening but not saying anything. he looks more than apprehensive now, but his eyes still carry a glimmer of curiosity.
you should feel bad, offering such a toxic, harmful thing to your sweet best friend, but you knew once he tried a puff, he'd probably never want to be within four feet of one ever again. "you don't have to if you don't want to", you say honestly with a shrug, your eyes softening at mark's conflicted gaze.
wordlessly, he reaches over and takes the cigarette from your fingers, now looking slightly more determined and sure. you quirk an eyebrow up, a small smile gracing your lips as he brings the rolled up paper to his own, taking a rather deep drag.
you don't even need to wait to hear his cough to know that the drag he took would be much too heavy for him.
his cough sounds more like a retch than anything, bringing his inner elbow up to his face so he can cough into it. smoke fills the car while mark sputters and hurriedly hands you back your cigarette, dramatically leaning his head out the window and taking deep breaths, causing you to laugh loudly.
"o-okay, now i can confirm cigarettes taste like death", he groans hoarsely, his voice sounding raspy and scratchy in a way, reaching over to the side of his car door to fish out a bottle of water. you take another slow drag and watch with a grin as he gulps it down like he hasn't drunk water in years, zeroing in on the way his adam's apple bobs up and down.
"maybe i like the way death tastes", you sigh blissfully, slouching further in your seat and inclining your head back against the car seat headrest and simply opening your mouth, letting the smoke escape in wisps.
you can't see him because your eyes are closed, but he's watching again, entranced by the way the smoke dances and swirls around your mouth like its alive, how you're not forcing it out of your body but it's delicately leaving of its own accord, gentle and untouched.
"you're fucking crazy", he merely mumbles, twisting in his seat to face you fully as you open your eyes and give him a soft smile.
"you feeling better?", you ask sympathetically, and he responds with a roll of his eyes and an affirmative nod.
the moon is in his eyes again, and this time, you allow yourself to fully in drink him in. he was so pretty, his velvety, dark hair never styled but somehow always looking presentable and falling in the right places. his mouth is open slightly, lips so pink and soft-looking.
you're not surprised at the ideas forming in your mind, not even thinking before you open your mouth to speak them to him. "markie, i wanna try something."
the sultry way in which you speak immediately creates a shift in the smoky air, noticeable to both you and mark. he gulps a little and squirms in his seat, but not uncomfortably, more like he's intrigued. "w-what is it?", you know he hates the break in his voice with the way he winces, eyes looking down to his feet and then flicking back up to you.
not breaking eye contact, you take a final, drawn-out drag from your dying cigarette, not bothering to look as you flick it backwards and out the window behind you.
he waits with baited breath, chest rising and falling in an unrhythmic way and eyes switching between looking at your eyes and your closed lips. "y/n, what are you-"
you cut him off by placing your index finger against his parted lips, slowly splaying the rest of your fingers across the expanse of his cheeks, gripping his face gently and pulling it towards you. he sucks in a breath at the foreign action but lets you pull him close nonetheless, eyes fluttering open and closed out of habit.
your lips spread into a smile as you bring them dangerously close to his, squeezing his face a little so his mouth forms a slightly open pout. locking eyes with him, you slowly exhale and blow the smoke into mark's open, waiting mouth, watching numerous emotions flash in his eyes- surprise, lust, amusement, the list goes on.
he inhales the smoke you share with him, tilting his head back and swallowing for no real reason. he doesn't cough this time but he is hyper-aware of your hand still gripping his face, so he straightens his head just in time before you do it for him, all for the purpose of crashing your lips against his.
and once again, the line between friends and lovers blurs, twists and distorts, molding together just as your lips do.
a startled squeak escapes mark's mouth against yours, but he soon responds just as firmly as you, caressing your cheek with his hand to deepen the kiss. you taste like cigarettes, and even thought mark said they taste like death literally a couple minutes ago, he doesn't think they taste like death on your tongue. no, he thinks they taste like heaven now. digging your fingers into the material of his jet black jacket, you attempt to further the pace of the kiss but you find that the angle your neck is sufficiently derailing your plans.
"wait-", he grunts and breaks the kiss, much to your disappointment, but quickly moves his hands down to your hips. catching on, you clamber over the gearshift awkwardly and practically fall into his lap. "much better."
now in a much more suitable and comfortable position, your lips are smashed together again in a bruising kiss, your hands slipping around his neck to play with the hair at the nape while his slip down to grip at your waist, then repeating the action with your thighs. you begin to card your fingers through his hair, tousling it but you know he enjoys it nonetheless. his mouth is devouring yours with a fiery passion, tongue swirling around along with yours, exploring you in a heated manner. with the way he's kissing and holding you, you'd think you were going to disappear into thin air.
a hiss escapes his lips when you tug at his hair particularly harshly, choosing to slip his hands down to your ass to squeeze the flesh with a kind of intensity, making you throw your head back and let out a breathy, amused laugh. one roll of your hips is enough to let mark know how the rest of the night is going to go, he's been through this before countless times, but at the end of the day, he supposes he doesn't mind. he has to not mind. "what's wrong, markie?", you smirk, mistaking his silence for some form of submission, the purposeful slow grind of your hips intending to rile him up.
"stop calling me that.", he sighs, trying to shut you up by locking his lips with yours, swiping his languid tongue across your bottom lip, then deciding he wants to bite down on it instead. "stop calling you what, markie?", your mumble against his mouth, words spilling into it as your peck his lips in between each syllable.
a low sound emits from him, almost like a growl, and he shoves a hand up your shirt, bunching it at your chin, revealing your lacy bra. "pretty...", he mumbles, fondling your breast roughly, the tip of his nose pressing into your cheek. from there, he places kisses on various parts of your face, going from your cheek to your forehead, to the corner of your mouth, and finally, to your lips, kissing you yet another time. your skin is so, so soft to him, and he wants his lips and hands to feel every inch of you again and again and again. he doesn't think he'll ever get sick of kissing you, he thinks it's simply not possible. "mark, please-"
abandoning your lips, he attaches his soft lips to your jaw, moving downward and peppering wet kisses as he goes. he doesn't know what you're begging for and he knows you don't either, but god does he want to give it to you. he'd give you just about anything and everything you ask for.
settling on the spot right below your ear, mark sucks on the skin gently but loudly, eliciting small gasps out of you, filling the silence of the car along with the sound of his lips painting your skin. "i love when you kiss me like this.", you whisper into the night.
"i love when you..." "i love how you..." it's never just been "i love you." before mark can dwell in that house forever, your impatient, huffy whine somewhat brings him back to reality.
but the scene that is playing out in his car feels like deja vu to mark, because he has been here before. a simple night out together somehow always ends up with you on top of or under him. not that he's complaining of course, he just wishes you were...
"...mine.", you groan against the top of his head as you grind yourself down on him. mark thinks he might start laughing now, but it wouldn't be a happy joyous laugh, it would be an incredulous if-only-you-knew laugh. you don't see it but he smiles sadly, pulling you in by your cheeks for another searing kiss. he tries to convey every emotion he's ever felt for you through this kiss but he knows its not enough.
mark knows your words are just words because he isn't yours. you aren't his.
#mark imagines#nct imagines#mark angst#nct angst#mark smut#nct smut#nct dream#nct x reader#nct 127#nct blurbs#nct headcanons#nct fluff#nct fic#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct drabbles#nct dream angst#nct scenarios#nct au#nct oneshot#mark blurb#mark x reader#mark fic#mark fluff#mark drabbles#mark scenarios#mark oneshot#mark lee angst#mark lee smut#mark lee imagines
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☆𖦹🪲🔒🗝️Intro post 🗝️🔒🪲𖦹☆
i go by ari and adam
bi genderfluid transmasc aroaceflux guy
ADHD, anxiety and mdd as well as some undiagnosed horrors
PLEASE raid my asks its so fun
the undead interest me 🧪
i like to draw, i post my art here sometimes :))
DNI: basic dni criteria, nsfw accounts, 19+
art reqs CLOSED rn!!
current hyperfixations/interests:
saw franchise, reanimator, the penumbra podcast, good omens, vampires, moths, wwdits, lisa frankenstein, wtnv, homestuck, d&d
some music i like:
will wood(wwattw), sir chloe, adrianne lenker(big thief), tv girl, evanescence, car seat headrest, mitski, she wants revenge, london after midnight, the cure, the smiths, oingo boingo, tame impala, that handsome devil, lemon demon, etc
formerly known as blu3indigoviol3t
go follow my boyfriend @lunar-mourning !! 🪲
𖦹☆𖦹☆𖦹☆𖦹☆𖦹☆𖦹☆𖦹☆𖦹
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IM BORED and i feel like taking up all the space in the liv tag again
this is the last chapter of Tender Buttons and its main plot on ao3!! its rushed and rambly but i had fun doing it!
“Alright! Alright, so, what you said stuck with me. Why drag people into this? When I can just focus on the Spider. However-” She speaks brightly as she moves her mug to one of the tentacles.
“Oh, goodness, and..?”
“I can drag you into it!” Olivia outstretches her arms with a wide grin.
Lucy’s heart sinks, and she freezes up. “Me?! No, no, no! I’d be terrible for your plan!” She stammers.
“I’d absolutely disagree, you're perfect!” Olivia points at Lucy and pokes her in the chest. “Don't worry, don't worry.. I have a plan, you'll be fine!”
“And if I said no? Would you go and just grab some random guy off the street?!”
Olivia blinks a few times, and pulls back her hand. “Maybe.”
A few moments pass, and Lucy drops her gaze to the counter. She's clearly mulling it over, as her eyebrows furrow and she frowns ever so slightly. All before taking a deep breath and looking back up. “I’m in, but not for the sake of whoever else you would've gotten- I’m doing this for you.”
She can't imagine how long Olivia has been fighting. Fighting for herself, for her work, for her life. Lucy just wants to see the doctor win.
If it weren't for Olivia perking up at Lucy’s acceptance, the younger woman definitely would've felt bad.
“Oh that's just perfect! You know, it's definitely best that you agreed, we already work so well together.” Olivia exclaims, and she steps to the side to wrap an arm around Lucy’s shoulder. An actual arm. Lucy does take this with surprise, but just like the day before she does follow along as they leave the flat.
If Fisk hadn't owned this building, the two women would definitely be getting far more stares, but this only bothers Lucy.
“I was thinking last night, you're the first test subject I’ve grown a liking to, you're not as much of a captive audience. I don’t know-” Olivia muses, and when Lucy’s expression hardens she quickly reiterates. “Hey! Hey I promise I haven't tested on other people- Maybe a spider or two, but you’d think if I did any bigger animal I’d be out of a job!”
Despite the odd subject, Lucy cracks a smile. There's something about the way Olivia talks, the lilt of her voice when she corrects herself, the shift in tone when her mood lightens. Lucy isn't sure why she notices this, but she likes that she does.
Their chats are simple in the long elevator ride down, but the plan is laid out simply.
Lucy attracts Spider-Man to a location on the outskirts of the city. Whether it be a building he hits on patrols or a past battle location, she can catch him and say she's lost. She could hypothetically try and slip on those web-shooter disablers, but she's adamant she couldn't. The machines activate, Olivia is alerted, and Lucy escapes as they fight unfairly.
Not much could go wrong!
𖦹
It isn't the best location, a warehouse on the harbor that is cast into shadow by the clouds above. It's fairly chilly, and the place seems more deserted than anything. Olivia takes a seat on the edge of the roof, her actuators dangling off like ribbons as Lucy looks down into the inky waters.
“I know it's weird…” She begins simply, her hair whipping in the wind, “Why would I know Spider-Man’s patrol routes? Shouldn't I be more focused on work?” Her tone is mocking, like she's tired of herself.
“I wasn't going to ask, if anything, it's best for… Planning-”
Olivia chuckles quietly as Lucy hops down to sit next to her, but her expression soon shifts. “That's nice, but still, if I can do this one thing right, I- I may just get past that thick skull of his.” She’s more solemn, far from the enthusiasm Lucy had expected. The younger woman frowns, glancing back up.
“How long have you been fighting him?” She inquires, keeping her tone soft to try and be a better listener.
“5, uhm- Maybe 6 years?” Olivia speaks with a shrug. “The collider has been such a priority for the last decade, he only got involved a little bit after.”
Lucy fiddles with the web-shooter gadgets as she listens, letting the doctor's voice sink in. “And how often did you fight?”
“Every two weeks, maybe.”
Goodness…
Lucy’s eyebrows furrow, her lips in a thin line as she tries to process just how much Olivia must've been through just to get that machine operational.
Suddenly, far to the west, there's a blur of red leaping through the sky. Lucy notices this first, she was just moments away from zoning out, and after she nudges Olivia’s shoulder the actuators spur back to life. Olivia rises quickly, using the claws to support and lift herself maybe a foot into the air. It must've been a habit by then, like a fearful animal trying to seem bigger. Only two of them are free, and one instinctively pulls Lucy forward.
The distant figure dips behind one building, and then leaps over another, leaving silken strands in his wake. This was it.
“Can I pick you up?” Olivia chimes.
“What?!” Lucy barks, “I mean, sure, but-”
In the split second when the wide eyes of Spider-Man’s mask are visible, Lucy is held up like a trophy by a tentacle as Olivia drops back down to her feet. A second one snaps around her torso as well, and practically squeezes out a shrill, short scream. She slams her eyes shut, and she clenches the mechanical wristbands she held tighter.
The next moment she opens her eyes, all she can make out are the machines that hold her, the dizzying sky, and the flash of Spider-Man yanking an actuator on Olivia's back. Promptly, Lucy is dropped, and she can't help but yelp again as she curls into herself. Rather than by the Spider, one of the tentacles catches her by the collar of her shirt, and tosses her from a foot in the air to the building's stairway.
She can't make out much of the fight, maybe a wide grin from Olivia and flashes of hits, but is too preoccupied with not panicking and breaking the tech anyway. There’s a joke here, a shout there, but the only thing that shines through is how dangerous these two can be. After Spider-Man had pulled the tentacle from under her, Olivia retaliated with a kick. For as cunning as she was, with rhythmic maneuvers and long reaching swings, Spider-Man always seemed to weasel his way out. Whether it be with or without the use of his webs.
“You can't seriously think that you’ll get away forever!” Olivia snaps, her voice breathy and cold. The years of practice came in handy, she deflects a punch and returns with a hard kicking blow to the hero’s stomach, but all he does is deliver an even harder punch right in the face.
“I never did!” He shouts back, and the youthful courage in his voice clearly surprises Lucy. Olivia lets out a forced, dark cackle at his expected quip, and quickly retracts the claw of one tentacle to replace it with a buzzsaw. The sound of spinning metal cuts through the air, an uncomfortable addition to the already tense fight.
It all went downhill fast. Spider-Man pays no mind to Lucy, and strikes hit after hit. Olivia barely had a chance, never did, and probably never will.
One punch hits her square in the nose, causing her to stumble back. But as she does, the saw-tipped actuator rushes forward, and accidentally cuts past her left arm. It slices right through her latex suit and severs a wire on her shoulder, leaving sparks and a gnarly scar in its place. The doctor uses a tentacle to anchor herself to the floor, and the tentacle that had cut her twitches as the saw retracts.
As Lucy scrambles to the stairway’s broken door, Spider-Man shoots a web and disables a tentacle to keep Olivia busy, before shooting one to leap over to Lucy and kneel at her side.
“You! Hey, are you alright?!” He asks, his voice quick. He’s taller than both women, and with how bright his suit is Lucy can feel a headache forming from that and her fall. She lies there for a moment, before leaning forward with a small groan.
“Yeah… Yes-” She mutters. Her upper arm had been badly bruised, and an ache pulsed through her shoulder. Spider-Man brings her hands forward, ready to catch her if she tumbles forward.
The slightest drops of rain tumble off of the Spider’s costume, and cause Lucy to blink quickly. That's when she notices the tall silhouette of the doctor behind Spider-Man.
She bursts forward where she sits, and snaps the thin devices around his wrists.
All she can do is whisper “Sorry,” before Olivia strikes. The villainess clutches her injured arm with the other, and she wrenches Spider-Man away from Lucy by his shoulder. She tosses him like a ragdoll across the roof, and when he attempts to recover with a web, he simply can't. The click of his ring and middle fingers to his wrist are met with silence, and he scrambles to latch onto the side of the building.
Olivia can't even fathom a smile through her rage, and before she's able to rush over Lucy grabs onto an actuator. The girls look like messes, as rain pours down each and every scar is much more visible on Olivia's face, her arm is bleeding and one of the tentacles is glitching wildly. Each strand of wet hair frames her face. Frames that… Look of fear. Lucy keeps her head low, her own hair practically covering her whole head and shoulders. They both breathe quickly, they both freeze, one from pain and one from terror.
As quickly as it started, the moment ends, with Spider-Man leaping forward from the ledge and pushing himself off for momentum. As quickly as she can, Lucy scrambles to stand. She tugs down the tentacle she held as Olivia shouts in surprise… And just before Spider-Man reaches them, Lucy shoves Liv through the doorway and down the broken stairs. The villainess flails to recover, claws slither and writhe to grab anything possibly, but they're unable to other than a windowsill further down. Lucy ducks almost immediately, and Spider-Man’s quick attack only hits the doorway. The concrete crumbles, dust forms around his fist. The punch could've been fatal, and the impact of his strike even formed a hole.
There's a thud at the floor of the building as the downpour continues, and Lucy stays low to the ground.
Spider-Man hesitates, his breath heavy as he looks down. He wrenches off the devices from his wrists, and tosses them in front of Lucy. All before rushing to leap away.
She’s left there, alone, unsure of Olivia's safety after technically betraying them both. Tears hit the roof lighter than the rain.
𓆞
Oh that girl.
It’s over for her.
Olivia lands in a stack of wooden scaffolding, her impact rattling the whole building. It strikes her back and snaps an actuator out of place, leaving her a dizzy, pained mess in a pile of dust.
She doesn't stand immediately, she doesn't even feel like she could if she wanted. Slowly, two tentacles retract back into her suit, but that's met by weak groans. The one that had snapped can only go in so far, and the broken half lies limply out of its casing. The fourth twitches weakly, and fumbles to find something to latch onto.
𖦹
Even through her pain, Lucy was able to get away from the building. She struggles to make herself look presentable in her slow trek back.
She’ll hate me, she won't ever forget what I did.
She does make it back to Olivia's apartment, thank goodness for her planning, but the moment she makes it inside she rushes to the small office room.
It's much cleaner than it was at her arrival, and she makes a note to apologize later when she begins to rummage through.
Was damage to the tentacles felt? Could they be rebuilt?
But she finds nothing helpful. No notes, no schematics, just a map with marks of past fights. It’s covered in bunches of pins and miscellaneous marks, like something a detective would have- Many are bundled around Alchemax locations, but now, a new spot could be added.
𖦹
But what if she didn't team up with the Spider?
Understandably, Olivia's trek home is much slower and much more painful. Each step drains more energy out of her, and she feels like a disgrace.
This is how it usually ended. She’d lose, be beaten and torn worse than before. It was worse this time, since this time she was with someone. It wasn't that she made herself look like a failure in front of the first woman who’s liked her in any way in forever, but more that she was afraid of how she'd lash out at Lucy.
As she walks, she replays each and every moment of the fight in her head. The cuts, the kicks, the punches. And it strikes her that Lucy didn't just run away.
𖦹
The next hour was rough. Lucy crumbled onto the couch, her knees to her chest and her head low. She didn't even bother to clean her wounds, and just… Cried for a bit.
That was most definitely the worst thing she could do. It hurt, she hated herself for acting on impulse, hated herself for even getting wrapped up in this mess.
A knock sounds at the door. It's quiet, but firm. She does hesitate before rising to open it, but does so anyway.
Of course. It's Olivia. She looks worse than earlier, her hair soaked and flat as it tumbles over her shoulders. The cut on her shoulder has been haphazardly covered with another torn piece of her suit, and bruises and scratches litter any visible skin. Her eyelashes flutter, and her chest heaves with each breath. But she stands tall, even with the one tentacle holding her up and the snapped one hanging limp.
Lucy is quiet, her breath caught in her throat as if she were stuck in a dream. Olivia looks at her like a deer in headlights.
“You…” The doctor murmurs.
“You helped me.” Her voice weakens.
She steps in, Lucy steps back, and she wraps her arms around the younger woman. This was nothing like the dream Lucy had. Olivia shakes with each breath, she feels light as a feather as she hugs and holds on for dear life. Lucy is frozen where she stands, her teary eyes widening in shock as she tries to process anything.
It's going far too fast for Lucy, but not fast enough for Olivia. As they stand in a warm, bundled hug full of pain and rainwater, Lucy tries to speak.
“But I-” Lucy breathes out.
“You pushed me, y- Yes, we know..” Olivia states, keeping the hug tight.
Before she can utter another word, Olivia looks up with tired eyes and leaves a weak kiss on the crook of the other woman's neck.
“But you saved me.”
#🪶skyliv🧪#olivia octavius#fanfic excerpt#self ship#selfship#into the spider verse#oc x canon#doc ock#selfship writing#self ship writing#fanfic#fanfiction#cringe
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