#glowing tattoos are my weakness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mayullla · 12 days

Text

Title: The Wedding is Today

Character(s): Viscount (Unnamed character/original work)

Summary: The wedding is today as you look at yourself in front of the mirror, wearing a white gown. Are you scared or are you broken? You weren't sure. Yet your time was limited till you become whole his.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Viscount x Fallen aristocrat!reader, F!reader, general yandere themes, manipulation (both physical and mental), power imbalance, forced marriage, loss of control, womb tattoo that is not sexual, forced servitude, 2k words

This is part two, click here for part one!

Dressed in the most beautiful white wedding dress, decorated with lace and pearls, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You had always dreamed of wearing a wedding dress; after all, it was something that you had always been told you would have. And you had always been fascinated by the idea of wearing a dress that was the image of purity and elegance. In the past, you thought you would have it with your ex-fiancé but instead of him you were to wed another man, someone so infatuated by you.

Even with carefully done hair and makeup, it could not hide your empty eyes.

Was this the result? It had been a long time since you last saw your face in the mirror. In that dark room, forced into the whims of that man, you didn't have much. There was no mirror there, just a bed, table, and desk, with most of your clothes and necessities brought by the silent servants.

Hollow eyes covered by a black cloth.

You felt weak, your body shivering as you pulled your eyes away from the mirror. Tears threatened to fall as you tried to hold them in, worried that you might ruin your makeup and irritate him, who only wanted perfection.

You didn't want this… you didn't want this at all.

You were marrying a monster.

Even if you wanted to escape, there was no way you could. He had made sure to snuff out all your ideas or thoughts of running away. That man had placed his hands all over you just to ensure that you could think of nothing but him, making sure you would never be able to run away even after you were finally let out from your prison. You still felt like a trapped bird.

Invisible chains locked your wrists, legs, neck, and hands, forcing you to dance to his orders. You could not stand up; it was as if something was holding your stomach down, a weight keeping you still on the chair as you waited for the time drawing near, challenging you to even think of trying. A white choker necklace tightened around your neck, making you conscious of every breath. Your back was straightened with a corset designed to keep your posture rigid, preventing you from even bending slightly.

He said that he had to make sure, after all, worried that you might hunch and cry while walking down the aisle, your face would be hidden with the white veil, but he just had to make sure of your shoulders and your back.

“Your tears are pretty. But if you don't give the crowd a happy cry then we shall keep most of that in private. Oh love, you are my precious and it is the same with your tears also. They should only be seen by me.”

Yet nothing could be as shameful as the womb sigil placed on your stomach the glowing ever so bright under the dark room when you were told to go to sleep late at night. A warmth it created that you didn't want. You would have preferred to freeze to death that feel this.

The viscount rambled about how much he adored you, his perfect doll, during the carriage ride, and how much you have improved in the past days that you stayed here. He commented on your suffering and how hard you were working just to please him. You flinched the moment he said that he could not wait to make it official that you were his. “In just a few hours my dear and all the world would know that you are mine forever.”

You didn't want to look at him. You didn't want to look at anyone.

“My lovely bride," his comments made you want to vomit as tears fell down to your skirt in the carriage. His hands touched your cheeks as he gently lifted your face. Your eyes met his, and not even a lick of pity or guilt was in them, nothing but obsession, lust, and thrill. "Aww… Let your tears out now, dear, so that later when they put on your makeup, you won't ruin it," he whispered as he moved his thumb to clean your tears from your cheeks.

“I am the only one here with you right now. It is okay to cry.”

“My little dear is just so pretty. Sometimes I don't know if I could hold back later when you finally become fully mine." Lowering his head, you flinched again when he placed his chin near your neck, his hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel his cold skin against yours, hot from your emotions.

“I worry that I might just break you one day..."

None of the guests touched you when you arrived at the wedding hall only able to greet you with a bit of a distance; maids that worked under him had made sure of that. Small adjustments in the dress or helping you reach one place or another were all done by them. They worked efficiently, but you knew that their main job was to be watchdogs.

You could never stare into their eyes for too long, though. To someone who knew or who was sharp, it was obvious that the shine of life in them, meant to fool outsiders, still looked somehow fake.

You stared at the floor of the dressing room, zoned out. The music from the orchestra outside was loud yet muffled. You could hear people talking, enough to realize that the Viscount made sure that everybody attended just to see him put a lock on your finger.

In just a few minutes, you will belong to him, and you can do nothing to stop it.

It was difficult to breathe.

You didn't want to move at all when your feet started moving, tried to stop yourself when you felt a certain buzz in your core under your stomach again, warning you not to try anything.

You remember after all that time when you so desperately wanted to run away and were so close to doing so. Back then when the Viscount left the room without locking the door, you thought you could run away at that moment and that this was your chance. Even if your feet hurt from dancing the same steps for hours just moments ago, you forced yourself to move, so desperate to leave.

There was no one in the halls as you ran, careful not to cause any sound that would let servants or him notice your presence. And you were close… very close to the door to the outside.

Only to feel a shock in your core running through your whole body. It was like fire burning your skin inside out, licking your skin, leaving trails of fire that grew hotter and hotter. You fell down in the hallway, unable to move as waves of pain threatened to melt your body. You couldn't scream at all, barely a gasp.

The sigil on your stomach had reacted violently to your escape.

And the pain didn't stop, no matter how many tears fell from your eyes. No matter how much you wanted to escape from the pain, it kept you wide awake. The pain in your stomach was gruesome, while your veins felt like it was lit on fire. At one point, it did dull down, as if someone deemed that your punishment had been properly given… but you could not move, and he made sure of that. You covered your face and sobbed still feeling like every body part was burnt to a crisp.

Later, when the Viscount came back from a meeting and saw you on the floor he tutted at you… no anger in his eyes when he picked you up in a bridal carry. “My dear honey, you shouldn’t have done that. What if you had gotten hurt while running away?” He asked you with a smile, his grip on your leg painfully tight.

You received another punishment from the Viscount himself.

You watched him place a chain on your ankle, securing it to the bed. You flinched at his touch, whining when the cold metal touched your skin.

“I made sure to go lightly on you. But don't think it will be the same next time, dear,” he told you as he carried you to your bed, giving you pecks on your forehead while combing your hair as if to comfort you. “It will be even worse than this..”

Let me remind you that as long as you know that you belong to me, I will spoil you more than kings and emperors could ever do for their queens. But if you could not understand that, then we could only just fix it… and you already know what I mean by saying that.”

“Right, Love?”

“It will be your turn soon. Please get ready,” a servant spoke up. In public, they removed all their masks around their eyes. You had expected their eyes for a moment to be dead just as they were before, yet instead, you saw a liveliness that didn't belong to the person. “Please wait a moment, and we will finish up a few remaining touches,” the servant spoke in a cheerful voice, as other servants walked around with similar smiles.

You disliked how fake it was, but more than anything, you were scared that this would be what you would finally become if you even made the Viscount mad enough, pushing the thought that maybe you already were deep in your mind.

A long veil attached to your hair, the Viscount had a favor towards longer hair and told you to grow it if it was short. The dress was cleaned from any fold marks, wrinkles and small imperfections.

A white bouquet held by another maid given to you.

Your hands took the white bouquet without listening to your fear and hesitation. Again, you wondered if you were broken, already a marionette that he sometimes called you.

Walking out of the bride's room, you stood in front of huge doors in the long hallway, your own eyes empty of any delight but hidden by the innocent white veil, sheer enough to see your face just a little. Your neck moved by itself when it heard the announcement of the bride, your chin being forced up as the doors opened. You could hear the clapping first, and as you started to walk down the aisle alone, you could see some nobles who once watched you be humiliated by your past fiancé and his girl.

You didn't care about them anymore.

Your eyes moved to see in front of you, and you saw your parents, both smiling as you walked down the aisle, almost as if proud parents when in reality you knew it was a picture the Viscount wanted of something perfect.

Looking at the man again, watching you walk towards him with a satisfied smile on his lips, you could see the madness and obsession swirling in those eyes, knowing that you have been placed into a corner where all he must do is choke you even more.

Standing in front of him, you looked at him, the same sly smile on his lips as the day you first arrived at his mansion and fell into his trap. The marriage officiant continued to speak, yet most of his words you could barely hear as you were too deep in your thoughts. This moment, these last few seconds would be the last that belonged to you until it becomes official that you would be forever trapped and controlled by the man's obsession and delusions for you.

You heard the Viscount speak for a moment, bringing you out of your thoughts immediately. You had become too sensitive to his voice. You noticed the marriage officiant turn to you after hearing the answer of the Viscount and asking you the question, “Would you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Looking at the Viscount who stared at you lovingly yet at the same time knowingly, waiting to hear you say the words that will bind you to him forever. This breath would be the last that you breathe for yourself and not for him. He was a serpent, he had already bitten into your skin, letting poison seep into your veins. Any hope now would be too late.

You closed your eyes, letting tears fall down your face.

“Yes… I do.”

413 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 5 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Best friend!reader | ~1K

Summary: It's the perfect solution. You need a place to stay, he needs someone to help with the rent.

*There be some male masturbation below.

A/N: I don't know. I was supposed to be writing something else. I just think they're neat. Will there be more? Who fucking knows, I certainly don't.

---

It was a stupid idea born out of necessity. All of the most memorable things in life begin that way. You needed somewhere cheap and immediately available and his roommate ran off with the bartender he met less than a month ago. These are the days to remember - early 20s when life can change at the flick of a zippo in a dark alleyway. That’s what got Gareth, the girl that lit his cigarette. He never stopped seeing her in the soft glow of that low flame, and it left Eddie without someone to pay the other half of the rent.

And there you were, broken hearted and bleeding in front of him. In need. And he could push away those thoughts that linger in his quiet and empty bedroom in the privacy of the night. He could make a space for you, he could help you. So he did. It all came together over the hashbrowns and pancakes seasoned by your tears. Your best friend, Eddie, made a proposal that would save the day and be perfect for both of you.

Eddie Munson - your hero with a spare room and the promise of an escape from that motherfucking dickhead that stained your sheets with that girl from his office.

—

It’s the first full day, and Eddie is standing in his own kitchen with his cock pressed painfully hard against his fly at the sight of you bending down to fish the griddle out from the low cupboard next to the oven. He bites the inside of his cheek until the taste of metal hits the tip of his tongue. He adjusts himself and clears his throat while he watches your hips jiggle. The blue and purple wings of the butterfly on the soft love handle above your left him seem to flap with the movement of your arms.

“Uh, when the fuck did you get that?” Eddie’s question startles you. Your head bangs against the shelf in the cupboard your elbow deep into. “Oh shit, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you back out of the small space and stand with your hand on the top of your head, “I think I’ll make it.”

The first thing you notice when you look at Eddie is the red at the top of his ears. This is something you rarely get to see because of the way his shaggy curls hang around his face. This morning his hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, and those hot ears are on full display. You think, I wonder what they would feel like against my tongue,

These are the kinds of thoughts that you’ve been having for Eddie for a long time. Months. Years maybe. These are the kinds of thoughts that make this entire arraignment the worst idea. These are the kinds of thoughts that keep you company in the dark when you chase after secret pleasure in the privacy of your own touch.

“So.” Eddie’s hands are gripping the back of the vinyl chair on the opposite side of the small kitchen table from where you're standing. “So, when did you get that tattoo?”

Your eyebrows pinch together in thought, but your hand travels back to touch the marked skin before your mind catches up. It feels hot at the thought of his gaze scanning across it. You can practically feel the inked skin dancing against your fingers.

“Oh! God, I forget it’s there.” You smile and can feel heat creep across your skin at not only the question, but also in the way his eyes look black. The way he shifts from foot to foot. You can’t help but let your own eyes scan across the inked skin of his arm while you think of how to answer. “I got it a few months ago. It’s stupid. A butterfly? It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie sighs and smiles. He turns his head a little. It’s a shy kind of gesture you’ve seen him do before, but without his hair to obscure his lips you can see that secret lift of his lips. It makes your knees feel weak to see it, and you think about running your fingers across his cheek. You think about his eyes fluttering at your soft touch.

“It suits you. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” Eddie clears his throat again and turns his head to look out of the small window above the kitchen sink. He doesn’t know that this gives you the perfect view of his long neck. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh, ok. I’m making some homefries,” at your words, Eddie meets your gaze again and it knocks the breath out of you for a beat. Your next words come out on an exhale, and you want to shrink to the size of a grain of salt so he’ll stop looking at you, “how do you like your eggs?”

“However you make them, Sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” You watch Eddie spin on his heels and walk awkwardly down the hallway before returning to the task at hand. Coffee, homefries, and eggs as a thank you to Eddie for letting you move in so quickly. You laugh at the shake in your hands and think about how stupid you are for letting your imagination run wild like this. This is Eddie, your Eddie. These foolish fantasies need to chill out. You can’t live like this.

—

Eddie’s head is pressed against the tile in the shower, warm water flows down his body in rivulets. He thinks about the way the purples and blues danced on your skin. The way those pretty lined stretch marks bracket around it. He thinks about the way his fingers would feel pressed into that skin, and squeezes his aching cock the way he wants to squeeze you.

The water runs down his face. Warm water runs into and out of his open mouth while he imagines the way those purple and blue marks dance under him. The way his fingers feel holding your hips still as his cock reaches deeper and deeper inside of you.

This was the worst idea he’s ever had, but he can’t care right now.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb

583 notes · View notes

luveline · 2 years

Note

needy reader with eddie when he’s been gone all day with a club meeting! pls it’s been on my mind :3

eddie is secretly just as clingy ♡ gn!reader / shy!reader | 1k words

You're lying in Eddie's bed, restless. Sick of staring at his things but too shy to snoop properly for something interesting to do, you wait for him to get back from his club impatiently. You wiggle your toes in your socks and dig them under the bedsheets, curling up in the centre of his bed with a morose pout. You bury your face in his pillows and breathe in the smell of his shampoo, his cologne.

You forget what you're waiting for and end up dozing off, hands wrapped around one of his pillows, the sheets tangled between your legs.

A warm hand clasps your shoulder, massaging gently downwards until he's found your hand. Eddie slides his fingers through yours, the warm bulk of his rings pressing into your skin.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says.

You blink at him through tired eyes and grin when you realise he's home. "You're back," you murmur, rubbing your face into his pillow.

He brings his free hand to your forehead.

"Sorry. Meeting ran over. Bored without me?" he asks knowingly.

You wrinkle your nose at him and sit up. He's quick to help you, a lean arm wrapped behind your shoulders, his hand slowly drifting to the small of your back. You drop your head against his shoulder.

"You want a hug?" he asks.

You nod hurriedly, not wanting to sound clingy but absolutely being it. He makes a pitying sound that's actually quite nice and wraps you up confidently, his hand rubbing down the lengths of your arms, his cheek pressed to your temple.

"I missed you," you croak.

"I missed you," he says fondly. "You want water?"

"No," you lie.

What you want is for him to keep hugging you close like this, the warmth of his body sinking into yours, his thigh crushing your leg. You feel very safe.

"You were gone all day," you say quietly.

It's dark out. The only light in Eddie's room is the weak lamp on the bedside table. It casts his shadow across the rumpled sheets and gives his pale face an orange glow.

You feel bad for being so needy suddenly and go to pull away. He gives you a great last squeeze and let's you go, though he takes one of your hands into both of his and works your fingers with his thumbs.

"You can have me all day tomorrow. Swears," he says. He's giving you a look you don't understand, maybe a hint of longing, a dash of apology. Whatever it is, he's too cool for it, and he clears his throat and nudges your legs with his knee.

"Move over."

"Get changed first," you say.

"Not like it's my bed, or anything," he mutters, though he does as you demand and drops your hand.

You watch him change out of his club shirt and his Levi's. Usually you wouldn't but you've missed him and you want to make him laugh, so when he stands in his boxers and stretches whilst looking for something clean to sleep in, you wolf whistle.

You're not very good. You wipe your spit wet hands against your chest and grin as he turns on his heel, eyebrows raised.

"That wasn't me," you say.

"No?" he asks.

You both laugh and as soon as he's pulled a pair of plaid bottoms on he's crawling up the bed towards you on knees, pausing before your lap. He kneels. Shirtless.

You raise your hand to the tattoo on his chest and draw a circle around it, following lines of dark ink diligently.

"I love your tattoos," you say.

He already knows but he smiles wolfishly and presses his hand overtop yours, two palms over his heart.

"Thanks."

"I'm serious. They're nice. They look good on you."

"I didn't think you weren't. I can tell what mood you're in," he says, first kindly and then with a charged smugness.

"What mood am I in?" you ask, trying not to show the effect he has on you.

"What mood?" he repeats dryly.

His smirk is troublesome but extremely endearing.

He guides the hand he holds to his chest over the curve of his shoulder. You follow suit and put your other shoulder behind his back, unsurprised when he takes your waist into his hand and drags you towards him. You climb onto his lap, thighs spread, hands closing around his neck.

He strokes your back. His hand moves up and down, your shirt moves with it, and he takes it as an opportunity to slide his hand beneath the soft fabric and spread his fingers across your skin.

"What mood?" he asks again, voice low and smooth.

You hide your face in the juncture of his neck, forearms braces at his nape. "Stop, Eddie."

"Stop what?" he asks.

You slide up his lap. "You know what."

"Don't act like this isn't exactly what you wanted," he says, though he says it with less heat than he'd spoken with before. "I'm just messing with you, sweet thing."

The pet name makes you smile. He must feel it on his skin. "Better now?"

You nod into his neck. "I miss you when you're gone all day."

There's a small gap where the only sound is his hand rubbing your back. He digs his fingers into the dip of your spine and rubs soothing little circles there that have you sighing out.

"I miss you too. Already told you that. You should come with me next time."

"I will," you say, though you probably won't.

He noses at your head until you drop your cheek to his shoulder and plants a smattering of tiny kisses on and behind your ear. "Don't believe you," he whispers.

He really shouldn't. You hug him closer and revel in his small affections, content to sit in his lap all night. Knowing Eddie, he might let you.

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

9K notes · View notes

claw404 · 23 days

Text

A c o l d n i g h t s h a r e d

× pairing: venture x reader

× words: 1109

× content: gender neutral reader, fluff, comfort, slight crushing

× summary: After a long day of work at the dig site, the two of you help eachother wind down and get ready for sleep.

[ A/N ] : Hello hi ive become severely obsessed with this Venture creature and im not seeing enough fanfics with them so of course i had to pick the pen up myself and get to work.

After a long day of work at the dig site, the two of you help eachother wind down and get ready for sleep. Sitting close by the fire, you help them clean up.

Holding the tissues you brought with you in hand, you began gently wiping Ventures face from all the dirt and dust as they sat slightly hunched over to help you reach better.

"Aw come on, do we really have to?" They playfully whined with a weak laugh, not truly being against this but they would rather be asleep right now.

"Oh shush" you replied with a soft smile, playfully wiping their lips to keep Venture quiet, their complaints now muffled.

You knew Venture would crawl into their tent all dusty and not see a problem with it, focused only on the excitement of getting back to work first thing in the very early morning. But knowing you- they knew you wouldn't let that happen.

After wiping their mouth clean you pause, staring at their lips, thoughts trailing somewhere else, somewhere pleasant, while your other hand cupped their face and thumb began to stroke their features...

Venture noticed your pause after a moment and blushed averting their eyes. Not knowing what to do they cleared their throat.

"Hm? Oh!" You caught yourself.

You yourself were now blushing while you continued your work. Now wiping their eyebrows, cheeks and then nose. A chill visibly ran through your body as the cold night wind picked up ever so slightly. You gently tilt Ventures face to get their chin and neck as well, trying not too be overly obvious while staring at their tattoo. The touch of your fingers, soft and slow, was so soothing to them, so sweet and comforting, relaxing even. They'd fall asleep in your hands any moment you worried.

They draw out a big, exaggerated yawn.

"Mmmokay!" they exclaim as they quickly pat their thighs before getting up in what seemed to be a hurry.

"Since we are done here-" Venture turned while dragging you by the hand as if you two agreed prior to whatever they were planning now.

"Huh??!"

Venture turned to you with an innocent look and their lips pouted slightly before they defend themselves "I mean, the night is cold, i thought we could- uh -share my tent and keep eachother warm?"

You just stare at eachother for a moment before you speak.

"I uh, sure, it is rather... cold" You're not sure how else to answer, too focused on the idea of being so close as to share a tent with them.

"Cool!"

Hands still intertwined, theirs much rougher to the touch than yours, you walked over to Ventures humble tent which was only a couple steps away from the fire. You wished it wasn't so close...

...

Venture let you crawl in first and the tent seemed pretty spacious at first, with soft bedding spread beneath and a small oil lamp next to the pillow, until Venture crawled in after you. Venture is broad and tall after all, you wondered how they even fit here without you.

You were propped up on your elbow as you watched Venture fluff up the pillow for the both of you, finally resting their head on one end. Their eyes looked deeply into yours, an invitation.

You haven't been this close with them ever before, your stomach quickly began doing somersaults at this realization, heart pumping faster. There was no backing out now, you yearned for their warmth.

Having to scoot a little closer, you lay down next to them, fitting your head on the other end of the pillow. Your faces were close, so close you could see Ventures eyes gleam with the soft glow cast from the oil lamp, the light catching the shine of their eyebrow piercing as well. In turn, they observed your face and its shine.

There was a silence between you two, a comfortable yet tense one. The sound of your calm breathes filled the tent, accompanied by the crackling of the campfire outside. Even further out crickets and other bugs could be heard singing their lullabies quietly, as if they knew not to disturb this moment.

You decide then to be bold and run your fingers, hesitantly at first as if afraid to be burnt, through Ventures wild locks. They were so soft yet thick and- dirt... grains of dirt and sand fell from Ventures strands, only a few but noticeable to you.

You clicked your tongue. "Guess i missed a spot" you scold yourself.

"Its okay" They take your hand in theirs and rest them between the two of you, giving yours a squeeze " you can get it next time" Venture said with a lazy smile, letting their chipped tooth peak through their lips. Their thumb running circles onto your palm.

The lack of distance between you became comfortable soon, so Venture decided to to shrink it even further when they laid their hand on your lower back grasping it, your body instinctively stiffened at their unannounced touch and they yanked you closer. Bodies pressing against one another, noses almost touching. Your heart picked up the pace again, thumping in response before Ventures hand started trailing further down all the while you still maintained eye contact.

With confidence Venture ran their large hand down your back, then hip, then thigh, then leg, hooking a hand under your knee on their way up and lifting your leg letting it snake around theirs.

Seeing you were still red and stunned by their advances, Venture decided to help you out. Taking your hand in theirs they guided it to their waist, firmly leaving it there. You got the hint and held them as their hand returned to your thigh.

Breaking that intense eye contact you had to close your eyes for a moment, the situation becoming a lot for you all at once, all too quickly. But then, all of the sudden a surge of energy rushed through your body and you kissed Venture. You kissed them, placing a sweet but small kiss on their lips and let it linger for only a short second before pulling away, now watching their reaction.

Ventures face was beaming like a thousand suns, they didn't think you had it in you and as a reward they returned the favour. With confidence they kissed you passionately yet gently, only for a moment, before pulling away and then kissing you once more. You locked eyes again while exchanging sweet smiles, yours shy, their smug.

Venture gave you one last pull connecting their forehead with yours as they closed their eyes. Soon, you did the same.

#WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT I FINALLY FINISHED A FIC HOLYYYY #i love them so much im gonna be SICK #venture #venture overwatch #sloane cameron #venture x reader #x reader #overwatch x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #comfort #short fic

225 notes · View notes

ksakiswh0re-xo · 1 month

Text

✧ telling hanma to bow to you instead :

cw: fem reader, role reversal, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk/degradation, fingering, impact play, brat-taming ig u can say

wc: 991

"On your knees."

His "Sin"-tattooed hand pointed down to the spot in front of him on the shiny, swirled-marble floor in his office.

Very characteristic of Hanma to demand head in the middle of him doing paperwork.

"How about you get on your knees for me?"

You quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow at him as you stood before his desk; all you were trying to do was ask him what he wanted for lunch.

You didn't have time for his shit today.

Hanma's golden eyes trailed all over your body, starting from your feet and moving up to your pretty fingers sporting those black stiletto nails with real 14K gold-chain detailing.

It came as no surprise to him that you'd say some shit like that; you've always been a brat.

Hell, that's why he liked you.

A dangerous, violent man like Shuji Hanma wouldn't dare put a weak-minded bitch at his side.

"Oh yeah?"

In an instant, all 6'4" of him was towering over you, skulking forward like a panther ready to pounce until he had backed you up against the bookshelf situated at the back wall.

In his pursuit of you, he had also grabbed his rolling chair from behind the desk to push in front of you once he had you trapped.

"Sit down."

"Shuji, I don't have time for this bullshit-"

"I said sit the fuck down."

With an exaggerated huff, you threw yourself into the chair, arms crossed over your chest indignantly. A true brat, indeed.

The corners of Hanma's lips turned up slightly, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead softly before grabbing you by the neck with the "Punishment" hand.

"Telling me what to do, huh baby? I kinda liked that glint in your eyes just then."

He tilted your head back to peck your lips, then put one hand on the chair to push it forward towards his desk.

Hanma slammed you against that desk, the sturdy oak material not even moving an inch with the impact.

"Can't say it's anybody's fault but my own, but that's okay. I like it when you get bitchy."

"What are you doing, Shuji? Stop messing around!" You moved to get up, but the look that he shot you quickly made you reconsider.

"You wanted me on my knees, so that's what I'm doing, baby."

He chuckled softly and dropped to his knees before you.

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor; this was new.

A small, golden key on a chain around his neck came into your line of sight as Hanma reached behind his head to unclasp it.

He used the key to unlock a bottom drawer on the desk and pulled out a pair of shiny, silver ankle cuffs along with a spreader bar.

“You like talking down to me? Making me into your little bitch? Huh, babe?”

Once he had you situated with your legs bent up at an angle and cuffed to either leg of the desk, he rolled his sleeves up.

Hanma spanked the fat parts of your thighs - left, right - alternating between “Sin” and “Punishment” as if you had wronged him, had betrayed him somehow and he wanted to make you suffer before he gave into pleasuring you.

Your body jolted and you flattened your back against the soft cushion of the chair with each strike.

He didn’t stop until your skin was so warm that it could’ve been glowing if you looked hard enough. His big, strong hands smoothed over the aching flesh and then slipped behind your knees to hike your legs up enough to slip his head between them.

The cuffs clinked against the legs of the desk, the cold material uncomfortably digging into your ankles.

“SHUJI, oh God!”

His hot tongue flickered over your clit; he used the tip to coax it from under its hood before pulling back and spitting a fat glob of spit onto it. The lewd sound echoed across the expanse of the large office space, making your face burn.

He moved his hands from behind your knees to grip your still-aching thighs and hold you steady as he buried his face in your wet cunt and went to town.

When Shuji was irritated and eating you out, he was doing it for his pleasure, not yours. It always felt like he was worshipping you, though. Doing his best to please you and show you that you didn’t belong anywhere else except with him.

“Mmm..,” he moaned, opening his golden eyes and staring up at your heated face as he continued to use his tongue to play between your folds.

With a loud slurp, he pulled himself away, reluctantly.

“Ahh!”

Three fingers sunk into you; “Punishment” while “Sin” pulled your folds back so he could watch how your little hole stretched to take him.

“You’re soakin’ me, fuckin’ slut.” Hanma grunted as your juices began sliding down his wrist and forearm.

After only a few minutes of this, he removed his fingers and flicked them - you could hear your wetness splash against the marble floor, further embarrassing you but also turning you on.

He switched hands in rapid succession and began fingering you once again, twisting and angling his fingers directly at your G-spot.

“S-Shuji, please…” Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, breathing labored.

"What's that?,” he leaned his ear towards you, “ready for me to get up, love?"

He sat back on his legs, knees spread wide so you could see how his cock strained against his pinstriped suit pants. You quickly shook your head.

"N-no, Shuji - please, don't stop!"

This brought a wicked smile to Hanma’s face and he licked over his lips before leaning back in to kiss each of your knees.

"Hmph, wasn't planning on it, brat."

✧taglist: @enchantedforest-network, @darkstarlight82, @chifuyuskoneko, @honeybleed, @ranspuppy, @kokonoiscoconut

#enchantedforestnetwork #hanma x reader #shuji hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #shuji hanma #hanma shuji #hanma smut #tokyo rev hanma #tr hanma #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #blood.trickles🩸#shuji h.🩸#blood marker🩸 : nsfw💉#fem reader #divider creds: benkeibear #mdni cred: cafekitsune #✧ksakiswh0re࿎

226 notes · View notes

caramelberzatto · 8 months

Text

between your teeth // c. berzatto

ding dong the bitch is back with a REPOST because my blog DIED anyway, love you, enjoy >:) (nsfw below, minors dni)

The steady buzz of the needle droned in the small studio like a swarm of bees. Laid out on the table, you focused on breathing steadily through the uncomfortable sting.

The artist's gloved hand was warm on your arm as he held it still, carefully shading between the stencilled lines. You'd been coming to the same studio for months now after Carmy had recommended it; admittedly, he hadn't thought you’d be frequenting it more than him. Not that it bothered him, he found the steady increase of ink on your skin, the surprise of finding a new tattoo on your hip or thigh as he went down on you, really fucking hot.

And for you, something about the pain was a little comforting, so you just kept coming back. And, hey, the juniors needed to learn and practice somehow.

The bell above the door jingled and you glanced over, a soft smile gracing your features as Carmen stepped in, hair messy from the wind. He caught your stare, eyes bright, and winked.

“Hi,” he mouthed, sitting in one of the leather chairs in the waiting room, ankle crossed over a knee.

“Yo, Berzatto,” the artist, an older guy named Jared, looked up from the linework. “How’s the restaurant?”

Carmen’s brows shot up in that exasperated way they always did when he was stressed, sighing deeply through a weak smile. “Shitty, yeah, actually. Lots of renovation and shit.”

Jared nodded, getting back to work, leaving Carmen to watch you in peace. The way your face changed as the needle crept toward a sensitive spot near the crease of your elbow, the way you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip when it stung. And though his face didn’t show it, a rush of desire went straight to his cock when you squirmed on the table, crossing your ankles, causing your skirt to ride up a little.

It gave him a perfect view of his favourite tattoo. A little heart on your upper thigh, simple and plain, but it was the one he’d done for you. It started off as a joke, when you’d found your old tattoo gun that you’d impulsively bought in college, the same one you’d used to tattoo your friends. Never perfectly done, but fun all the same.

A few months ago, you’d handed it to Carmy and asked him to do it. Admittedly, he freaked out a little, afraid to fuck it up, but it had turned out alright. A little wonky, due to the lack of a stencil, but you loved it. And he loved it, in that little possessive way he seemed to always adopt when it came to you.

Seeing that little heart made his brain go fuzzy, sending him back to that morning; the early hours of limbo where his alarm hadn’t gone off yet, but there was no point in going back to sleep.

The bedside lamp cast a soft glow over the room, buttery and warm. Arching off the bed, you bit down on your fist to keep from crying out. The walls in this stupid, cheap, apartment building were thin, and there was only so much scathing, knowing stares from the neighbours that you could take.

“Like that, baby? Doin’ so good f’me. Feel so fuckin’ good.” Carmen’s voice dripped with sleep-addled honey, thick and sweet and sultry. You’d woken up reaching for him, a soft whimper of his name passing through your lips, and he swallowed the sound with a searing kiss.

Each of his thrusts hit deep, cock brushing against the perfect spot, and you rolled your hips to meet his movements. Foreheads pressed together, every breath was shared, every whisper of praise and quiet moans mingled in the fraction of space between the two of you. The chain around Carmy’s neck bumped at your lips, and you tilted your head to capture it between your teeth.

“F-fucks sake,” he breathed, gripping your waist. His thrusts stuttered; seeing you with his chain in your mouth struck something in his chest, and it went straight to his dick.

“Harder, Carm, please.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

He pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach, slid back in, and fucked you into the mattress. Each thrust, each impact against the back of your thighs, each stifled grunt and groan in your ear; it set your head spinning.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that, fuck. Carm, come on, fucking give it to me. Fuck. Please.” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a jumbled string, muffled by the pillow. Carmy’s hand found its way into your hair, tugging at the roots, and he smirked at the long moan it pulled from your throat.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ mouth,” he grunted between thrusts, feeling the pulse and flutter of your walls around his cock. “So fuckin’ good, baby.”

His thumbs fit into the divots at the base of your spine, fingers digging into your hips as he pounded into you, giving you exactly what you wanted, what you needed.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Carmy, I’m–” You lifted your hips and pressed back into him, chasing your orgasm, each thrust slammed into you, leaving you breathless. “Fuck, there, right there.”

Carmen’s grip on your waist got tighter, tight enough to leave bruises, as he got closer to the edge. When you came, burying your face in the pillows to stifle the cry of his name, Carmen swore loudly. He fucked you through the comedown, leaving you sensitive and blissfully overstimulated.

He was so close, every flutter around his cock unbearable. “Fuck, baby, where–”

“On my tummy.”

Carmen pulled out and you rolled over, just in time for the first spurts of his cum to land on the bare plane of your stomach. He jerked himself off until he had nothing more to give, and there were strings of sticky white covering your tummy. Swiping a finger through the mess, you held his hooded gaze as you sucked it clean.

Carmy watched you, panting. His hand rested on your thigh, thumb brushing back-and-forth absentmindedly over the little heart tattoo. He reached up, running his thumb up your stomach, before tilting your chin.

“Open,” he purred, and you did. He pressed his thumb onto your tongue, and you closed your mouth around it–

“Carm?” Your voice pulled him from his fantasy, one that had left his cock pressing against the zip of his jeans. He looked up and there you were, standing in front of him, arm out to show him the fresh ink. “Like it?”

Carmen swallowed, trying not to let his gaze slide over you, knowing it’d give every thought in his head away. But when he met your stare, he noticed the little smirk that tugged at your lips and realised you already knew.

“Uh, yeah, baby, it looks awesome.”

You winked and turned on your heel, wandering over to the front desk to pay, putting a little extra swing in your hips, setting your skirt flaring. Not that Carmy was staring or anything, (he was.)

Moments later, you were grabbing his hand, pulling him out of the chair. “Let’s go home.”

#the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you

424 notes · View notes

lizzieisright · 2 days

Text

Moon peppers (4)

(1) (2) (3)

Palestine: what can you do

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.

In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them.

You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.

Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out.

Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse.

Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible.

Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds.

At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you.

“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace.

Abby growls louder.

“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”

Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down.

“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility.

This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.

“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again.

You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.

“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”

Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her.

“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses.

“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”

You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck!

The wolf stomps after you.

“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf.

“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.

“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her.

But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back.

“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”

“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.

“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.

For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath.

“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face.

The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you.

Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before.

Well. She can play nice too.

“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!

You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces.

It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation.

“You didn't have tattoos before.”

You smirk sadly.

“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”

How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?

“So you still do deals.”

“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”

“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”

“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”

“I heal fast.”

“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”

Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?

“How far is too far?”

“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”

Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you.

You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away.

It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)

You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all.

“It's bad.” You laugh.

“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”

You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad.

(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life).

“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”

“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous.

“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.”

Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it.

“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”

“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute.

“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer.

Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried.

“Do you have any meat?”

“...No.”

“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes.

“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.”

That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo.

“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.

You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.

After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes.

She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now.

You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you.

“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”

Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her?

“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?

“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.”

“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.

“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”

Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad.

“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way.

“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”

Abby hums, thinking it over.

“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”

“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return.

The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous.

The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house.

“Why don't you use wood like normal people?”

“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.”

Abby huffs.

“So you rely on your magic all the time.”

“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan.

Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night.

You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised.

You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #alpha!abby #moon peppers

88 notes · View notes

frenchkisstheabyss · 7 months

Text

♡ But It's Better If You Do ♡

♡ Pairing: rockstar!mingi! x chubby!fem!!tattoo artist!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst/sorta suggestive

♡ Summary: Your ongoing love affair with your rocker client is all fine and dandy until you begin to catch feelings for him that send you into a spiral that isn't fine nor dandy.

♡ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: drinking, getting tattoos, kissing, briefly reminiscing on getting some top-notch dick, pet names (baby), reader gets turned on by Mingi (because, like, who wouldn't?), I like to say "fuck", & that's about it

♡ A/N: I've combined my neverending weakness for rock musicians, Song Min Gi, and happy endings into one fic and my lil alt girl heart is happy. I hope yours will be too. I may or may not have a thing for turning bad boy Mingi into a simp for reader but, like...ssssh.

It drives you insane when your friends tease you about Mingi, asking what city he’s in now and when you’ll see him next. You don’t know what city he’s in. That’s a lie, you always know. And you have no plans on seeing him ever again. Another lie. You’d stop the world to see him for 5 minutes. From the moment he walked into your shop, seeking an impulsive late-night tattoo, you were doomed to fall for him.

The first time he stopped by your shop it was a little after midnight and you were ready to close up but you were starstruck, you’ll die before you ever admit that, and he was gorgeous so you let him in. His choppy hair was a total mess and his dark eyeliner had all but melted off, the remnants smudged like ash beneath volcanic eyes that engulfed you each time they gleamed in your direction. You did the tattoo, an old-school traditional dagger down his left rib snuck in amongst the other 30 or so tattoos crowded onto his chest.

He paid you 3 times your normal rate and was supposed to be on his way. But you knew from his shows and his offstage antics that he wasn’t one to do anything he was supposed to. Armed with a pretty face framed by the softest cheeks and a plump figure he just wanted to nibble at, he instantly developed a weakness for you. Mingi had to have you and he did. All night. Reclined in your tattoo chair, bent over your workstation, cuddled up on the couch in the lobby. In the darkness of your studio, sweat-slicked bodies reflecting the glow of the neon lights like puddles of rain, he took you every way he could.

And you gave. And you gave. And you gave. Being with him altered everything you thought you knew about desire. About pleasure. Mingi touched you in ways you never imagined someone could. He made you feel beautiful. Worshiped you with his tongue from head to toe until the sun rose. Once it did he was gone, off to some other city. To some other girl in some other tattoo shop no doubt. So you moved on, filing it away as a one-time thing. Only it wasn’t. Mingi came to see you every chance he could.

Even if he was a few cities over he made sure to come by for another tattoo and another night with you. But these passionate encounters, concealed by the shadows of late nights and early mornings, planted feelings in your heart that bloomed long after he left. Your body was beginning to confuse lust for love, or so you believed, and that could only hurt you both. You especially. It had to stop. No more. Never again.

Your tattoo gun buzzes in your hand, a bundle of needles punching delicate black lines into Mingi’s neck. Never again? Yeah right. This time he wants a death moth on the side of his neck. It’s beautiful, as all your work is, and nearly done. Something he’s thankful for because this hurts like fuck but pissed about because being straddled by you on the couch has always been the preferable position for him. Your thighs double in thickness when they’re spread around him. He can just zone out rubbing and squeezing them.

“Hey!” you squeak when he takes a particularly greedy handful of your ass, “Cut it out or I’m gonna fuck up your tattoo.” Mingi takes a deep breath, his toned chest flexing as his muscles contract. “You won’t fuck it up. You’re too good at what you do. That’s why I come to you.” “Oh, really? Is that the only reason?” He grins and you can feel him staring at you the way he always does before your clothes end up on the floor. It makes your palms sweaty and your panties wetter than they already were. “You know that’s not the only reason, baby.”

Mingi sinks his fingers into your pillowy flesh, leaning forward to kiss you with not a care in the world about it ruining his tattoo. His lips brush yours, heightening the warmth between your thighs and making your heart change rhythm to match him. You want him on you. In you. You need him. Love him. Love him. Love him? “You need to go,” you say, your voice shaking as you flick off the tattoo gun. You’re off of him in a split second, packing your things away.

“Wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something?“ He tails you in your mad dash around the shop, sick at the thought that he might’ve made you uncomfortable. “I can’t—you just have to go, Mingi.” Snatching his t-shirt from the front counter, you toss it at him without looking. You can’t bear to make eye contact. “Did I hurt you?” You unintentionally ignore him, too lost in the tsunami of repressed emotions wrecking your insides. Mingi takes you by the wrist, pulling you close to him before you can get away from him.

“Did I hurt you?” “You didn’t hurt me, okay? But if you stay you will.” Mingi’s hands cradle your face, his mind frantically scanning it for some sign of what’s going on inside your head. “Whatever I did to scare you…I’ll leave but I’d never intentionally hurt you” he swears, “I love you too much for that.” You’re both equally shocked at the words that leave his lips. You weren’t expecting to hear them and, though he means it beyond measure, he wasn’t expecting to it to slip out.

“No, no you don’t. You don’t” you mumble, backing away from him, “You’re just saying that to—” “To fuck you?” he scoffs, in slight disbelief of what you’re implying. “I don’t know” you shrug, “It’s why you sneak off here at 1am to see me isn’t it?” Mingi throws his shirt on, grabbing his leather jacket off of your workstation. “I’ve asked you on dates. I’ve invited you to dinner with my friends. I send you backstage passes to my shows and you never come.”

“I’m trying to be more to you. I just wish you’d let me in” he sighs, stopping to plant a tender kiss on your trembling mouth, “Goodnight.” You're frozen in place, your feet sinking into the checkered tile floors like quicksand, as you watch him walk out of the door. A little voice in the back of your head whispers that he’s right. You have been pushing him away, playfully brushing off his proposals because they must have been a joke. He’s him…a star...and you? You’re just you.

Ignoring the tears clouding your vision, you flop down in a chair and begin scrolling through the texts the two of you exchanged over the past week. You stop at a message sent 2 days ago, your heart stinging at the sight of a link for a backstage pass for both nights of his show. It reads: "It’d be nice to see you. Would love it if you came.” You could take the chance, gamble with your heart—you close out of the thread, swiping to delete it—but it’s better if you don’t.

The roar of the crowd. The cacophony of instruments, harsh vocals, and borderline destruction laid out by the opening band. The chaos going on backstage to resolve last-minute disasters while his barely sober friends bullshit in the green room. The pure insanity of it all usually has Mingi wired but tonight he’s numb to everything. He leans back in his chair, checking his phone notifications. Nothing. At least not from you. He takes another sip of the beer he’s been taking child-sized swigs from for the past hour. It takes like piss, he doesn’t even like beer, but he has to calm his friends’ suspicions that something’s wrong by at least pretending he’s joining in on things.

“Party's here!” Yunho screams, bursting into the green room full of energy. Mingi perks up when he enters, the arrival of his best friend calming his anxiety. Yunho has no problem taking the social spotlight when Mingi isn’t all here and tonight he’s definitely somewhere far away. Yunho spots Mingi seated in the corner, staring into the mirror as he falls endlessly down some mental hole. “Still haven’t heard from her?” he asks, throwing his arm over Mingi’s shoulder. “No. I wanna call her, you know, but…I don’t know.”

Yunho snatches Mingi’s beer, chugging the remainder of it before tossing the bottle in the corner. “Listen to me, you forget her. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Actually, I brought a pretty fresh one for you tonight.” His face painted with a mischievous grin, Yunho slinks back over to the door to retrieve his surprise. Mingi rolls his eyes, his head thrown back in agony, “Yunho, not tonight. I’m not in the mood for this, man. I don’t wanna meet any fucking groupies.”

“I resent being called a ‘fucking groupie’” you pout, sneaking up beside him with the stealth of a secret agent. Mingi turns his head, squinting at the inverted image of you, “You—what are you doing here?” Your smile is awkward and endearing as you nervously fiddle with the lace trim of your black dress. “I’m letting you in...if it’s not too late.” By the way he hops up from his chair, his arms around your waist and his tongue down your throat in an instant, you already know the answer. But it still makes your head spin when he pulls away to say, “It’s not too late. It could never be.”

The head of a heavily pierced girl peeks through the door, her bubblegum pink hair swept into a high ponytail. “2 minutes til stage. Let's go!” she shouts like a drill sergeant and all of the men fall in line, rushing to get Mingi out on time. Yunho does what he can to put some distance between Mingi and everyone else, "He's coming! He's coming! Don't tear my man apart!" Mingi struggles to keep hold of you as what seems like a million hands pull him in the other direction.

“Just go. I’ll be watching so kick some ass, okay? For me!” "For you." You grab him by the shirt, sneaking in one last kiss, “Love you.” “1 minute til stage!” the girl’s voice booms once more. The tide sweeps him away until you can’t see him anymore but you still manage to hear a very excited “Love you too!” in that deep, raspy voice of his. You follow the herd, finding a spot off to the side just as he takes the stage.

Watching him perform, smiling at each other so hard your cheeks ache every chance you can, gets you high enough that you might as well be watching him from a cloud. When rips his shirt off, tossing it into the crowd, he reveals a chest covered in tattoos made with ink laced with silent admissions of your love. Only now they aren't silent. They're louder than every instrument on that stage. Because you're confident now that when it comes to taking a chance on love…on him…it’s so much better if you do.

#song mingi x reader #song mingi x you #mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez fluff #ateez angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

364 notes · View notes

red-pill-to-swallow · 8 months

Text

How to be attractive to men and my goals

Hey babes,

like I said – I want to incorporate RPT (Red Pill Theories) into my daily life immediately.

A few things that every women within the community seemed to be content with were:

1. You are never finished with glowing or leveling up. Never stop learning. Never stop trying to better yourself.

2. Pretty privilege is real.

I agree that pretty privilege is very real. I mean, I get affected by pretty people like everybody else, even if I don’t do it on purpose. It’s just something that is ingrained in our brains and I need to learn how to take this to my advantage.

I think I have a decent starting base, because I’m a skinny white woman in her twenties with long blonde hair. I am not really tall – even short men are at least 5-7cms taller than me – but I’m also not extremely short.

I have a petite frame but my body-shape is something between an hourglass and a peach. My face is average – I don’t really have striking features or am a natural beauty model – but my features also aren’t hideous. It’s really just something you can look at without thinking too much.

On a scale, I would rate myself a 5,5-6/10 on an average day and I guess that’s great!

But how can I make myself look better on a daily basis? I really took hours to research how I could make myself more attractive to wealthy and high value men.

Obviously, no man is like the other and every man prefers something different. One man might like tattoos and piercings while another man with the same social status thinks they are hideous. I don’t want to completely change who I am and I don’t want to spend thousands of dollars for it.

However, I really like this whole clean girl and old money aesthetic that is going viral on Tiktok right now – and I think those two aesthetics could fit me and my personality really well.

Most wealthy men seem to like this traits in women:

1. great skin without obvious pimples or enlarged pores

2. long and healthy hair in a natural color

3. straight white teeth

4. clean nails on both hands and feet

5. hairless legs, armpits and at least trimmed pubic hair

6. wearing clean and wrinkle free clothes without any holes

7. wearing a nice smell that is fitting to your overall appearance

I think those are the basics and they can be achieved by almost anyone. If you can’t afford braces make sure that your teeth are always perfectly brushed and that you’re keeping up with your dental hygiene in general.

In fact – if you have problems affording certain beauty procedures, research how to get as close as possible to them with DIYs.

For years, I always wanted to be the mysterious woman in the room. The woman with a dark aura, the woman that doesn’t speak much and remains most of her life a secret.

Well, I am not this woman even if I’m trying very hard. It would be an act that I would put on and I am sure that everyone in the room would notice.

I am naturally very bubbly and I love having conversations with people in general. I would also say that I have a broad knowledge on different topics and that I’m able to talk to almost everyone.

I am also very welcoming and I enjoy making people laugh and have fun in my presence. I tend to have strong opinions and I’m not afraid to take on a discussion.

With everything that I know about myself now, I made some points that I need to tackle in order to level up:

1. stop oversharing. Being bubbly is great but not everyone needs to know everything about my business. Sometimes it’s just better to be silent and to listen.

2. start with exercise again. I am happy with my weight but I am extremely weak and I have almost zero muscle mass. My breath is getting heavy if I have to take the stairs and my legs start to hurt after roughly 15 minutes of walking. I plan on going for a walk every day and doing pilates 3x a week.

3. start doing my hair and makeup again. My hair is long and blonde – so it is an eyecatcher. It’s also very healthy but I usually just throw it up in a bun or in a clawclip, so no one is really seeing it. I have multiple styling tools at home and I need to start using them. The same applies to makeup. I have so much great stuff that looks really beautiful and natural but I am just too lazy to use it. I plan on taking 20 minutes every day to do my makeup and to suck it up – because I usually always do a double cleanse at night, so it’s not really a struggle to take it off in the evening. It’s just inconvenient in the morning.

4. taking better care of my skin and of my dental health. I have high quality skincare and I love doing my skincare but sometimes I’m just too lazy. Let me just say that it doesn’t happen often – but still too much for my liking. Also my dental health – I need to make a dentist appointment asap. I think the last time I went was around 3 years ago!

5. buying better fitting clothes. I don’t like shopping for clothes but it is what it is. Right now I only have cute lounge sets for being at home but when I go out I usually only wear jeans with a basic top and sneakers. I want to look more polished and feminine. I want to stop wearing jeans and focus more on pants, skirts and dresses. Also literally any other shoes than sneakers.

6. go out more. I’m your typical homebody. Movie night? Reading a book? Ordering food? Count me in! I always have fun when I go out but I’m still mostly at home and I want to change that. I want to have a group of like minded friends that want to hang out with me. Maybe even at home. Lol.

I really thought hard about those six points but I think those are the first things that I need to tackle down.

In the end – I was asking myself: what could I do to feel the most comfortable with spontaneous outgoings and meeting new people?

It came down to wanting to look my best. Obviously. I want to make a good first impression and maybe even profit off of pretty privilege.

I’m sure we all know those times when we’re dressed like slobs and suddenly an opportunity to go out arises and we decline because it would take hours to get ready.

That’s the reason why I want to get ready in the morning – so I would only need to touch up if anything came up.

see you soon!

324 notes · View notes

imma-devil · 7 months

Text

Show me | c.b

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto (The Bear) x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, [one action was done with dubious consent; make sure you get consent when having intimacy with others].

Tags: slight sub!carmy, switch!carmy, virgin!carmy, experienced!reader (there's a bit of a power dynamic thing going on so if you're not comfortable with that then please don't force yourself), some size kink, one use of nickname (baby), insecure!carmy + (emotional hurt/comfort??), carmy has a praise kink?, carmy needs a hug, no use of y/n, brief edging, handjob (m!receiving & f!receiving?), p in v sex, no protection (wrap it!), creampie, cockwarming? I guess, not entirely proofread.

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Carmy and you are in a serious relationship. Carmy has gotten to the point where he knows what he wants, and that is to lose his virginity to the one he trusts. Will you show him what he has been missing out on for so long? Will you treat him the way he deserves?— Absolutely.

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry I have been MIA. This is my attempt to get back into writing. It is also my first submission for 2023's Lazy Ghouls Kinktober. The prompt I used for the week was virginity.

You can not take my work or translate it without my permission. This piece of fiction is mine, and only the character belongs to its original creators.

Honestly, you should’ve felt more considerate about the situation before you. Even though you could physically feel the anxiety that was thrumming through his blood and intoxicating the air, you could only focus on the honey glow coating his curls. The sun shone through the window of your Chicago apartment, illuminating half of his frame in its warm light. His eye, closest to the sun’s reach, held a crystalline structure of the purest blue. Even as his gaze flitted away from you, searching for some ease to his uncertainty, you could only focus on his beauty. It was only when his weathered hand moussed through his curls that you were brought back to Earth.

“Are we sure about this?” He asks, meeting your eye from beneath his lashes. “I mean… you kind of got the shit end of this deal here.”

“Says who? I’m happy with this outcome,” You smiled, your fingers playing with a crease in his pant leg.

“I just— I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into,” he said, sealing his lips in that nervous habit of his.

“You’ve explained it to me… I know what I’m getting, and it doesn’t make me want you any less.” You eased your hand onto his thigh, almost as if to transfer your feelings through touch. “So, stop trying to scare me away.”

“Trust me… that’s the last thing I want to do.” He exclaimed with a weak chuckle.

“I do… I do trust you,” you used him to scoot yourself closer to him on the sofa. “---and I want you to trust me too.”

“I want to do this. I want to do this with you.” He quickly averted his stare, clasping his hands around one another to rub at his knuckles. “...it’s just that, I’m not sure how— How do I do this?”

You cover his hands with your own, tracing his tattoos with your thumbs in slow circles.

“I mean—” He suddenly cut in, “I’ve watched it—y’know—so I’m not oblivious. I just, I— God! Why is this so difficult!?” He jumped to his feet, taking his hands to wipe the nerves from his face, his fist rising to rest over his lips; fearful that if he said any more, he would expose just how afraid he truly was. He was resisting the urge to run for the hills, the urge to accept that he just may never make it passed this step.

You rest your hand on his lower back, slowly approaching him from behind. With your hands looped around his chest and your ear turned to rest against his back, you breathe your words of advice: “...you take it one step at a time, one foot behind the other, and I’ll be here the whole way.”

“If you ever want to stop, or slow down, you can tell me.” You added. “I care about you, you know that?”

“...yea,” he hummed.

“I don’t expect you to be some type of sex god on your first go…” you huffed a laugh, “But, I do expect to have a good time… and if you let me take the lead, I’d like to make it so that you have a good time too.”

Carmy felt torn, maybe it was unrealistic to think that he’d be great right off the bat, that he could please you without guidance. All that he could go off of was the porn he watched as a teenager and the dreams of you that have been plaguing his sleepless nights. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed that he couldn’t perform to how he wanted… and at how a part of him enjoyed the way you were speaking to him. He shouldn’t like the thought of being taken care of, it was the guy who was supposed to take the lead, right?

You could feel the warmth of his hand fall upon yours, the rough pads of his fingers trailing faintly atop your skin. A taut breath shuddered within his chest before his mouth opened to voice his want, “...show me.”

Taking hold of his hand, you led him towards your bed away from the couch, keeping in his view all the while. You placed a light peck on his hand and watched as a smile tugged at his lips. Once the backs of your legs met the mattress, you guided his rough hand to your chest, bringing him just that little bit closer. Your lips met in a gentle kiss, coaxing a pleased hum from his throat.

“Take this off f’me,“ you pointed to your shirt, the rest of your fingers still slotted with his.

His ministrations were eager as he tugged at the fabric with his lips still against yours. You subtly released his grip, placing the both of your hands on his hips to give him more mobility to free you of your clothing.

“Slow,” you whispered upon breaking your kiss, grinning when his body nearly chased yours. “...like this.”

You recaptured his lips before sneaking your fingertips below the hem of his white-t, the rest of your hands soon followed as you traveled to the dimples in his back. Relishing in the goosebumps that arose on his skin, you paused to appreciate the moment. By raking your nails up the back of his sides, his body shudders. His shirt raises the further your reach meets the underside of his arms and you hook your fingers beneath the fabric to tug it up and over his head. Carmy then makes a sound of disapproval when you ultimately have to end the kiss to remove his shirt.

To your surprise, he doesn’t shy away once his chest is bare for you to see. Instead, he mimics your action, opting to personalize it to his own liking. He begins palm first, resting it affront your belly, just barely above your core. The sheer size of his hand in comparison to you is enough to make you flutter. His other hand stabilizes your back, resting it on the crest of your ass, pulling you into him— close. Carmy rests his forehead against yours, his glossy, blown-out eyes intruding deeply into yours.

“How’s this?” he asks, his tone bordering a plea, as his hand travels higher. His hips cant towards you while his composure inevitably dwindles, having underestimated just how much he wanted to do this before.

You can feel the callouses beneath his fingertips trail over the ridges of your ribs, stalling as they meet the underwire of your bra. You can hear Carmy’s exhales begin to shake, watching as his lashes grow even heavier. He helps your shirt the last bit of the way with his other hand and his lips part when he finally sees the skin beneath. His eyes drift to a close as he practically breathes you in, his hand slotting into your side where Carmy’s thumb mindlessly makes a rhythm of its own in the grooves of your skin.

You ridge your fingers over the waistband of his jeans, anchoring him as you continue your kiss. Almost as if it were a handle, simply made for your possession. “My bra,” you direct, barely registering the need to speak, all too consumed by the taste of mint gum and something warm– something undefinable.

Now this— Carmy actually felt like he could manage. He had done it once before in high school, ushered to a party he otherwise didn’t want to attend. The girl, he didn’t even know her name, but she had already taken her shirt off for him. All that was left was the bra, he managed to fumble for it in the dark before someone barged in and marked that he remain a virgin well into adulthood. Carmy was thankful for that now; you were well worth the wait. Whatever he could’ve experienced pales in comparison to sharing this bed with you, even if it has only just begun.

Carmy didn’t register that he would have to focus on the ministrations of his fingers instead of melting at your lips long enough to undo the clasp. You had this hold over him that was all-consuming like some thick haze clouding his vision; he wanted to give into it. But, fighting his innermost wishes, he tugged at the clasp, and couldn’t help but grin against your lips at his successful first attempt. Like a child, he nearly wanted to bolster his achievement with a celebratory fist, but knew well enough to avoid looking like an idiot.

But, he might’ve failed at doing just that because the second he caught sight of your chest, he could feel all sense escape him. His head dropped to your shoulder, his thick curls tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. You can feel the warm puffs of his exhale against your skin, his breath growing more haggard by the second. His hands traveled up the expanse of your sides, cupping your breasts in each of his palms. His hold— incredibly gentle, muscles taut with obvious restraint. He sublimates with a fierce kiss to your nape, a groan escaping his lips despite muffling himself into your shoulder.

“What do you want, Carmy?” you meagered out on short breath, “Tell me,”

His arm snakes around your torso, taking a bruising hold as he anchors you close to him. His other hand gropes the mound of your breast, the vein beneath his skin growing prominent as he wills himself to hold onto what remains of his restraint.

He makes an incoherent sound, filled with need and almost reminiscent of a word, but he nuzzles your neck as if he conveyed what he wished. He pushes his hips into yours, pulling away to look at where you met as if he were putting himself on display. “It hurts,” he whines with a wounded look… one that you would damn near call him devious for.

You undo the button of his jeans and watch as the fabric tries to force its way open at the pressure beneath. The zipper undoes itself halfway and you guide it the rest to reveal the bulge beneath his cotton briefs. He sighs with a slack jaw at the relief, watching your hands intently in anticipation. You palm him through his briefs for a moment, teasing at the weight of him in your hand, gauging his expression as his brows lift and a throaty exhale falls from his lips.

“You still okay with this?” you gloat while pulling away your hand, “We can still stop.”

His grip immediately snaps to your wrist as his eyes bore into yours, “Not funny.”

You gingerly hum a reply, “Kinda funny.”

You begin pulling your pants below your ass before stepping out of them one leg after the other and Carmy takes the cue to do the same. You took a seat on the mattress, playing audience as he took off the tight fabric. He kept taking glimpses of the small cloth that was scrunched at the top of your thighs. He couldn’t help but be caught up on the fact that you were sitting before him in your underwear, your legs crossed, your ass peeking from the underside of your thigh. He would give anything to see it. The same ass he would sometimes zone out on in the kitchen from the view of his office. The same ass that was hugged perfectly from your jeans. He was broken out of his thoughts from the sound of your laughter, and he couldn’t help the heat that crept to his face at the realization that he was caught.

Now that his jeans were gone, you could see his body for what it was. All that you could say is that you were pleased; seeing his built body and blushing face in front of you with the dick you’d been craving to see, barely hidden behind his briefs. He was almost hesitant walking over to you, like the moment was growing ever more real as it grew closer. To your surprise, when he sat next to you, he already took things into his own hands. He makes an advance at the back of your neck, swiping away any hair that resides there to clear him a space to leave small blemishes with his lips.

He was almost convincing you not to turn around, as if a distraction could postpone the rejection that he was adamant would soon occur. So, like in his pursuit of cooking, he set forth to please. He could remember the insecurity he felt when he first entered the field, the scrutiny that burned into his skin nearly as permanent as his ink tattoos, and the acidity at the back of his throat that made him feel like he was one failure away from collapsing from within. He would then drill through the motions of training and practice to overcome, like a sculptor who chiseled away at their stone. It's that same work ethic that now has him chasing your pleasure as if it were his own. It is why all sound washes away like water within his ears as he kneads delicately into your skin with all-seeking hands. As well as the reason why his kisses down the expanse of your back only relent because wanting pants were left in their wake. His eyes are sealed shut— vision abandoned so as to not see your regret nor disappointment.

He knows yet that you’re aware of this shield, and only pains himself with a tightening chest as you pull from his embrace. The ache doesn’t go away, even once he realizes that you’ve sat yourself in his lap, facing his way. Part of him wants to flee, but he can’t even bring himself to explain why. He knows what he wants and why he’s here in this moment, but can’t ascribe the reason as to why he wants to break away despite his desire on the crest of being fulfilled— It nearly baffles him. No, It practically angers him.

“Carm,” you begin in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’re mine— and the only way you’ll stop being mine is if you don’t want me to be yours anymore.”

He focuses on the sensation as your arm hooks over his neck for your hand to come up and play with his hair. The soft drag of your nails against his scalp has his eyes open beneath lidded hoods.

“You’re in your head right now, and I don’t want you to be… because what you’re thinking isn’t true.” He watches the words fall from your lips and hangs on every word. “Now, I say it again— if you feel like you’re not ready, I won’t rush you. But, if you don’t want to do this because you’re afraid I don’t want you?... then you’re kidding yourself.”

He’s all out of words to say, so instead, he lifts your hand in his and guides it to touch him where he needs you most. You’re a little shocked from the change in pace with your hand now palming his eager erection. He immediately exerts a sigh, and you mention nothing of the twitch of him from beneath your touch.

“Don’t lie to me,” he begs with poorly masked skepticism. “I wouldn’t forgive you.”

“---that’s more than I’d forgive myself,” you shake away his concern, your adamancy shining through your expression like a beacon over a fjord.

This time when you kissed, he tasted less like mint gum and more like molten heat. This kiss was beholden of a warmth attributed to the time spent between you, something a product of late nights cleaning the kitchen to garbled jazz and rock music from a cheap speaker. It was the product of brisk air biting at your nose during alleyway conversations, the smell of crisp mornings, and cigarette smoke wafting on the wind. The result of casual dates, never acknowledged for what they were; instead, listed as evening talks spent in each other's apartments, sharing naps, and dreams of the future.

You hold onto that feeling, the same as he does. You guide his hand to your heat, smiling as you notice his movements stutter. Without relenting, you continue to rub him above his briefs, applying gentle friction to keep him present.

“You feel that?” you directed his hand to set aside your underwear and up to your aching bud, “that’s my clit— do you know what to do with it?”

He stations his thumb on the bundle of nerves, rolling in languid circles. His eyes, linger upon your pussy that he’s been eager to see all afternoon, but soon look up to gauge your reaction and you can almost hear his unvoiced question of ‘did I do good?’

“Yes,” you grin. “Right there,”

He nearly choked when you unearthed him from his briefs with no warning, unable to push off the change in focus seeing as he was no longer in the lead. He’s probably not much longer than 6 inches, but he’s thick and sits heavy in your hand. He watches in awe as you lick a stripe up your hand before applying light pumps to his dick, afraid to push him over the edge too soon.

“What you’re doing to me right now, I’ll show you how it feels.” you breathe a chuckle, “...it shouldn’t feel too different.”

He briefly nods before you place your thumb against his slit, your palm working away slowly against his head while your thumb mimicked the motions of his. “Oh, fuck.” he whispers as if it almost was a question. The slight squelch from your lightly clenched fist was like the spoon that stirred the swirling contents of his mind. It was cute to witness his dilemma of where he should look, either at your glistening pussy that wept at his thumb on your clit or his dick that was bare and aching under your attention. His pants grew quicker with less between and you could tell he was nearing closer. You bridged that happy medium, fastening your pace and crooning as his pants grew into meager moans. It was only once his voice grew silent and his abdomen strung tight that you removed your hand entirely. He whined a sound of displeasure, to which you gave a remorseful smile and placed a peck on his forehead.

“Sorry baby,” you gave him an apologetic kiss for good measure. “You have to wait, we don’t want this to be over just yet.”

You watch contently as his breath shudders in his chest, coming back down to Earth. He doesn’t have much time to register you climbing atop of him, only truly realizing once he noticed you were lining yourself up.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” you asked, taking a moment to really confirm if he was ready or not. “---no hard feelings if you aren’t.”

“No–” his voice croaked in his throat, “No, I want this.”

You hummed in recognition of his response before lowering yourself down on him inch by inch. A pleased smile grew on your lips at the loosening of his, all while his brows formed a tight knot and he locked in on the site of where you both met.

“Ah, fuck~” he hissed, clenching his jaw so as to not say more.

Once he bottomed out, his head fell slack on his neck. His face– turned to the heavens, but his eyes closed in bliss.

“Mmm, you did good.” you praised. Proud that he lasted so far, you graced his exposed neck with a gentle caress of your warm hand. Your intention was to be rewarding, but truthfully, he found it laced with temptation.

With an ephemeral sigh pushed from his lungs to the sky above, you noted the jolt of him from within you. He releases a chuckle, thick with haze. “God~ you feel good…”

“What does?--” you fight back a smile, “How does my pussy feel, Carm?”

He groans, taking a brief pause before giving you your answer. “Warm~” his breath staggers, “...wet,”

“What about now?” you ask, lifting yourself on his cock. Your hips start to rock in a languid rhythm, rolling down on his in tortuous circles. He sets again his bruising hold on your waist, as if holding you, holding anything, could keep him in this moment.

You watch the muscles grow taut in his neck and a subtle pink blooms in the skin above his carotid. His abdomen matches; his muscles going rigid. You could tell he was already fighting his release, and it wasn’t unexpected.

“Carmy,” you grab hold of the side of his face, your thumb resting right on the apple of his cheek. “Just let go— you’re allowed to feel good.”

Calling it a gasp would be an exaggeration, but it was like Carmy resurfaced for air. Once he finally allowed himself to breathe, there was nothing to be done to quell his now free-flowing moans. Carmy wasn’t loud, it wasn’t quite like the volume he was capable of when coursing out demands in a busy kitchen. Of course, he wasn’t quiet either. His voice of pleasure resembled a deep sigh— followed by the slightest upturn.

Witnessing his pleasure added that extra sensation to have you harmonizing your breaths. Your pleasure grew balanced— as if every motion that progressed his pleasure pulled you along behind him on a tether. It wasn’t long before you felt Carmy’s confidence begin to build— his pace along with it. His hips carved their own rhythm, setting a motion faster than the one you set with his sensitivity in mind. There was a clumsy, yet endearing quality to his thrusts that had you feeling dizzy.

“That’s it, Carmy~” you praised, pulling him in chest to chest so as to drive him deeper. “Fuck~ so good."

With your voice so close to his ear, he could practically feel the vibrations. With each comment of support that you made, he could sense his dwindling resolve. The sweat building on your bodies was proof of your efforts to reach your end. But, God- Oh God– he just needed you to cum. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he finished before he got you off. He hoped you wouldn’t notice the desperation behind it, but as he captured your lips in a kiss, he snuck his hand between you to stimulate your clit. His hips were still snapping up into yours, all while he could feel you grinding down on him. It was like some sinful equation of lust and desire; his mind couldn’t bear to push through it any longer. It didn’t help that he noticed that your smothered moans transitioned into filthy whines stifled on his tongue. He could barely lift his head, solely focused on the place where you met in timed thrusts. He couldn’t bring himself to care that he broke away from the kiss, not with the fact that he could now shamelessly listen to your unfiltered moans bless the air, even if his breath was escaping him in leisured pants.

Like a wire under a blade, your orgasm snapped into place. If your choked sound of pleasure wasn’t enough indication, he was immediately aware by the tightness that was constricting him. The sudden feeling brought him to the precipice he had been stifling with his every ounce of will. His arms had wrapped you in an embrace upon the realization of what was to come, his nose buried so deep into your neck that all he could perceive was your scent. You waited for his orgasm to come to its end, ever aware of the warmth that was filling you. You noticed his entire body go slack, his frame melting into yours like a lost puzzle piece. His hair— deliciously tickling your neck.

You gathered your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck as you had before, brushing out his untempered curls. He made a sound of contentment, the haziness of it rumbling in your chest. His hands, which now hung loosely near the small of your back, drew featherlight drawings on your skin. With the slightest turn of your head, you placed a soft, yet ardent, kiss to his temple— resting there, so as to imprint your feelings into his very flesh and bone.

Carmy turns with a thoughtful look in his eyes, pausing as if to commit every detail of your face to his memory before reciprocating with a kiss that veiled a million words.

You breathe him in, smiling into the action and sensing it when he does the same. “So– how did we do?” you ask, breathless with your eyes still closed from the moment you shared. You open your eyes when he takes you into his hold, both of his hands cupping your face on each side of your jaw. The ‘SOU’ on his knuckles— visible to the slow-turning world around you. “I don’t ever want to lose you,” he whispers with his eyes still fixated on your lips.

You brightly smile, “---and you never will.”

#carmy berzatto #carmy deserves a hug #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x you #carmy the bear #virgin!carmy berzatto #kinktober #lazy ghouls kinktober

109 notes · View notes

rmoonstoner · 8 months

Text

Poisoned Empanadas

***

18+

Warnings:

Nauseated feeling mention, dirty talk, making out, fondling, dry humping, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, smut, biting scratching, overstimulation, voyeurism, masturbation, possiveness, emotional confusion, sexual confusion, sexual frustration, cream pie, angry and jealous boi, male masturbation, dubious consent?

***

Summary:

I think the warnings give it away significantly.

***

Chapter 7 - Empanadas de Cordero, Balearic Islands, Spain

This empanada has a yeast dough, made with eggs, lard/butter, flour, salt, olive oil, and lukewarm water. The filling of diced lamb and bacon,. You can put raw meat inside and bake it, but I prefer to roast the lamb in the oven first, or pan fry it with the bacon until crispy, then put it into the pastry, and bake that until golden and the dough is done. I like to brush a bit of the grease on top and sprinkle a bit of coarse sea salt on after, then bake.

***

You woke up in a dark room, your head on something soft, a nice smelling grey suit jacket? The room didn't appear to have any sort of windows, but there was enough light to clearly see it was a construction site, and that you were in an unfinished building. Tarps and ladders and equipment littered the floors, and yet it was eerily quiet. The only thing you could hear was your heart beat, and the faint sounds of the city that muffled from being a few floors underground.

"You sure did a number on yourself, mi estrella."

Your body went rigid as you heard that voice. You turned in the direction that it came from, seeing a man about Jake's height standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. One hand waved, and the jacket on the floor appeared in his hands, and tossed it over his shoulder, while the other was on the frame of the door. He had his sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms and that tattoo he had.

"J-Jake?" You managed to ask in a weak voice. He hummed and slowly walked over to you. He pulled out his phone and turned the flash light on so you could see him.

It took your breath away.

He was in that suit from your dreams. He looked so good and you were confused. Why was he dressed that way? Were his eyes glowing white?

"Si. The very same." He answered while grabbing you and bring you close.

"But you said you would be gone for a long time…" You almost whispered. His face softened up with a sad smile.

"I know. But I couldn't bear to be apart from you. I'm sure you got my messages. I deserve the lack of reply after how I left." He said in a murmur as he looked into your eyes.

"I was really going to leave you alone until tomorrow, but I happened to be in the area. I saw you, and… Well, I followed you. I saw when you got hurt. I saw it happen and I came rushing over when you went down. How's your head feeling?" Jake explained as he ran his fingers through your hair while he asked how you felt.

You closed your eyes and sighed. You missed his hands touching you like this, even though the voice in the back of your mind was telling you to yell at him, but you knew you wouldn't. Your happiness showed, because a bunch of smaller bubble like lights twinkled in the darkness of the room.

"I saw the messages. I was busy with superhero stuff." You mumbled back while closing your eyes. You felt dizzy and nauseous. The food you ate earlier was threatening to come back up.

"Right. Yeah…" Jake let out a deep exhale from his nose as he pinched the bridge of it.

"Look, I… I am really sorry…"

"Sorry? Sorry?!" You glared at him and spread your arms out. He just looked down at his lap, fidgeting with the snaps on his leather gloves.

"You're sorry. Right. I am sick of your shit, Lockley. I keep getting left behind. Like, look at you! Why are you wearing a bespoke suit?!" Your hands gestured to his clothing and he sighed again. You were shocked that his outfit matched the dream you had.

"Look, I… I should have told you what I really do at night."

"You're God damned right about that!"

"I deserve that. Well, erm… My boss is an Egyptian God."

"An Egyptian God?" Your glare softened and you blinked a few times. Jake nodded and pointed to his arm.

"This is his mark. It proves that I am in his service."

You made a face as you looked at his tattoo. You remembered asking Stephen about it, and he didn't say exactly what it was, but he was obviously suspicious about it. You knew he had lied to you about what it had said.

"What exactly does it say?"

"Uh, it s-says…" He nervously huffed while rubbing the back of his neck.

"It says; 'Rise and Live Again as My Fist of Vengeance. My Moon Knight. Property of Khonshu'." Jake's voice was flat as he translated the glyphs for you.

Your eyes narrowed and you squinted in the light that you produced. He looked like he was serious.

Very serious.

"You're not kidding, are you?" He shook his head and a mask slowly formed over his face.

You stared at his white eyes, the shoddy stitching over the one. You looked down his body, stopping to observe the fine, barely-there hieroglyphics that were printed on the expensive looking silk. You wondered what those said, as they covered the entire jacket, vest, tie, and pants that he wore.

"So you're… A knight of the moon?"

"Si. I am one of his knights. I personally go under the name of MidKnight."

"How many knights does Khonshu have?" When you asked that question, he frowned and looked away as he swallowed thickly. He fidgeted with his tie, and that's when you noticed gun holsters sticking out from under his arms on either side. He even had a couple knives on the back and sides of his belt.

"There are… There are three of us." He said softly as he looked back at you. You tilted your head.

"What are their hero names?"

"Mr. Knight. He looks like a white suited version of me. Then there is Moon Knight. He looks more… More like this-" As he spoke, his clothing changed to a darker suit. It now had a hooded cloak in white to match the white chest plate and bits of armor on his legs and arms. His mask became black, and only his eyes glowed in the void.

"- But his has a lot of wrappings and it's more traditional to the Egyptian culture."

"Wait. You have two suits?" You asked as your eyes looked over this one. This one was a lot more military in style. It was hard to imagine it covered in bandages.

"That's… Yeah. I get two suits. My fighting style is a combination of the other two, but a lot more brutal. I like having the tailored suit for certain missions, while this one has way more weapons." He chuckled as the suit changed back to the tailored one. The holsters all stayed in place.

"Wow. I see gun holsters and knives there. You hurt people?"

Jake slowly looked at what you were talking about. There were two handguns in each holster, and knives in each sheath.

"Si. I don't fuck around like the others do. I get the job done."

"Well you look like a new aged mobster."

"That's the look I was going for, mi estrella."

You both fell quiet as he shifted on his feet. As the seconds ticked by, he became even more fidgety. His gaze kept going to look out the doorway and down the hall.

"I like your costume. It looks beautiful and sexy on you. Muy caliente." Jake's voice had dropped a few octaves.

Your senses went off, not the Spider ones, but the sudden arousal that came on with the way he spoke to you. You could feel your body reacting to him the way it used to. Your nipples hardened as a shiver ran through your body. Even the way he was looking at you with his mask on his face and that suit on his body was turning you on. You could feel the slick forming between your legs, which caused you to shift uncomfortably.

***

Miguel had followed the man that had you all the way to an abandoned construction building. He was quiet as he slinked around after you, waiting for an opportunity to get you back without any more harm coming your way. He assumed that the kidnapper would be taking you to the upper levels, but he was surprised when the man went downstairs instead, and into an empty office-like room. It had cubicles, but nothing else. Bits of building supplies and garbage from the workers, but nothing really.

Miguel decided to go around and see if there was another entrance to that room. Maybe the hallway went all the way around it? He was stealthy as he ran down the hall and around the corner. He found another door, and luck was on his side, because the door wasn't even on the hinges in the frame yet. It was propped up against the wall beside it. It gave Miguel a bit of cover to look inside the room.

He saw a flash light and heard talking. He clearly heard you say 'J-Jake?' And his blood boiled. Miguel was careful to creep up as close as he could get, just a cubicle behind you and your captor.

The captor was apparently your ex-boyfriend. Miguel covertly peeked through a crack in the cubicle wall, eavesdropping as he controlled his breathing. He was floored to see the man in his dream was really your ex by the way he was dressed. Miguel listened to you to talk and he watched as Jake touched you.

Miguel wasn't happy to see that. He also wasn't happy to see your distress at being somewhere you didn't know, with your ex no less. Your mood shifted a few times as Jake explained that he was actually the Avatar for the Egyptian God, Khonshu.

When the talk about the weapons started to happen, Miguel's heart began to race. He didn't like guns or knives. His powers didn't help him much with those things. Sure, he was fast and dexterous, but he was still just learning how they worked.

Miguel didn't know this guy, or his attitude, except for what you had already told him. He could be trigger happy, and if he was a servant of a God, he probably had powers to go with it. Miguel cursed to himself. He didn't know much about the Gods of the past. Any of them, really. He only knew about a few, the ones he had purposely researched, like Thor and Loki.

"I like your costume. It looks beautiful and sexy on you. Muy caliente."

Jake's words brought Miguel out of his thoughts. While the man was right, you did look very hot, beautiful, and sexy, but he didn't have a right to just come in and shower you with flirtatious compliments like that. Not after what he did to you. He felt guilty that he hadn't warned you about him, earlier. Miguel wasn't even a hundred percent certain it was him. He just assumed the cabbie was. He fit the description that you had given him, despite not seeing his face. He had heard his voice and that nickname, and just knew it had to be Jake.

Miguel desperately hoped you would tell him you were fine and that you needed to go. He waited as he watched Jake kneel before you again. You stared at him, just like a deer caught in the headlights.

***

Jake was making you blush as he got down to your level and grinned. You gulped and scooted back a bit, only for him to grab your ankles and yank you right up flush against his body. You squeaked at the sudden action, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He pushed his face into your neck, his mouth by your ear.

"Mi amor…" Jake groaned hotly. That mask of his faded away, allowing his mouth to press against your skin. You could feel his hot breath tingle your ear and you could smell liquor and weed all over him.

His hands glided up your legs and to your waist where he gripped your hips tightly. He grinned and pushed you hard against him as he bucked upwards. That drew an involuntary moan from you as fire filled your belly and you became dizzy once more. You could feel his cock through the layers of fabric. He was hard and stiff, hot and pulsing.

"J-Jake... I…" You tried to speak, but his mouth hit a particularly pleasurable spot, and you moaned loudly as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

"I missed you so much. I thought about you everyday that I was away. I know it's hard doing what we do, and you do it here, in this big and dangerous city. I should have told you what I did. It was wrong of me to shield you from that. You had every right to know, and every right to help me if you wished. I am so sorry…" His husky voice started to spill forth the romantic word vomit confessions. His hands had moved quite quickly, and he was far more impatient than in the dream.

You had forgotten how straight to the point he was.

Speaking of points, you could feel his clothed cock nudge at the thin fabric of your suit. The action made you shudder and sent your hips bucking against him. That drew a deep groan from deep within his chest. The sound was carnal, and it shot a bolt of electricity through your body. You ached for him. Every nerve in your body was set on fire, receiving every pleasure response and turning it to overdrive.

And just like that, you had forgotten about the break up. You forgot that you sold or gotten rid of everything he had given you. You forgot that you moved out of his house and into the Sanctum. You forgot about the plan you had explicitly discussed with the wizards and the Spiders.

Alas, when you looked at Jake's face, all you could see was Miguel's.

You could even smell Miguel's scent quite strongly. You weren't sure if that was because you had spent the night fighting crime with him, but it smelled like he was right here in the room with you and Jake.

Were you hallucinating?

That's when the odd nagging and persistent feeling that this was wrong started to rear its ugly head. You should be stopping this from happening.

You turned your face away from Jake, now looking at the cubicles for an escape route as you tried to calm yourself and your breathing. Jake took that as a sign to lean down and go back to your neck, but on the other side from where he started. You squirmed while making a face that read clearly as trying to ignore the pleasurable feelings. It wasn't helping you any that Miguel's scent had somehow gotten stronger and more pungent since you first noticed it. It made your pussy ache with the position you were in.

You were confused.

You were very horny.

You didn't know what to do.

You didn't know what you wanted.

You missed Jake so fucking much.

You didn't want your friends to be disappointed in you.

You didn't want Miguel to think you were weak.

Jake was being very convincing, touching you in all the right places as he ground himself against you. You whimpered and moaned, then tried to push him gently. You tried to turn over to crawl away, maybe tell him to stop, but every time you opened your mouth, Jake would kiss you with a heated passion, like he was dying of thirst and you were his oasis to drink his fill from.

He somehow finally got the hint you wanted to flip onto your hands and knees, but he misread the signs badly. His hands shot out to grab at your hips and he went back to dry humping you like you weren't just trying to escape.

"J-Jake…" You tried to say his name to get his attention, yet it came out as a breathy whisper as his hand dipped into the juncture between your thighs.

"Mierda, you're so wet. You've soaked through your suit." His words made you shudder as his thumb glided over your clit. Jake was wearing the widest grin as he bucked into you. You exhaled as he pressed his gloved fingers against your opening, pushing the fabric in a bit. You mewled for him while his fingers stroked your swollen slit. His other hand came around and down between your legs to grab at your thigh. His fingertips moved, and he let out a chuckle as he found a hidden zipper flap along your inner thigh. The simple touch sent even more jolts of pleasure to your aching core along with the way he was touching you with his other hand.

"Ayo, what's this, then..?" Jake leaned down to whisper in your ear as his thumb found the tiny pull tab and flicked it a few times.

"What's this for? Is this a pocket?"

"N-no… It's, a-ahhh, Jake… It's the zipper for w-when I n-n-need to go to the bathroommm…"

"Oh, my… That's perfect." He groaned and bit your ear lobe. You gasped, feeling his dexterous fingers grab and tug at the zipper. He stopped with his other hand and pulled the fabric away from your skin as he kept unzipping your suit from one thigh to the other.

"Jake, wait. I- ahhh…" Again you tried to speak, to say he needed to hold on so you could discuss things with him, things like boundaries, but he was faster than you.

His fingers had dived into your cunt so fast, you couldn't even finish your sentence and only a strangled moan came out. Obscenely wet sounding noises filled the room as Jake plunged two fingers into your dripping hole while his thumb went straight to your clit. He rubbed where ever he could reach, both inside and out, and somehow managed to find both spots that triggered you to lose your fucking mind.

A long and animalistic moan erupted from your lips as you saw stars. Your eyes had rolled back into your head as your chest fell to the ground, cheek pressed to the cold cement floor as Jake expertly fucked you with his fingers. The scents of the room made your head spin. Jake's and Miguel's, so fucking strong, yet you were only aware of Jake's presence. Drool started to leak from the corner of your mouth as you came and shook.

Images danced in your head of both Jake and Miguel. Your mind couldn't quite decide what it liked more, but you felt like it wasn't fair to Jake. He had no idea that you were picturing another man doing this to you while it happened with him.

Apparently all the noises you were making only fueled Jake's desire more. You could feel one of his hands leave your backside, followed by the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle jingling and a metal zipper being pulled.

"That's my little star. So fucking beautiful."

You should have been panicking, but your body responded by jutting your hips out, presenting your aching need to him as you keened for him to continue.

"Just look at how wet you are for me... All for me." Jake growled as he stared into the darkness of the room, a wicked smirk on his face as he licked his lips.

***

Miguel was awestruck. He couldn't peel his eyes away from the filthy scene that was unfolding before his very eyes. There you were, being man handled by your ex, and you weren't trying to stop him.

A part of him, specifically his hard and throbbing cock, forced him to stay silent as he continued to peep at you through the crack in the cubicle walls. He felt guilty watching you in such an intimate manner, without your knowledge or consent. He told himself he was watching to make sure you were safe and that you wouldn't get hurt, but he fucking near better. He sucked in a breath when you moaned for Jake and he bit his lower lip.

"Mierda, you're so wet. You've soaked through your suit."

Those words hit Miguel harder than they should have. His cock twitched at the mention of just how wet you were. He could smell it wafting off of you and he was starting to drown in it. Jealousy was welling up inside of his chest.

He didn't quite see the desperate look on your face that showed you wanted to get away. Miguel misread that expression as arousal, which quite frankly it was a confused arousal, but arousal all the same. Even when you tried to turn over and get away from Jake, Miguel saw that you were trying to make it easier for the man to have his way with you.

More jealousy and arousal pooled through him as you were tugged against Jake and he pushed himself against you in slow and hard thrusts.

He watched as the other man slid his fingers along your groin, pressing them in, stroking up and down as you moaned. Jake found the zipper and he asked what it was for. You told Jake they were for easy access to using a bathroom without having to disrobe the entire suit, not for this…

This debauchery that was happening.

But now that Miguel knew what those fancy little zippers were there for, he couldn't stop thinking about them. He couldn't stop thinking about how easily you were being seduced by a man that broke your heart with barely a thought to you, when he was there and could offer you all of his spare time, which was a lot of it now that he was a Multiversal refugee.

A small growl came from him as his hand slowly wrapped around his erection through his suit. He gave himself a heavy squeeze as he watched Jake probe at you and unzip your suit. He went slack jawed when he saw Jake grab at your hips and dive his fingers in.

Your reaction was down right delicious.

Just watching how you came undone, dropping to the floor and crying out. That sinful sound made his cock throb and ache. He was now at the point of pulling it from his suit and stroking it in time to the squelching noises that were echoing through the room. Miguel glanced down at his dick in his hand and he could see that it was weeping generously with precome, dripping to the floor and throbbing steadily at every noise you made.

Thoughts of having you in that position clouded his mind as he swept his thumb over the head of his cock. He groaned as he squeezed himself and tugged a bit faster and harder, his balls twitching. Miguel inhaled the smells, and it made him harder as he realized the strongest one was yours. Watching you squirm and shake was making him wish was there instead of Jake.

Movement caught Miguel's eye. He witnessed Jake go for his pants and undo them in a swift motion. The sound of the metal made Miguel's head spin. You were really going to just let this guy have his way with you?

As upset as the thought made him, he continued to watch in morbid fascination. He wanted to know what you looked like while getting railed.

"That's my little star. So fucking beautiful."

Miguel could hear that delicious little whimper that came from you. He saw how you responded to everything. How you were shaking and holding yourself, ready and waiting for Jake to put his cock inside of you.

And then he saw it.

He witnessed Jake pull himself out and slap your ass and pussy with it a few times, the wet noise of skin on skin, your moans, and of course, the feral growl Jake was giving off as he spoke to you.

"Just look at how wet you are for me…"

Miguel groaned at that, giving himself a good stroke as he cupped his balls and gave them a tug. He completely missed the sudden shocked expression on Jake's face that vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

But he didn't miss the way Jake slowly turned his head in his direction, mid-sentence, and grinned wickedly, right at Miguel as Jake's eyes glowed that unnatural white.

Miguel froze and held his breath.

Jake had seen him.

He had to have.

There was absolutely no reason for him to look, otherwise. Miguel waited with baited breath, fully expecting Jake to stop and come at him, but instead, he kept speaking, not letting on to you that he knew someone else was there.

"... All for me."

Jake growled the words as he positioned himself at your waiting hole and slapped your ass with his gloved hand. The sound of it combined with your yowl of pleasure rang out and hit Miguel's ears, making him throb again.

His hand twitched as he witnessed Jake push into you. The way your mouth dropped open and how your back arched as you pushed back to get him deeper, made Miguel grip himself tighter. He could tell that Jake gave no fucks that someone was here, watching him dick you down.

Was he even aware of which one of your friends that Miguel was? Surely he had seen Miguel with you earlier…

Oh God.

He probably did see Miguel! He was with you all night, right up until you went down.

Jake was doing this on purpose.

He was still staring right at Miguel as he moved his hips slowly and deliberately. You kept squirming, panting as Jake ran his palm up your spine and over your suit. Miguel watched, fascinated as you keened and arched even more.

He loved how flexible you were.

"This pretty little pussy missed me that much, huh? Fuuuck. You're the best little cunt this body is ever gonna have."

Jake cooed to you gruffly. His eyes never left the direction where Miguel was.

"Do you know what you do to men like me? You drive them up the fucking wall, mi estrella."

He gave you an extra deep thrust as you panted and pushed back.

"You are so fucking sexy. So tight and hot. Mierda… "

He groaned the words as he snaked his fingers around your neck, giving it a squeeze, right before he pulled you up off of the floor and flush against his chest.

"I love this pussy, and I love you."

Jake said roughly. He started to pick up the pace while his hand slowly moved his fingers up to cup your chin. He turned you to face him and kissed you hungrily, his gaze not once leaving Miguel's.

Jake's hand went to your stomach, and he pressed down as he slammed into your gspot repeatedly. Your vision came back to you, and for a split second, when you looked over at the cubicles, you thought you could see Miguel's mask in the small space between the panels. Your pussy contracted when your eyes landed on one of his eyes, staring right back at you.

"M-mig-gueeel…"

A silent moan escaped your mouth. It was far too quiet for Jake to hear it, with him taking it as sexed out jibberish.

Yet Miguel heard it clear as day. He almost thought he had imagined it, but when Jake bit down into your neck, you wheezed his name again.

"Oh god… Mi-mig-Ahhhl."

In that moment, Miguel witnessed you crack again when an intense orgasm rippled through you. Your body shook, hands gripping Jake's hip and arm, your walls clamping tightly around Jake as you moaned loudly. Jake stilled for a moment while the spasms rocked through your body. You shook for a bit, then collapsed limply in Jake's arms and he held you close to him.

"That's it, hermosa. Te amo… Your walls are squeezing me so good. I could just about pop with the way you're digging your nails into my skin."

Jake leaned down and started to mouth at your neck as he pounded into you harder. You couldn't really see anymore as everything was blurred and full of dots. And there was Jake, bringing you right back to that peak so soon after jumping off. You didn't even fight it.

Miguel couldn't look away. He heard you say his name.

Not once, but twice!

He couldn't begin to describe how that made him feel. You were getting fucked and shown the time of your life, being ravaged by your ex, yet you called out for him.

Him!

The fucking idiot didn't even realize you had done it and just kept going. Miguel groaned, no longer caring that he had been seen, and that you had shown this moment of weakness. The point was, that you hadn't realized you saw him and you didn't know he was there.

And you called out his name, not Jake's!

He gripped himself tightly, stroking and pumping his fist while he watched your face contort and change rapidly. He closed his eyes, picturing himself with you, trying harder as if to make it real, just like in the dream.

The images of you with him made him feel like his life wasn't just a shit show. You made him feel like he belonged somewhere, like he didn't exactly wish to go home. Not anymore. Not only were you beautiful and strong in his eyes, you were smart and funny. You trusted him right away, regardless of the fact that he looked and sounded like Jake.

(Of whom by the way, Miguel would never trust with a ten foot pole with what he had found out about him, and his superhero persona.)

That trust had very quickly melted into infatuation. Maybe it was the slight obsessiveness of watching you and researching all about your Spider-sona. Maybe it was the fact that you were just simply nice to him and treated him like a person that mattered. Either way, he didn't like what Jake was doing. He didn't like the image of you with that man. He decided that Jake didn't deserve you right after meeting you, and seeing this scene play out made him angry that it wasn't him.

Miguel pictured you underneath him, in the same way Jake had you, and he felt his balls twist and pulse in his hand. Just the thought of waking up to your face every morning sent a shudder through his spine. Picturing that leading to morning sex and the loving words of affection that he'd murmur to you.

***

You were soaring so high on that feeling. Everything felt far too good. You hadn't been with anyone since the last time Jake graced your bed chambers, which was on the morning that he had left. Even that little tidbit didn't stop your happiness. You had Jake back now, and he said that he loved you!

More than once!

Maybe he would stay for a while. Maybe he would make things up to you. Maybe you could go back to the way things were, before he packed his bags and left…

***

Miguel was there.

He felt his orgasm coming and he panicked for a split second. He didn't have anything but his suit to catch the mess. In a quick act of thinking, he used his webbing to try and prevent that mess from occurring. His orgasm finally hit him hard and he shoved his fist into his mouth, biting down hard and breaking the skin as he filled the makeshift cloth he had made.

***

You inhaled sharply when Jake groaned loudly and he gave you one last hard and brutal thrust, before he came inside you. You gasped, feeling his spend spurt into you in thick gobs that quickly filled you to the brim and began to trickle out and down your thighs. As he shuddered and kept singing how much he loved you in his native tongue, he rutted and stirred your insides. He was trying to prod you as deep as he could while he emptied every last drop that he had.

Heavy breathing from both of you filled the room. Your heart beat thundered for what seemed like forever, before it slowed as you came down from your high.

Then that quickly trickled away into awareness.

What stopped your happiness and sheer joy, was the sudden image of Miguel's disappointed face appearing in your mind. How you expected him to scowl at you and scold you for what you had done, and how you let him, no, the entire team down for allowing this sleazy mutt to come crawling back into your life.

You realized what you had let happen, and you felt suddenly awful about it. Jake was panting and rubbing your sides as he kissed your neck where he left his mark. He whispered his apologies and held you tightly, rocking back and forth with you, with him still buried deeply inside of your still throbbing cunt.

You closed your eyes, listening to him mumble his thanks and affection to you. The feeling of him fucking into you desperately was both comforting and agonizing, and now that it was over, you sat there filled with regret. You felt the tears welling up behind your closed eyes and you held back the sob from coming out.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

***

Miguel was also in that predicament. He felt terrible for what just happened. He should have shown himself at the beginning and stopped it, but he didn't have the nerve to interfere when you hadn't been aware he was even there to begin with. He was too focused on watching the way you acted while being intimate, and he was not disappointed. He was disappointed it wasn't with him. He was disappointed that he had been a lecherous voyeur.

He looked down at the ruined webbing and made a face. It was a terrible idea, the webbing mixing with his come and creating a globby dripping ball. He saw his mistake. In his haste, he didn't make it tightly sealed. He quickly fixed that problem, by just covering the glob with more webs, until it no longer leaked. He smiled triumphantly and gave one last look at you, seeing your face.

He frowned.

You did not look happy.

You looked like you were going to cry.

***

"Galaxy-Spider!"

You suddenly heard your name being called. It sounded a lot like Gwen's voice. It was far away, like it was coming from the floor above you, her voice echoing down through the venting. You nudged yourself out of Jake's grip and stumbled sideways, hand going to brace yourself against the concrete wall. You huffed and looked down, frowning at the sight.

Your suit was wrinkled in all the wrong places. It had dirt and dust all over it. You were sure there was a tear or two from where you were hit in the head, and of course, when Jake had gripped it so hard. You could see the zipper was okay, and you prayed to the Gods it would zip back up.

"Where are ya, girl?!"

You heard Miles and he sounded closer than Gwen was. You panicked, because he was such a sweet young man, just barely of age. He didn't need to see you like this.

Looking further, you bit your lower lip when you saw the bruises from the night forming on your thighs. Some from patrol, but most of them from Jake. Your eyes flicked to your mound. It was a mess, come dripping down and streaking your legs. You inhaled sharply in an attempt to calm yourself, but all you could smell was spunk and sex.

"I know you're in here! I tracked your phone down!"

Peter yelled. His voice was coming down the hallway and around the corner.

Clean.

You needed to get clean enough to be presentable to the team. Clean enough so that no one would know what just happened. Maybe Jake would just go away after this, and you could pretend it never happened.

In a swift movement, you turned to look at Jake. He was still sitting, but now lazily leaning against the wall. He had one knee up, an elbow placed on it, while the other leg was outstretched on the floor. He had made absolutely no attempt to put his dick away or clean up, and instead, had gone for his cigarettes. He lit one and sighed, looking at you with a pleased grin. You didn't give him any sort of positive expression. You merely leaned down and plucked the pocket square out of his jacket, and began to clean yourself up.

Wordlessly, you did the best that you could to get rid of his evidence on you. You stared at the cloth for a moment and then looked at his face. He knew exactly what you were asking for. Another cloth, which he did not have.

"Use it more if ya have to. Heh." He laughed and shrugged, then waved his wrist as the fabric became clean again.

"I wasn't aware that you were a wizard." You replied as you again went back to cleaning, doing a much better job this time.

"I'm not. My suit is self cleaning. That's part of it." He replied and took a few more puffs of his smoke.

You could hear the voices of your teammates getting closer. It was sending more panic through you. It was even worse that you didn't hear Miguel's voice along with them. Did he run away and leave you to perish?

***

Miguel was moving away, retreating out the exit he came in. He knew the hallways went all the way around this room, so he doubled back, dropping his little webbed up package down a garbage disposal unit in the wall, then he went towards the opposite end of the building that Peter and the other Spiders were. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, checking himself in a pane of glass to see if he looked okay, then turned towards where he had just come from.

That's when he started to call out your name.

***

"I can use Khonshu's power to clean the suit. If I didn't, it would be red and dark brown all the time." Jake explained. As he spoke, you could hear the muffled sound of Miguel's voice calling out to you. You threw the pocket square on the floor next to Jake, then went about fixing your suit and doing it all back up again. As you did that, you saw that Jake grabbed the cloth and stuck it into his pocket, without cleaning it.

"Then why did you always come home filthy and stinky?" You asked, and again, heard Miguel shout out for you. He was much closer, maybe just down the hall.

"The suit is self-cleaning. It heals me and cleans itself on command. It doesn't bathe me." Jake's answer sounded almost sarcastic, but you could tell he was being truthful.

"Ah. I see. I wish I had a self-cleaning suit."

An uncomfortable silence permeated the room. He just kept puffing away slowly, not moving much as you heard footsteps and Miguel's voice getting closer.

"Put your dick back in your pants."

"My friends don't need to see that shit. And maybe put your mask on and get the fuck to your feet. They know what you look like, but they don't know that you're one of the knights of the moon." You snapped at him, and he scoffed while rolling his eyes.

Jake took one last long drag from his cigarette, then crushed it between his fingers, leaving the bits on the floor. He reluctantly did as you asked, tucking his cock back into his boxers, then standing up to do his belt and pants back up. Just as he did, Miguel got to the room, calling out one last time.

"I'm in here!" You called back with a hoarse voice, then mouthed at Jake to put his mask back on. He did that as well, and didn't say a word as Miguel came strolling into the room and stopping at the doorway.

"Ah, there you are. Are you alright?" He asked as you fidgeted with your hood. You were trying to hide a tear by your neck where Jake had gnawed through the fabric. Miguel's eyes darted to Jake's and he frowned behind his mask. Jake didn't speak, and he crossed his arms and stayed against the wall.

"Y-yeah. A little shaken. MidKnight here helped me out." You motioned to Jake with both hands. They were slightly shaking, as was the rest of you.

Miguel reached out and grabbed your shoulder gently, then tugged you towards him. It was then that your friends arrived through a third side entrance in the room. They watched as Miguel made a show of inspecting your head and when he was finished, he gave a grunt of approval.

"Okay. He's done his job, then. I'll take you from here." Miguel's tone was firm, like he wouldn't allow any sort of protest. Jake just shrugged.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll see ya around, Galaxy-Spider." Jake replied as he picked up his jacket and put it on. He turned away and left, not a sound coming from him as he waved one hand up in the air and sauntered away.

Miguel felt your entire body relax the moment Jake was out of sight. You slumped against him and yawned as you rubbed your eyes. The others started to rapidly ask if you were okay, and what had happened. You barely heard them as you buried your face into his shoulder, trying to shrink away. His heart panged for you, realizing that you didn't exactly give Jake any sort of consent. Jake just took what he wanted from you, with barely any thought of your mental and emotional well being. Miguel could tell you were done for the time being.

You needed rest.

Miguel didn't have the heart to tell you he watched what happened. Instead, he hoisted you up into his arms and turned away from the group.

"She had a nasty blow to the head. She needs to see the doctor and rest." While it was true that you took a hit to the cranium, he knew you were fine. At least physically, anyways. He was hoping you might have the courage to tell Stephen what happened. He felt that it wasn't his place to say anything just yet. He would take you home, talk to the doctor, then stay with you until you awoke.

***

Series Masterlist

***

Notes:

I made my self so god damned fucking horny writing this chapter and I can't even bang my husband, because of his hip surgery! Please enjoy this and comment! Comments fuel future writings.

This Jake is very proficient with moulding and shaping the suit to his will. I really enjoy him being able to have Steven's suit in a dark grey and shades of black, or the one we see in the comics.

***

Special thanks to:

Beta readers/Ideas:

@einno-arko @theaussiedragon

Proof reader:

@iceclaw101

***

Tags:

@theaussiedragon @autismsupermusicalassassin @readingfan @missdragon-1 @marvelescvpe @lunar-ghoulie @cicithemess2000 @animesnowstorm @mahbeanz @dafuqelaine @bby-lupin @paranoiac-666 @konniebon @cl0v3r-s0up @seraphine-so-pretty @jupitersmoon167 @butterflypillows @ivystoryweaver @mintellaine @bxdbxtxh15 @badbishsblog @cleothegoldfish @xxmadamjinxx @bitchyexpertprincess @sakurayuki8655-blog @jklkverr @jkthinkstoomuch @oscarissac2099 @neteyamsluvts

122 notes · View notes

malice-ov-mercy · 5 months

Text

All Bark - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

This was a request:

Anon: 👀 well.. if you might be so kind and interested, and might be down to feed us so well, I really loved All Bark and wondered if you might make a part or fic where reader treats Noah like a slut too?

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader (x Will Ramos)

Content Warnings: 18+!, smut, unprotected (p in v) sex, voyuerism (??? kind of, maybe??? Idk), sub!Noah, dom!Reader, brief mention of choking, spitting, crying (not a lot, but I feel I should tag it)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write more for this honestly, and this request gave me the perfect excuse to do so. One day I’ll hopefully fully flesh out this idea of mine, but until then, enjoy the sporadic bit and pieces of it. I hope you like it, anon!!

Word count: 1k

Tag list: @circle-with-me @xxrainstorm @foliosriot @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @reader13000 @sammyjoeee @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier

If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Will Ramos.

————————————

Will Ramos Masterlist

Noah Sebastian Masterlist

————————————

“Don’t mind me,” Will said innocently, leaning against the door frame. “I’m happy to watch.”

His smile was coy, but the desire and lust glowing behind his eyes tarnished the shy facade. I glanced down at Noah whose dark, glazed over eyes were fixed on Will. For a moment, it was like I wasn’t even there. Ever since they made up, their dynamic changed. Noah followed him around like a lovesick puppy and constantly sought his attention. It was the cutest thing and I couldn’t help but playfully tease him, telling him how proud I was that Will “managed to set him right.”

“Noah, baby,” I called, bringing his boba eyes back to me, “I’m your focus right now.”

I softly pressed my hand to his throat when he tried to argue, cutting off any and all retorts. The pressure was light, but it was enough to restrict his breathing if his attempt at a gasp was anything to go by.

“Be a good boy and listen to (Y/N).” Will interjected.

“Don’t you want to show Will how good of a slut you’re being for me?” I leaned down and bit his neck, covering the hand tattoo with my mouth.

Will knew exactly how much of a slut Noah could be and had become. After all, he was the one who awoke this side of Noah. He’s the one who got him to blossom into the slutty little siren he was now.

Noah whined and thrust into me. I moaned, completely forgetting he was balls deep inside. He reached for my clit, but I slapped his hand away.

“No touching.” I planted my hands on his chest and started bouncing, moving with his thrusts. If Will wanted to watch, I wanted to give him a show.

My head fell back when Noah’s cock hit the sensitive spot deep inside my pussy.

“Right there, Noah,” I gasped as he hit it again. “Fuck!”

Pleasure coursed through my body, loud breaths and high pitched moans gliding past my tongue. I raked my nails down his chest to his belly. My legs were weak from the force of his pounding and my own movements.

“Can I please touch you? Please?”

Noah begging was a beautiful sound, one I could definitely get used to. I almost caved but I wasn’t happy with him yet. I needed more from him.

“Open your mouth.” I demanded.

He obeyed, even sticking his tongue out for me. I smiled sweetly at him then leaned down, opening my own mouth and spit directly in the back of his throat. Noah choked briefly, his dick throbbed as I spit in his mouth again. A whine so pathetic and needy erupted from his throat when I spit in his mouth a third time.

“That’s a good little slut.” His face flushed at the derogatory praise.

I slid my middle fingers in his mouth and told him to suck. He did so happily. His tongue flicked and swirled, coating them in his saliva. I loved the way his tongue moved.

“He’s really good at that.” Will chimed.

Noah whimpered when I started rubbing my clit with the fingers that were just in his mouth, no doubt wishing it was him touching me. I was close to cumming already and I had an inkling he was too.

“Noah,” I groaned, “I’m so close.”

“He’s been patient, (Y/N),” Will said, stepping into the room and standing by the side of the bed. “Let him touch.”

Noah’s eyes were pleading, desperate. He looked an absolute mess. Small tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Seeing him nearly crying filled me with a sick pleasure.

“You can touch.”

He instantly swatted my hand away and replaced it with his. His fingers worked blindingly fast, circling and rubbing my clit. My head dropped forward as I braced myself, hands planted on either side of his head as he relentlessly pounded into my cunt. My whines and whimpers mixed with his as we chased our orgasms together.

“Can I cum?” Noah choked out.

“Ask Will.”

“Will, please.” Noah cried, tears trickling from his eyes.

Will hummed, acting like he was thinking about it. He shook his head. “Not yet, not until she does.”

A frustrated sound tumbled from Noah’s lips. His fingers moved even faster at my clit, desperate to make me cum so he could. My mind started going blank, intense euphoria sparking in my gut. The feeling spread to my toes then my chest, and I unleashed with a loud shout of Noah’s name. I struggled to breathe through the force of my orgasm, my body twitching and jerking wildly.

Noah’s thrusts became increasingly erratic and powerful. Skin slapping skin echoed off the walls of our room. The bed shook beneath us. Noah’s jaw tensed and then he wrapped his long arms around me in a bone crushing embrace.

He came hard with a feeble whimper muffled against my skin. His legs trembled as his cock pulsed and emptied deep inside me, coating my walls with his seed. Soft grunts and whines emitted from his throat. It almost sounded like he was crying.

I pulled myself up to look at the puddle of a man under me. Noah was indeed crying. My hands cupped his face trying to offer comfort.

“Are you okay, Noah?” I asked, worry on my voice and expression.

He nodded with a weak smile. “I’m fine. Promise.”

Noah turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I pecked his lips.

“What about me?”

Noah and I glanced over to Will. He was holding washcloths and pouting. We shared a chuckle.

“I love you too.” We said simultaneously.

Will smiled and walked towards us, tossing a washcloth to Noah. He sighed contently as he draped it over his face. I crawled off of him, wincing as I felt his cum spilling out of my pussy. Will’s eyes dilated at the sight.

“No condom?” He whistled. “Noah’s really delivering on the slut front.”

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #will ramos fanfiction #will ramos fanfic #will ramos fic

78 notes · View notes

wroteclassicaly · 2 years

Text

Sometimes

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, the only remedy for a bad day is Eddie Munson.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Eddie, brat taming, slight breeding kink, some aftercare, fluff, oral sex, and MORE!

A/N: Hi! I know I owe y’all Virgin!Eddie, among other things, but since I’ve been having a tough time at work (and I know y’all can relate), I thought this is more fitting? It’s just a domestically soft Eddie and comfort filth, lol. I posted the teaser for it last night! Hope y’all enjoy? Much ❤️

~*~

Eddie can see it within your eyes that you are attempting to conceal your negative energies. The thing is, he doesn’t want that. It’s a pact of honesty that you two share, even before you became a couple. Be honest. No more, no less.

Okay, maybe more. Sometimes…

But today you’re not abiding by said pact. No, on this Autumn afternoon in Hawkins, Indiana, you are storming into Eddie’s trailer after your shift ends, and immediately making a beeline for the chilled wine his Uncle Wayne (you adore that man) keeps in stock for you. Eddie approaches with caution, not really out of fear, but respect for your boundaries as a whole individual. He knows when his antics aren’t needed.

Sometimes…

You’re just finishing up brimming your chipped mug full when Eddie enters the cove of the small kitchen. He’s a sinful sight for your sore eyes. Black slacks hang off his hips, chain wallet tucked safely into his back pocket, opposite that bandana peeking out of the other side, a charcoal flannel undone three, maybe four buttons, rolled up at the sleeves, helping to accessorize his tattoos and that chain link bracelet, his signature rings adorning his fingers, and something new. It shines against that slight tuft of chest hair, nestled between his collar bones, drawing attention to your leftover hickies from last night. Frowning, your cup being settled behind you is an echo as you make your way into Eddie’s airspace, immediately invaded by hair gel, cigarettes, cinnamon from his earlier edible baking activities, and that musky cologne scent he has taken to using lately.

You can’t resist, his curiosity causing a glow to shadow his chocolate irises with amusement. He speaks before you. “Yes?”

“What is that?” You’re reaching into his shirt and fondling the jewelry, letting its cool material drape over your fingers.

“Oooh, come home to steal a feel? Am I that cheap to you, sweetheart?”

You stare at him with point blank annoyance, yet a hunger that knows no bounds. Familiar, always like coming home and being held in the softest bed, with the warmest blankets and the fluffiest pillows. Only, Eddie’s chest is your bed, his body heat is your blanket, and those arms usually end up as your pillows. You flick the chain, fingers hovering over his undone top, peering into the fabric and seeking out what he’d never let himself not remember to wear.

“If you’re tryna undress me, just say the word, baby. You know I can put on a good show for you—“

You press a finger to his lips. “Will you shut up, please?”

He growls and nips the skin of your digit, making you raise a brow. “Eddie, where’s your pick? And what is with this?” You shake his new necklace in slight exasperation, emphasizing your need to know.

He catches on, smirking. “Oh, you mean this little ol’ thing?” He adds two of his own fingers next to yours, wiggling the chain off your grasp and jiggling it into his palm.

When you pinch the bridge of your nose, he gives.

“Pawn shop downtown. Remember I was going to see about some newer amps? Just caught my eye, s’ all. Pick is in my room, safe and sound with Sweetheart. She needed the company anyways.” A brief pause. “You sayin’ you don’t like it?”

Your mood is briefly obliterated at his slight anxieties. He’s so cute that your knees feel shaky and weak, butterflies on a slip and slide around your tummy. You hook a finger beneath the silver and tug him forward, nose nudging his own. “Quite the contrary, Munson.”

He hums an appreciative understanding, licking his pearly whites as your noses swipe across the other on the break away. You want to bite him… all over. He’s crashing your horny thoughts, motioning to your forgotten cup. You’re still holding his accessory, eyes wandering to where he’s directing.

“Bad day?” His voice is a comforting rasp, soaked in honey and soothing your every need.

You can only nod, pressing your forehead into your own knuckles, trapping your hand between your face and his chest. You’re mumbling unintelligible snark and becoming anxiety ridden once more. Eddie feels the tension before he sees it, his arms winding around you and beginning to knead at the large knots he finds. It worries him when you still don’t answer. He can’t say he isn’t prone to pushing, because he’s been vocal and without tact when it’s most appropriate.

Sometimes…

“Princess?”

You pull away from the safe confines of his soft tummy, his welcomed arms, and freshly laundered (so he did remember to do the laundry today) flannel, going back to your mug with your back facing your boyfriend. Taking an opening, albeit, brief — Eddie presses his chin over top of your shoulder, his arms sliding around your waist, clasping his fingers together above your navel. The silence of your sips are what you hear for the next few minutes, along with that coo coo clock Wayne had just bought last week at a Yardsale. Eddie, of course, breaks it first. “Honey?”

Leaning forward and out of his hold, you rinse your mug and leave it for a later washing, bypassing Eddie and heading to your shared (you’re here most days) bedroom. He runs a hand through his shaggy curls, following hot on your heel. Your back is facing him when he enters the doorway, fingertips tapping idle beats on the framework. You can feel his doe eyed stare on your back and it only presses the guilt further into your stomach, which is summoning more irritation. Heaving in a deep sigh, you swivel on bare feet, toes curling in the carpet.

“Eddie, what do you want me to tell you? It’s not even that big of a deal, okay?”

“No, Y/N.” Forgoing pet names in favor of your real name, you know you’ve upset him. “Remember what we—“ He motions between the two of you with his hand, before continuing. “agreed on?”

You roll your eyes and that darkness begins to simmer behind his irises. You lick your lips before you can even think twice about the implications the action will cause. He steps forward on worn combat boots, swaying into your space. “So we’re going to act like a fuckin’ brat today, huh?”

“Maybe I will. What are you gonna do about it, Eddie?” It’s a huffing challenge as you attempt to meet his lanky stance, putting emphasis on his name.

“Sweetheart… you’re makin’ it real hard not to bend you over and split your cunt apart on my cock. But you know that, don’t you?” His pupils are dilating, leaving behind specks of maple.

“And if I do?”

Eddie tuts, finger filtering beneath your chin. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re sassing me every time I ask you what’s goin’ on. And while I find your cock thirst endearing, your well being is priority here.”

Inhaling a jagged line of air, you fold onto your mattress. “I know, I know. We agreed to tell each other if shit was wrong.”

Eddie kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his, thumbs rubbing your palms. “Your bullshit day is my bullshit day, baby. Whatever is going on, I want to know about it, yeah?”

“But it’s so stupid, Eds—“

“Hey, look at me, princess.” His tone leaves no room for argument. You do as told and then he’s continuing. “Nothing about you or your life is stupid. If you feel somethin’ then you need to feel it with that whole heart of yours. Then we can worry about shuttin’ off this brain, cause’ she’s always on the run.”

Your eyelids flutter closed as Eddie zones in on you, large hands cupping your cheeks, nose smooshing yours. Your fingers find that silver chain, pulling.

“I had a bad day.” you whisper.

Eddie strokes his thumb pad along your brow bone, lips plush and parched, aching to be kissed, or is that you between your thighs? He nods. “And how can we make it better?”

Teamwork work and togetherness, another mantra Eddie has for you two.

Eddie Munson may play dumb, but he isn’t ignorant. He’s well aware of what you want. What you need. His thumb swipes down your cheek and finds the corner of your mouth, sinking inside. You suck on the digit, tasting nicotine and nutmeg.

You begin a swirling rhythm around his calloused digit, fingers curling underneath the chain and into his chest hair, scratching at his flesh. He’s closing his eyes and taking it in, groaning. You’re one pleased cookie. Humming around him, you release it, hand climbing from his sternum to his neck, pushing up and through his shaggy mane, tugging until his neck is bared and offered to you. He hisses through clenched teeth. “Atta girl, take what you fuckin’ need. Gonna help my pretty love forget all about this shit day.”

You’re like a woman starved, desperation slapping you in your cunt. Eddie is smirking at your impatience to getting his shirt unbuttoned, but he doesn’t help you, privy to your momentary desire to lead. When it’s finally off and pooling onto the floor, you can hardly deal with the debaucherous sight in front of you. That silver chain is thick around his neck, not too much, but enough, showcasing all of his delicious tattoos. You’re panting heavily, eyes blurring with tears of raw want.

Eddie is glad he decided to trade an older amp to afford the new piece, admiring your shameless observation of him, as if he’s your meal and you’re about to descend like a vulture. However, you’re a goddess, a strength for those around you (Eddie included), so vulture isn’t a correct comparison. Your pupils are gone beneath two black oceans, a ravenous gravity sucking you into Eddie. He’s waiting…jugular exposed for your taking. You launch into him full on, chest to chest, and you take.

Your mouth is biting a pattern of plum colored bruises up the hollow of his neck, flicking your tongue across his jugular, sucking his Adam’s apple, enjoying its bobbing beneath your muscle. Your left hand cups his necks’ nape, the other remaining fisted in his chain. He’s whimpering appreciatively, swelling in the confines of his sleek slacks. “Oh, fuck. That’s it, sweetheart. Show me who I belong to.”

That really revs your engine, your posture caving in and falling back onto the bed, taking him between your knees as he hovers, his necklace pressing into your mouth in a brief dangle. He giggles, poking your nose, lacing his hands through yours and pinning them above you, burrowing that plump set of lips under your jawline.

“Eds… Yeah, Eddie. Fuck, baby boy.” Your pleas go straight to his dick, which he takes your hand and slithers it down to cup over his bulge, rutting against the friction. He chokes out that little moan he does, it vibrating off your throat.

“You want me, m’lady? Want me to pry open these perfect thighs and fuck you nice and slow, fuck you good and stupid for me?”

You whine, arching with a sting to your spine at the steep angle. Eddie grips your chin, rings jutting into the skin. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“You know I need you, Eds. Want…” And you stop yourself, heart rate slowing, body feeling as if you’ve tumbled down a cliff and are free falling. It’s pretty clear the exact craving you’ve just realized you’re having to have. But you’re unsure about Eddie’s reaction, or if he’ll be upset. After all, you’ve never been risky in that way.

Eddie sees the change immediately and picks himself up, bringing you along. “Honey, what’s wrong? And please, please don’t say ‘nothing’. Don’t bullshit me, babe, cause’ I know you better than the back of my own hand, and that sucker has seen some shit in his time.”

“It’s nothing bad.” you start. “At least, I don’t think so…”

He frowns. “Is it… y’ know, hanky panky related?” He says the words in a teasing depth, making you lose yourself in a giggle. It helps tremendously. You incline your head in a manner that tells him, yes, it is indeed.

“Then lay it on me. Literally. I’m all yours, babe.” He entwines his fingers with yours, bringing them to his mouth to press chaste kisses to.

There’s a roaring that’s pummeling your adrenaline, heart beat thumping in your ears, a cold chill brushing your flesh. You let yourself swallow once for good measure, tongue licking your lips, and then you release it into the open air.

“Eddie, I want you to cum inside of me. No condom this time, just you.” You look at him beneath your lashes, vision hazy, heart rate stalled, caught between the sheets with baited breath as you await his answer.

Eddie’s surprise is evident on his face. A thoughtful pause, a lip purse, and then his tongue is poking out in concentration. And as if it’s not anymore possible than it’s already been shown — his pupils expand, leaving murky caverns in their wake. He inhales sharply, beginning to lean in to cage you like fresh prey, his tone raspy and compliant. “It’s pretty dangerous letting a guy like me fuck you without protection, don’t you think? I mean… what if I put a little one in here?” He touches your tummy over the t-shirt you’re wearing.

“Then she or he will have the prettiest eyes and the curliest hair. But we don’t have to worry about that right now. I’m on the pill too, remember? We’re just… taking away one layer?” Is your automatic response, trembling into his hold, burning up at the thought of his child growing inside you, making something that’s yours and his alone. You think about it. Eddie thinks about it.

Sometimes…

Eddie, still trapped in motion due to his surprise at your proposition, is having a hard time not pouncing on you and pounding you into the mattress on the spot. He slides between your split knees, thumbs brushing along each corner of your mouth. You don’t have to say anything more to convince him, his unbearable hardness is proof enough. Your hands fumble behind you to slip underneath your top and fling it off, it landing somewhere in the room. Eddie attacks your exposed shoulder, snapping his fingers beneath your bra strap and tugging it down until it slips off.

You hold him to your bosom by the back of his neck, helping yourself to pulling on his hair, enjoying the tresses weaving in between your fingers. His new chain traces along your skin as it dangles, drags, a cool stimulant. You let him work on your jawline and neck with that god given mouth full of perfection and promise, working your spare hand down and into your pants, going straight inside your soaked underwear. It’s a sweet sigh that tumbles from your mouth when you make contact with your clit, swirling a bit of slick around the bud and mewling. Eddie’s smacking noises cease, his eyes drifting to your naughty show.

He’s marveling. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Play with your little pussy for me.”

“So fucking wet for you it’s disgusting, baby boy.” You coo, yanking at his stray curl.

He drops his nose to yours, sharing trickles of hot air onto your mouth from his. “Add a finger inside of yourself.”

He peers to watch your hand shift and that overly embarrassing first squelch inside is loud. Eddie takes your mouth roughly, rolling his hips into your trapped hand, thrusting for a form of relief, whatever that may be.

“Don’t have to be jealous of your pretty little fingers when they get to fuck that cunt, cause’ now I’ll know how it feels with —“ He nips your neck. “nothing but skin.”

“Where you belong…” You trail off into a simpering whimper.

“Just think about how you’re gonna feel every single inch of me, Y/N.” It’s a quiet beat and Eddie is flipping you with that hidden strength he possesses, tugging your legs off the bed. Hand still in your panties, on your stomach, you don’t stop touching yourself for him, lifting your hips so he can take off your pants and panties, as you greedily thrust that finger in and out of your cunt.

“You’re not sharing.” You are well aware he is staring, but you’re far too gone, especially within this vivid position.

“Eat me, Munson.” You pant, adding a second finger, trying to get yourself ready to take him.

“Why? You want me to, brat?”

Your eyes widen and you don’t have time to answer, Eddie’s hands hoisting your knees into a propped position, backhanding your ass cheek, the flesh taking the brunt of his rings. He buries his face into your dripping cunt, biting your fingers as they slip from you, mumbling about how you bugged him to do the laundry and now you’re both gonna destroy the clean sheets. You only respond by reaching back and pulling his face into you, no longer shy about taking what you want, what’s yours. Eddie is slurping sloppily, smothering himself in your juices, encouraging you to ride his face like it’s your last day on earth. With your hand on the mattress, the other threading through his long locks, you rock your hips until it burns to stay upright, that tightening knocking on your abdomen far quicker than you’re prepared for.

You begin to shake, thighs closing around his head, messing the blankets up from your burrowing ride. “M’ gonna cum on your mouth, Eds. Please, please.

His answer is to add in two of his fingers, sucking your clit in between those plump lips. Your vision swims with shapes as you hold yourself, rubbing your cunt over that slight stubble, riding his fingers, his rings catching on your labia only adding to your climax. Eddie’s downright moaning into your pussy when you cum, releasing your grip on his mane and falling forward in the beginning stages of exhaustion. You roll back over onto your back, clad in just your bra, knees wide open, a smile decorating your wet mouth. Eddie is bursting at his very seams, pride and love for you, pure adoration.

He climbs over top of you, slotting himself between your thighs, hand cradling your jaw and fingers splaying over your ear, his mouth and chin covered in your arousal. He grins and you stifle a giggle, kissing him, palming his rock hard cock over the slacks. “Poor baby, do you need somethin’?”

Eddie licks his teeth, pins your hands above your head. “Mouthy little witch. My own personal enchantress, the way you tease me so.”

“I can tell it’s… hard to take.” You wiggle a suggestive brow.

Eddie releases your hands, then lifts you enough to unsnap your bra, choosing that as his comeback to your continuous sass. You’re completely nude under him, nipples reacting to the temperate change and stimulating drag of his chest across yours, chest hair tickling you. You take the opportunity to work on his pants, getting them down with his boxers, his cock getting caught on the fabric. You give it a gentle tug and it’s slapping against his stomach, smearing pre-cum in his happy trail. You can’t stop yourself from what’s to come, imagining how warm it’ll feel, how his cum will soak your walls, furthering his claim.

You slide his cock through your folds, slapping it into the wetness, pushing the soft head against your clit and closing your legs. You can’t speak, it’s all so much right now. Luckily, Eddie takes care of that for you both.

“S’ a real good girl. Letting me cum in your pussy like this.” He’s watching your movements, stomping his legs in kicks and getting his remaining clothing off, holding himself up on his palms, working his cock back and forth in your swollen folds. It’s a sticky, dripping mess.

Normally, this is the point Eddie would reach for a condom, but instead, he looks towards the drawer. “Still okay if I take you without one, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Wanna see you, though.”

Eddie reluctantly pries himself away, hobbling rather comically into a cross-legged position, holding himself at the patch of dark curls. “Come and take your seat, baby.”

That pitter patter latches onto your insides, yanking them into your ass. You feel your cunt drizzling your slick as you make your way towards Eddie and climb onto his lap, locking your ankles around his waist, shifting just so. He taps his fingertips against the swell of your breast. “Don’t hold your breath, baby. Don’t close your eyes, either. I want you to look at me when I put my dick inside of you.”

“O-okay. Hurry, I need you, baby boy.”

You spread your labia apart as Eddie complies, tapping the head around your opening, pushing it past the muscle and into the soft, slippery heat of your cunt. It hurts, badly. This deep angle, the defined stretch you get off on. And there’s no barrier to get in the way. It’s all Eddie, it’s all you.

His eyes are wide and his jaw is slack. His abdomen tenses, muscles flexing. He pulsates inside you the second his balls rest against your ass. Your quivering breaths are broken and speech is beyond your capabilities. Eddie snatches your hands that have unknowingly clenched into the bedsheets beside you, squeezing, forehead dropping atop yours.

His lips pucker for an easy kiss, nuzzling your nose. “Holy Christ, baby. I can’t believe how fuckin’ warm and wet it is in here.”

You don’t mean to, but you clamp down on him, causing him to rock his hips and a hiss leaves your mouth. “Shit, shit. We just gotta stay still for a few, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you, princess. And m’ in pretty deep this time.”

You whine in agreement, eyes trailing down to the chain that rests between your breasts that stay squished into Eddie’s tattooed chest. You don’t dare look away, both of you wanting to partake in the intensity of this intimacy. Eddie holds you, peppering kisses here and there on your face and neck until the burn dulls into that aching sting. He cups your jaw, stroking his fingers along your jugular. “Ready to be fucked raw?”

His double ended meaning has you snorting, purposely bearing down on him and rolling your hips. A combined gasp is heard. It’s the fullest you’ve felt, and the most safe. Eddie is thick and hot inside you, nestled heavily in the sopping wet confines of your walls. It’s overwhelming and he knows it too. Placing one hand on your lower back, the other keeping yours held, he tilts his head as if to ask permission. “Yeah?”

“Fuck this bad day right outta your brat, Eds. Cum in her greedy little pussy. Show her who owns it.” You finger the chain with your spare hand, nails scratching at Eddie’s knuckles, circling the ring shapes that adorn his fingers.

“You and that nasty mouth, princess. Remind me to fuck it later, hmm?”

Difficult to establish in this new position you’ve rarely tried, it takes a few minutes to gain a rhythm that is driving Eddie as deep as he can go, his cock nailing that spongey spot inside of your cunt. It takes everything in you to hold on and to not push him on his back and have your way with him like your own personal rodeo. His chest is perspired and flushed, his freckles more prominent, his pupils reflective through the haze of his lust, and his curls tangle to his forehead. He’s giving slowly, languid thrusts that wreck you from head to toe, and you are beckoned into his every push on your waist, guiding you through.

Your toes are curling, a cold tingle snapping at your thighs, blood rushing, heart rate churning. Eddie lets go of your connected hands to accompany the feeling of your oncoming orgasm, as he recognizes the familiar signs, and feels you getting tighter around him, drowning his dick in your cream. His strokes your clit with expertise, mouth hovering over yours, just so. “Know you’re gonna cum, princess. You’re so fucking wet that I don’t think I can last much longer for you.”

You knot your grip into his hair, tugging it to the side and licking a crude stripe up his neck, finding the shell of his ear. “Then lay me down and… what were your words again? Fuck me stupid?”

Eddie makes a rogue noise, falling back onto the bed and shoving you beneath him, nudging your legs apart roughly, holding his soaked dick and pressing it back into you. His slick covered happy trail drags your clit with every upstroke and it’s totaling you, your eyes rolling back. Eddie is cursing, powering through it. “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s it, wanna know how it feels like this when you cum. Just like that.”

Your back arches, legs lifting around Eddie’s slender waist, hands clenching into his shoulder blades, and that coil tightens into such a sharp ache that your eyes fill with tears and you cry out his name like a mantra on the day of worship. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!”

Your orgasm pouring over his cock is enough to smack his insides into a frenzy. He reaches for your breasts, palms them, then seeks out your hands. He’s extra needy. That means he’s close, right there.

“I’m… Y/N, baby. Can I, PLEASE?”

“Cum inside me, Eds. Come on, baby boy.” You lick at his mouth, his stuttering hips stalling and his ass flexing beneath your ankles.

You cry out when he tenses up and throbs, a warmth spurting thickly throughout your cunt, mixing in with your orgasm, Eddie letting a drawn out moan work itself from the depths of his diaphragm. Too fucking good to speak anything but a broken syllable of your name. “Y/N…”

He falls into your body, sex tainted skin sticking together, hearts racing wildly. You brush his hair back, kissing the crown of his forehead. He pecks your neck, fitting his face into the curvature of your neck and shoulder. Neither of you say anything, enjoying the sound of the Autumn breeze outside and labored breathing attempting to stabilize. It goes on like that for what feels like hours, but Eddie lifts his head to check in with you.

“Are we feeling any better?”

Sometimes… Eddie Munson is all you need to make a bad day better.

~*~

#kristenwrites #my writing #my work #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 smut

832 notes · View notes

dde719 · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Ot7 demons x yn (brown skin girl- written for a friend)

WC: 2.4k

Demons

Oral sex female receive, male receive

Masterbation

Dream sequence

Rough kissing, rough sex

Nipple play

Growing dicks

Anal sex, anal play(prepping)

Circle jerking

Warm cum

Split tongue with rings

Cock ring

Voyeurism

Breeding kink

Sorry if I missed anything

AN: Hey everyone. This was a one-shot that I created in the summer of last year. I had a friend who encouraged me to get into more descriptive writing. It was the first time I wrote about demons, so it may be a little shaky. I wanted to edit this and finally put it out. This is the last of my early works and yes I am equally proud of everything I create. I hope you all enjoy it and there was no true inspo behind this other than, "what scenario can I make." The person I made it for did not want a solid plot, just descriptions. Basically, porn without a plot, if you're going to read, welcome if not. I do have other stories that have more detailed plots. Thank you so much and have a wonderful day lovelies.

Another night, laid in your room. Thinking about the members of bangtan fucking you senseless. You couldn't help but get your vibrator and pressed it hard onto your clit. Moving it back and forth before inserting it. You are pumping the blue vibrator in and out and rubbing on your sensitive bud at the same time. Thinking of none other than Jeon Jungkook fucking you raw on your bed and his tattooed hand with a firm grip on your throat. You start to see stars as you reach your climax and you pull it out, juices leak out. You put it on the highest speed and rub it on your swollen clit once more. Your body starts shaking and pulsing through another orgasm. You clean up the toy and shower and go to bed.

In your dream, you are in a dark place that is glowing orange and red at a close distance. You walk farther down the hall and you're met with this tall man, with large doe eyes, and dark wavy hair. He says, "Hello." Too stunned to speak, is it him... He grabs your face with his tattooed hand, "You have been thinking of us... You have quite the imagination." You gasp and look at his hand, "Umm... Yes." He chuckles, "Is that what you want us to do to you? Hmm. We can make it happen." He rips off your clothes and bites your neck as he touches the folds of your wet pussy. You lift a leg so he gets better access. And you feel one finger slip in. He kisses your lips and moans, "Mmmm, you like that." He picks up the pace as you say his name. Your legs get weak and you collapse onto the floor.

He moves you onto your back and slips two fingers in. His fingers grow a little more as they are deep inside you., with every thrust. He's looking at you dark-eyed, "uhh, tell me, you want more, you fucking slut." He slaps you across the face, and you moan, "ahhh, fuck." As he picks up the pace and palms your clit at the same time. He leans down to kiss you, tongue reaching the back of your throat, he smiles, "you take my fingers so well, wait til you see my dick..." You open your legs wider, and just as he's about to pull out his dick you awaken.

You jump awake from your sleep, covered in sweat, and your pussy is throbbing. This dream felt so real. You're clenching... You get up to splash water on your face... Fuck it's 4 am. You go back to your bed and gasp because you see him. The man from your dream. Can this be-? He interrupts your thoughts, "I am real, I know all of your thoughts every day. I know everything... Do you really want me and my brothers to take you?" You gasp, "take me where? There's no way you guys are..."

He looks at you full of lust, "Then how do we know, the things you want us to do to you? Let us make your dreams come true." You stare at his naked body, "Jungkook, what happens if I do..." He laughs, " Pleasure and pain... you want it or not." You know you can't resist him, you wanted this for so long. He almost gets impatient, "Don't think so much, just let it happen." He holds out his hand, big eyes staring at you "Come on." You nod and take his hand. He flips you on your back, and before you know it, mirrors are all over the room, and the rest of bangtan are sitting in a circle around you two. Tae is the first to join you guys. You are on your back and you watch as Jungkooks and Taehyung split. They have a ring on both sides of their tongues.

Before you know it, Jungkook has his tongue circling your clit in both directions then he slips his tongue inside. Tae is licking, sucking, and biting your erect brown nipples. He moans with you. In your thoughts, I can't believe this is really happening, "Ahhh, fuck." They tell you to keep your eyes on the mirror on the ceiling but they feel so good. Their eyes get wide and blacken when you start to cum. They ask again, "Are you ready, little one... There's no going back after we fu-" You moan, "please fuck me... I need this." Tae breathes heavily, "your such a needy slut." You see black clouds flash and they reappear in different positions. Your ass is up and your face is down. Tae is positioned in front of you with his legs open. He groans, "Mmm, suck my dick."

You wet your lips, then lick up and down his large tan shaft and the head was light brown. He moans yn while you bob up and down on his long hard dick. Meanwhile, JK is at the entrance of your pussy. You feel him move the head up and down, covering himself in your slick juices. You almost cry when he goes in, slowly at first. You pull Tae out of your mouth briefly, "Ahhhhh, jungk-" You use your hands and pick up the pace faster as you feel jks dick grow a little more the louder you moan. He closes his big beautiful eyes and holds onto your ass and he starts to slam into you. He feels so good inside you as his length gets longer inside of you.

Your moans are muffled, spit is dripping down Taes shaft. After a few minutes, you can't hold your moans anymore. You pull him out of your mouth again and jerk him off. "Mmmmm, fuck, right there..... oh my god...Ah-hhhh." Tae abruptly grabs your face, " Mmmm, No God... just us... Slow down, baby, you have all night." He puts his dick back in your mouth and fucks hard into it, while you grind back onto Jungkooks dick. A few more pumps and they are both finishing at the same time. Thick black clouds appear, Jk and Tae, take their place on the bed and start jerking off like they didn't just fuck you.

Yoongi and Jimin suddenly appear next to you. Tears already rolling down your face from pleasure. Jimin wipes them and says, "aww, our new fuck toy. Are you ok, sweetheart?" All you could think, how is he so nice even in demon form? You nod, "Yes." Jimin is laying down, your big lips crashing onto his, and he smiles, "Good." At this point, Yoongi is watching and stroking himself slowly. He leans down and whispers to Jimin. Jimin nods, Yoongi still strokes himself as sits behind you, feeling a warm sensation near your puckered asshole. You moan into Jimins kiss not knowing what is next.

His fingers produce a warm lubricant, then he inserts one into your hole. You jolt at the feeling, Yoongi whispers in your ear, "We have to stretch your ass, kitten." He kisses your cheek before you know it, you still feel the warm liquid pumping inside and he now has 3 fingers inside that have grown long and thick. He's twisting them hard as you feel Jimins hard bulge underneath you. Yoongi removes his fingers and Jimin coos, " Are you ready, baby?" He tells you to sit up. He teases at your asshole before slowly pushing into you. You scream, "Ahhhhh... Fuck." The lube gets warmer as he puts all of his inches slowly into your tight ass.

You watch yoongi as he tells you to lean further back, then your arms are resting on the bed. His tongue splits and he has 4 tongue rings. He shows you wiggling them quickly before looking down at your pussy. Jimin's dick thrusts and rotates into you while Yoongi's warm tongue is at your nipples. He bounces one breast as his tongue swirls and flicks at your other breast. His eyes go dark when his teeth sink into your nipple, and he groans, "mmm, so pretty." His soft pink lips kiss down your stomach and his pierced tongue circles your clit. You moan, "omg... MMMM," and his tongue slips inside you, bouncing so fast, he vibrates off your walls.

Hands cupping your breast while Jimin continues to fuck into your ass. It feels so warm but feels so good, thumping sounds fill the room and his dick has doubled in size. He furrows his brows with pleasure, "look up, princess, look at how good you look when we fuck you." You are barely hanging on as another orgasm rushes through your body. You cum just as Jimin releases into your ass. His black cloud forms and he now takes his place jerking himself on the bed. Yoongi is now laying on his back and you are facing him, riding his face. You feel the rings and his tongue reaches deeper inside of you.

You spit on your hand and move your hand up and down his beautiful pink hard dick. He hums into your pussy the faster you stroke him. His large fingers circle your swollen clit, "One more time, Cum for me." You started to feel dizzy and nearly blacked out, "I can't." He slaps your face, "Yes, you can." He moans as your hands yank him faster and more erratically. Both of your moans fill the room. He fucks into your hand and his dark eyes glow, while his tongue reaches your cervix. He moves his hand with side-to-side pressure and you release down his throat. He wiggles it faster to drink in all of you. He moans "ahh, good girl," and then his hot cum shoots all over your hand.

His cloud appears and he poofs to his spot and starts to touch himself. Hobi and Jin are up next. You are all dazed out and they stare at you, "Hyung, you think she can handle it? Look, she's all fucked up." Jin laughs, "She signed up for this, you know." You laugh because it's true. You wanted this for so long. Jin is on his back and you sit on his dick and lay down on his chest. Hobi lines up right behind you and smiles, "You ready to be pumped full of our cum. " Their eyes were already black with arousal. You look at the mirror in front of you to see Hobi fucking you. No lube was needed because you were still full of cum from earlier. All of a sudden, SLAP. You yelp, "ouc-" Jin cuts off your moan with a kiss then he continues to slap your face and fuck into your cunt.

Jin whispers, "Your doing amazing, you'll reach paradise soon." Jin grabs your waist and gets into you deeper, "You feel so good... Fuck yn." Hobi grunts "keep looking in the mirror." You start to feel tired drained and over fucked. The room starts to swirl and the colors start to melt together. The two men rub inside all of your sensitive spots and you begin to cry. You three moan in unison and you nearly faint as they chase their high. As you feel their balls hit against your ass, a random burst of energy rushes through you and you start rubbing your clit in circles.

Clenching both of your holes around their rock-hard dicks, they grunt and cum inside you. You began to pant and lay down on Jin's chest and in an instant, they poof away and join the other members jerking in the circle. Joon nestles beside you, his eyes already dark and wild, he asks, "Are you sure you want this?" You moan, "Yes, I need this." He says, "Just know once you go to this place with us... Everything and everyone you know is gone... You may never return." You look down for a moment, "I- I understand." You start to cry, "I hope it's worth it." He laughs, "It will be." Then he removes his boxers. Your eyes grow large and you had a sudden realization. Now you know why he was covered this whole time. He has two big beautiful nine-inch dicks with a prince Albert piercing on one of his heads.

You're not sure how well you can take it, then the rest of your room melts away. You are in that same place with the red and orange glow. But now you are tied into a sex swing, hungry and desperate to feel him... "Fuck me please, Joon. I need it." He blindfolds you and places kisses on your neck, which feels blazing hot to the touch. You feel him at both of your entrances and he holds the bottom of your ass while he's slowly moving his hips so he can plunge into you. His breath hitches, "o-ohh, damn girl.." He makes sure you are ok before he moves faster and faster. You feel a tingle all over your body and scream his name repeatedly as he shows you no mercy.

He then holds your legs in place as he thrust, you feel his ring pressing and rubbing inside your slick walls. You can't take it anymore and start to cry as everyone's cum from earlier drips on the floor. He loves the sight of you crying from pleasure. He pinches your nipples hard and says, "Almost there, you can do this." He pinches harder and the sound of his thighs slapping yours fills the room. He bites the crook of your neck and his deep voice growls, "uhh, uhh...Mmmmm." His brows furrow as his scalding cum releases into your holes. You feel breathless and dizzy. He removes the blindfold and all of bangtan stands over you. Joon flashes an evil smile, showing his dimples, " Welcome to Paradise... We'll start again in 2 minutes."

#ot7 x reader #bts fanfic #ot7 au #ot7 demons #smut #bangtan #min yoongi #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jeon jungkook #park jimin #jung hoseok #dickrings #x reader

37 notes · View notes