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#he had enough of being taken control of
every-dayiwakeup · 1 year
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This post by @thatgirlwithasquid made me think, if Billy is in pain when the Mind Flayer is in pain... does it go both ways? If Billy is in pain, does the MF feel it? 
The scene where Billy’s drinking bleach, I personally think he was trying to kill the thing inside him. 
Freedom at any cost, even his own life. 
It makes no sense otherwise, for the MF to force him to drink it. Why kill the host when you’re still occupying their body? That just defeats the whole purpose of possessing Billy. 
Also: 
The creature likes it cold. 
via @local-redhead-bookworm: I wonder if a small part of him was like “oh this bastard doesn’t like the heat? Even more reason for me to go to work.”
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syn0vial · 6 months
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so, i've been seeing a lot about the new BG3 epilogues, but i gotta ask: do you get a similar epilogue if you choose to become the absolute at the end? i know it's unlikely, but... i have thoughts about how that could go 👀
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wish I was capable of articulating why I've been nonstop head in my hands about YJTV Bart and Jaime the last week or so but honestly I've got nothing. they're a lot and I dunno how to explain it. very important to me though
#give me like another week maybe idk i need to figure out why exactly I'm so emotional over them#it's like... jaime's a normal kid until he's Not and lbr he gets less normal by the day#and then bam there's suddenly a kid from the literal future who came back JUST FOR HIM#like... WILD#and bart? 100% did not plan to imprint on the guy he's trying to keep from going evil#and you can TELL but you can also tell he doesn't actually mind. jaime is nice to him and doesn't mind being attached at the hip#and that's enough for bart. they become besties in like 0.5 seconds and it's precious actually#like... idk man the fact that their friendship is actually a core detail in the whole yknow saving the world thing???#bc if bart HADN'T gotten to friendly would things have gone differently?? if jaime was less open to said friendship??#if they weren't both so willing to be open with each other and then stick together??? how much longer would it have taken#for the rest of the team to find out about the reach's control of the scarab? how much less prepared would jaime have been#for basically everything that happens all season??#like yeah he gets all anxious about practically having a prophecy over his head but at the same time the fact that bart is even THERE#is proof that said ''prophecy'' isn't set in stone.#bart sticks real close to jaime both bc 1) jaime is his mission objective as it were) and also 2) he's kinda a lonely kid#and he and jaime have a connection from the get-go bc of the time travel thing#and has bart ever really had friends his own age before???#lowkey it's almost like they're each other's security blanket of a person#not in a weird codependent way just in a friends who relax a bit more when they're together than with anyone else#bc bart can (theoretically) help and/or stop jaime if his scarab takes over which = success and safety for him (and everyone else)#and jaime KNOWS that and knows bart is prepared for the eventuality which also puts him a bit more at ease#idk I'm just throwing stones at the water and hoping they skip but OUGH peak dynamic actually#Lu rambles#...slightly more unhingedly than normal maybe#yjtv#meta finding tag#for my tags#yeah idk just. many thoughts and feels :)
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incognit0slut · 21 days
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Behind Closed Doors
Part two
Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words
A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough
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You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.
"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.
"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."
"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”
"Not for another hour."
"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."
“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."
This caught your attention. "What test?"
She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."
"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"
"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."
"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"
Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."
You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.
You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?
Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.
You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.
Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.
Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 
Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.
A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.
"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.
"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.
"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."
You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.
"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"
"I need to reschedule."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"
"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.
She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."
"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."
A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 
With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.
"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"
You cocked your head to the side.
What were you doing here? 
You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."
His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.
You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"
"So you've heard.”
"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."
"If they let me back on the team."
"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."
He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"
"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."
He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.
"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"
You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."
"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."
Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"
"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”
Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.
"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.
"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"
"I never said that.”
Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”
You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.
It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.
You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.
"Y/N?"
Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."
Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 
The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.
With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."
But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.
Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.
Your face grew hotter at the thought.
"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.
"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."
He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"
"I... uh..."
His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."
Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.
It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.
But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.
"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"
"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."
With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.
You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.
He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 
With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 
Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.
"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.
“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."
He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.
"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 
"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.
"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."
"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."
You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."
“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”
“Me? What about—oh.”
His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.
“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”
You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”
“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”
“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”
You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.
“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”
You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”
“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”
You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.
“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.
“What are you doing?”
You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”
“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”
You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”
“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”
Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.
“Lift your hips for me.”
You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.
“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”
Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.
He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.
“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”
Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.
“I… I guess so.”
“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.
“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”
Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.
“Do you often touch yourself?”
Your head fell back as he started to move.
“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.
"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.
“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.
“Have you ever thought of me?”
Whoa.
The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.
This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?
A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.
"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.
He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”
What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.
“Uh… This is slightly better.”
“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”
Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”
The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"
Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."
His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”
With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."
Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."
He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.
You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.
You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.
This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.
You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.
You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.
"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.
"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.
"Don't answer it."
"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"
Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”
Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.
“Y/N? Are you listening?”
“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”
"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”
You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 
“…he's also been stalking younger women."
Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.
“Y/N.”
You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.
“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.
You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”
You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"
"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”
There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."
You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."
Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.
“Are you with someone?”
You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”
There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.
“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.
“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”
She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”
You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.
“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.
"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.
"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”
Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—
“Y/N!”
“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”
You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.
"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"
You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.
It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.
Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.
Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 
Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 
You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”
“Good intense?”
“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.
“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.
Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”
“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”
He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”
Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”
Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."
Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.
He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.
Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 
He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.
3K notes · View notes
animeismyhappyplace · 4 months
Text
My Deerest Darling
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Synopsis: When Alastor's rut hits he needs someone he can truly trust to help him out, luckily for him Y/N just arrived at the Hazbin Hotel.
Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel and may contain some spoilers for the series.
Word Count: 5K (5,045)
Trigger Warnings: 18+!!!
Platonic friends who share a close bond and care for each other, tiny pinch of angst at the start, possessive behavior, swearing, a deal is made, pet names (dear, darling), his demon form is here, marking and love bites, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, porn with some plot, ambiguous ending I suppose 😜
Authors Note: I know that Alastor is AroAce canonically so I wanted to write this like he's in a stressful situation, one he can't really control, and chooses to experience it with a close friend.
I've never written an Ace character before so I hope I do him at least some justice ☺️.
I've taken the route, after a little bit of research, that over time he could form a sexual attraction if it was the right circumstances and he'd known the person for a very long time but it'd still be something that rarely happens.
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Y/N walks down through the streets of Pentagram City frowning as she walks past more fires and explosions than she could count, she'd even had to side step past a bird looking sinner screaming about being doomed come the next Externation Day.
She was making her way to the Hazbin Hotel to see an old friend. She walks up the large wooden doors somewhat hesitant, it's been a long time since she last spoke to Alastor but more information was needed about Pride Ring's next steps given the recent news.
Giving herself a moment to calm the nerves drumming across her veins she takes a moment to smooth out her outfit and tuck any flyaway hairs back into place before giving the door a few sharp knocks.
She waits for a few moments with seemingly no activity inside the large hotel until she hears a gruff voice complain “... Why the fuck do I have to answer the door? Not enough that I'm already the fuckin' bartender…”
Her eyes widen as she instantly recognises the voice, almost laughing as a rather grumpy looking cat reluctantly answers the door “What the fuck do you wa...Y/N?”
Husk's wide yellow eyes stare at her his jaw basically hanging on the floor, the awkwardness of the situation making her rock on the balls of her feet nervously “Hey Husker, long time no see”
Y/N swallows the lump forming in her throat as she notices his body is still somewhat stiff “uhh didn't realise you were back in the Pride Ring”
The woman simply nods at his statement “came back when I heard the announcement ‘bout the angelic fuckers dropping on us faster than usual”
“Right…” he answers guardedly, his eyes looking her up and down, making her own drop to the concrete leading up to the hotel's entrance “is Alastor here?”
Husk clears his throat gesturing for her to come in while stepping aside, she gives him a tight lipped smile entering cautiously.
Her eyes flit around the room as she takes in her surroundings, her soft gaze settling on some portraits of Lucifer and his family. She gets so lost in thought she almost doesn't realise a certain demon is watching her with intrigue.
Static fills the air making her blood run cold as her eyes snap to the radio demon himself, Alastor.
“Well well well, you're certainly the last person I'd have expected to see here, my dear”
Nervously she wrings her hands together, unable to look at him as his red eyes bore into her face “can we talk?”
A wide smile spreads across Alastor's face as he stares at his old friend. His head tilts slightly as he looks her up and down with curiosity, his piercing red eyes glowing ominously as he nods.
"Why of course my dear~ come, let's find a quiet place to talk"
He turns his back on her as he gestures for her to follow him with a simple point of his long finger.
Y/N nods following silently, passing through a few vacant corridors before stopping at a room Alastor finally seems happy with.
He again gestures for her to walk in, letting her go first like the gentleman he is with a large smile on his face as he shuts the door behind them.
Turning to face her, he tilts his head expectantly waiting for her to speak but when nothing but silence fills the air he clears his throat "so to what do we owe this rare pleasure?"
A frown sets deep in across her forehead as she sighs "you needn't be so formal with me Alastor, we've known each other a long time..."
Rolling his eyes he clicks his tongue at her "yes, until you suddenly disappeared"
His eyes narrow as he spits out "how fun that was"
She visibly winches as his words cut at her heart, her head hanging in shame "I know... I'm sorry…”
Alastor's eyebrow raises as she explains herself. His eyes narrow slightly, a look of distrust glittering across his large orbs but it quickly fades as he watches her body language.
She's clearly uncomfortable at having to face him returning from an absence just as long as his own. He steps a bit closer to her, his movements are slow and deliberate as he meets her eyes curiosity getting the better of him.
"Hmm yes well I must ask..."
The corner of his mouth curls up into a predatory smile as his voice lowers with an air of menace in his words. "Where have you been hiding my dear?" He says in a low tone, hand grabbing at his mic.
She goes to speak but then notices his shadows beginning to move around the room, almost touching her legs as they surround her, raising her eyebrow at him she finally gives him the answer he's been looking for.
"Wrath, a friend of mine told me something very interesting. I'd be happy to tell you what they said, you know since we're so close" she smiles almost wickedly.
A hint of laughter escapes his lips at her words before he raises his eyebrows at her with genuine curiosity.
"Please do go on my dear~ don't leave me in such suspense" Alastor leans forwards resting on his mic.
A small chuckle leaves her lips at his rapid mood swing but she concedes nodding "while scavenging for weapons they found a body, a rather holy looking body wouldn't you say?"
She walks close to him, handing over a picture of a headless exterminator.
The Radio Demon stares down at the picture, his eyes widen as his smile broadens. His lips curl into a menacing grin as he slowly nods his head.
"Yes...I would indeed"
His eyes light up with interest as he raises his eyebrow, a curious glint sparkling in his cherry red eyes.
"Tell me my dear, how did the creature meet its gruesome end?”
A deep sigh of disappointment leaves her lips at his question, her arms folding in front of her stomach "ah that I don't know, my dear Alastor"
A wide smile stretches over her lips pulling tightly at her rosy cheeks "though I figure if anyone could find out what happened, it'd be you"
A small chuckle escapes his lips as he considers her words.
"Hmmm..."
He paces around the room, his long legs striding effortlessly with a soft hiss of static sounding with each step.
"Yes. That's quite possible indeed"
He walks over to her stopping just in front of her body and smiles, the glint in his eyes becoming more intense as his voice drops into a lower tone.
"I suppose could do a bit of investigating, for the right price of course~"
His long fingers curl over her hair patting gently as his hand settles on her head.
She turns her head to look up at him humming softly at his words "a deal? What'd you have in mind?"
A smug grin crosses his lips as he raises an eyebrow. In this moment, his presence is intense, his aura of power and danger surrounding her like a heavy blanket of shadows.
"Simple enough~"
He pauses before continuing in the same suave voice, his eyes narrowing as he leans down towards her face.
"I'll get all the information I can on the dead angel and you... will owe me one small favour to be cashed in any time of my choosing”
"Simple enough until I know what it is you want from me" a small pout settles across her lips as she thinks over his proposition and in the end she holds her hand out to him.
The aura in the room drastically changes. Green stitches appear along Alastor's mouth covering his sharp teeth, his eye colour changing to bright green, his pupils shifting to radio dials and his dark antlers growing in size curving around his head.
"Is it done?”
His demonic form disappears as quickly as it appeared. A chuckle escaped his lips as he reached out to gently stroke her hair humming almost softly.
"Good girl~ we have ourselves a deal"
His voice becomes more even as the quiet of the room returns.
"I don't suppose you could do me a favour? work your magic and convince that little princess you're helping to let me stay here?" she chuckles under her breath.
A sly grin spreads across the handsome demon's face as he chuckles softly. His eyes light up with mischief and he taps his mic as his voice softens.
"Why yes I believe I could. Come with me my dear and let's go see Charlie”
She smiles at the taller demon appreciatively as they begin walking to the door.
"Would it be strange for me to say I've missed you and your mysterious ways?" She asks with a small giggle falling from her lips.
A low chuckle escapes the demon as he teases her "how sentimental of you"
"Not at all my dear"
His eyes soften for a very brief moment and he's clearing his throat.
"Please. Follow me”
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Charlie had accepted Y/N’s presence quicker than she'd expected but it worked in her favour so she hadn't questioned it much simply looking towards Alastor who shrugged his shoulders with his ever present smile spread across his face.
She worked hard to dodge Husk's probing questions during breakfast, anxiety rising until he'd finally dropped the subject after multiple prompts from Charlie and Vaggie.
Her worries now shifted to Alastor who'd been strangely quiet since they made their deal, his eyes darting around the room rapidly almost as if he was waiting for something.
She had decided to corner him in the afternoon after realising he'd spoken only twice so far all day, it was concerning to say the least.
She steadily ascends the winding stairs leading up to his radio tower, finding him hunched over the console, his back rising and falling rapidly as his breathing looked laboured.
“Alastor?” She asks with a soft tone.
As she speaks, his body jerks up with a sharp intake of breath. He straightens himself, and his breathing becomes more controlled as he turns to face her. Alastor's expression remains neutral but his eyes narrow as he stares at her.
"Yes my dear? What is it?"
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his long claws digging into his skin as he continued to stare at her, still not quite meeting her eyes.
She stares at him for a moment brows knitting together in a small frown as she watches beads of sweat trail down his cheeks from his forehead "just wanted to check on you, you've been awfully quiet today"
Questioning eyes wander down until they stop at his clenched fists "you seem out of sorts"
He looks down at his hands as his breathing becomes slightly more erratic. His body seems to tense up as he realises she's watching him intently.
"No no I'm fine, probably just... the time of year"
His eyes narrow in annoyance glancing over her shoulder towards the large red door.
She doesn't seem convinced as she slowly moves closer "you sure? Cause you really do seem-"
She teaches her hand out to touch his forehead wanting to check his temperature 'can demons even get sick?' she wonders as his body reacts quickly, reaching out to grab onto her arm stopping her as his hand tightens its grip.
His skin feels hot to the touch, almost burning her skin as he holds her hand firmly, gripping it so tightly it almost hurts.
His breathing grows sharper as his eyes bore into her own, his ears flattening against his head.
"S-sorry Alastor, too close?" She whispers as she tries to pull away, fearing she's made him uncomfortable.
The demon seems to snap back to reality, eyes wide and blinking rapidly before letting go of her hand looking at her with a slightly irritated expression.
He doesn't reply, just shakes his head, pushing past her to grab his mic before storming away back to the hotel.
Y/N stands in the silent radio tower frozen in pure confusion at his actions.
She looks down at her skin wondering if there'd be a burn mark left behind from his touch but of course there wasn't, shaking her head she sighs before leaving the tower herself.
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✨ Later That Day ✨
The next time she sees Alastor his behaviour is even more strange. She had been having a few drinks at the bar with Husk and Angel Dust, telling the friendly spider demon all about her early days as a sinner and how she'd managed to slowly befriend the standoffish overlord.
Alastor had entered the large space calm as ever, his eyes finding the trio quickly, red eyes narrowing at Husk as he handed Y/N a new drink, his hand momentarily brushing against her fingers but it's enough.
A loud and low growl rumbles in Alastor's chest as he storms over to the group, startling Y/N so much she jumps dropping the glass.
His long slender fingers wrap around her wrist as he pulls her off the bar stool and into his chest, his left arm winding around her waist in an almost protective manner making her yelp as her face is thrust into his chest.
Red eyes narrow at the two men as his pupils transform into radio dials, large antlers growing as his chest shakes with anger “ĐØ₦'₮ ₮ØɄ₵Ⱨ ⱧɆⱤ” black shadowy tentacles shoot out and grab onto Husk's red bowtie pulling him into the edge of the bar as the radio demons smile widens in demonic glee.
Y/N's hands grip onto Alastor's shirt tugging harshly “Alastor! Alastor STOP” she shouts trying to push him backwards to get his attention.
His body stiffens as the shadows recede dropping Husk onto the floor, his pupils changing back to their regular shape as his gaze shifts down to her body still pressed tightly against his own.
A look of panic crosses the demon's face as he pushes Y/N away from his body. His eyebrows furrow for a moment before he's stalking out of the room, slamming the door as leaves. Y/N's breaths are shallow as her heart thunders in her chest.
“Uh what in the fuck was that?” Angel asks incredulously while helping Husk to his feet, his eyes flicking between her and his friend.
“I-I don't know… I've never…” her mind is racing as she tries to think back to their many years of friendship but she'd never seen him act that way before and it scared her.
Without realising her feet are moving to follow in his footsteps, she needs to find out what was going on.
She searches all around the hotel but doesn't find a single trace of her friend. Giving up and finally trudging back to her bedroom for a much needed rest, she kicks the door open, not even bothering to shut it before flopping face first onto her bed.
Her temples are pulsing wildly with pain at the headache she's given herself trying to figure out Alastor's strange actions, her fingers rub deep circles against her head making her groan until the sound of her door slamming shut makes her jump up so quickly she almost falls off her bed.
The door slams with a rather loud bang showing Alastor walking further into the room, a small smirk playing on his lips as he steps toward her.
"Đīđ Ī ꞩȼⱥɍē ɏꝋᵾ đēⱥɍ? You should really be more careful leaving your door open like that anyone could walk in"
His eyes darted over her body as sweat drops from his fringe to the floor, his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of red matching his hair.
"Alastor? What's going on? You're not acting like yourself" she shifts backwards on the bed until her back hits the headboard, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Alastor continues to walk towards her with an unsettling grin plastered across his face.
"Ah...You're quite right about that my dear, it's that time of the year for me unfortunately."
In a sudden move, he's leaning over her, placing a hand underneath her chin gripping it tightly.
He is so close to her now she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks.
"That time of year?" She asks confused, her eyes looking up to watch his facial expressions.
Alastor leans in closer resting his forehead against hers as their breathing synchronises.
"Mating season my dear, I'm in rut"
Shock paints across her face as she starts to stutter ‘rut? As in…’
"I-I thought you didn't usually like se-”
His voice is low, breathing laboured as his breath tickles her skin causing her cheeks to heat up at the close contact.
"you're right I don't usually enjoy... physical touch... but my instincts are becoming too difficult to control"
His body almost trembles as his claws grip her bed sheets "you're one of oldest and closest friends my dear if it's going to happen... I want it to be you"
She shakes her head slightly as he rests his nose against her own "don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or make you do something you'll regret"
"I'm slowly losing my mind here dear"
The demon pushes her back as his voice drops to a whisper.
"I've managed to resist as much as possible but it physically hurts"
He raises his hands slowly to brush her fringe away revealing her forehead as he almost nuzzles against the soft skin.
"please..." he pleads as his voice cracks.
Her eyebrows furrow unsure if this is something he actually wants.
"Only if you're sure Alastor, I don't want..." she whispers slowly, lifting her hand to push the soaked hair away from his eyes.
Alastor shakes his head, growing frustrated and desperate.
"I want this. I need this"
His voice trembles with desperation as his body shakes, the heat coming from his body almost burning her own as she attempts to soothe him.
"Be a doll darling and help me…”
"Okay" she whispers, hands trailing down his cheeks to rest on his jaw as she tugs his face down ever so slightly to brush her lips against his in a feather light kiss.
Alastor tries to hold back, tries to be gentle with her but he's feeling so needy his body has a mind of its own, his fingers grasping at her arms pulling her body close to his own
A whine leaves her lips as his body dwarfs her own, pushing her down onto her back. Her hair is splayed out over her pillows as his large body leans over her own.
His breath becomes ragged as his body reacts to their close proximity. His hips rock forward, the growing tent in his pants pressing against her body and causing her cheeks to flush brightly.
"You're body is so soft my dear"
His voice breaks as he trails kisses along her neck, his large sharp teeth nipping at her throat moving down to her collarbone.
Alastor can't help but groan as his heated body touches hers, need drumming through his veins as he rocks his hips into her body showing her how desperate he is for release.
His long fingers have her hands pinned down so he has full control.
His tongue slips out to softly lick the underside of her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin as he moves one hand to grip her own, his claws sinking into her flesh.
His mouth leaves her neck as he trails kisses along the side of her nose, neck and cheeks before finally settling back on her lips, his breathing growing heavy.
Once satisfied he pulls back, tearing off his red blazer jacket throwing it somewhere to the side before starting on his bow tie and shirt letting them land beside his jacket.
With his heated chest exposed Y/N uses the opportunity to let her fingers explore, they trail over his pecs to his sides before travelling upwards to his neck pulling his body back to her own.
Alastor lets out a low groan as his body reacts to her hands, his breath growing deeper as she moves her hands over his body.
His claws bite into the bed sheets causing small rivets to appear in the fabric.
"Dear" He mutters as his voice breaks
"I don't think I can resist much longer…”
Her slender fingers move quickly, lifting her shirt over her head and throwing it off to the side. Next she unclips her bra sighing in relief as cold air hits her nipples.
She gives Alastor a small smirk as she sees his eyes raking over her bare body.
Alastor's pupils contract as she removes her clothing, he takes in every inch of her exposed body as he watches her movements with an intense gaze.
His eyes trace her curves, looking her up and down with a look of approval before he opens his mouth to compliment her, his voice cracking.
"You've got to be one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen"
A low possessive growl leaves his throat as he uses his clawed fingers to shred her skirt, throwing the pieces on the floor.
"Mine”
She nods whimpering softly, trailing her hands down her body rubbing over her nipples then moving down to her panties.
She pulls them down and throws them off to the side, spreading her legs for Alastor to see how soaked she is, her small fingers rub small circles against her clit as Alastor's hungry eyes watch every moment.
A growl leaves his chest again as he watches her fingers move over herself spreading the wetness over her folds, his breathing rapidly increasing as she toys with herself.
"So adorable..."
His words leave his lips as low rumbles as he stares at her body, his jaw growing tighter and the muscles in his body tensing as he watches her with such a hungry look.
Alastor moves his hands to her thighs spreading them impossibly wide so he can slide between them and better watch her movements, tongue peaking out to lick over his lips.
Having Alastor's dark eyes watching her makes her heart thud rapidly in her chest, tilting her head back as she enters two fingers into her dripping pussy.
With her head tilted back Alastor can see every mark he's left across her neck making his hands clench down on her thighs possessively.
Alastor's eyes flicker between the marks he's left on her skin and her wet heat.
His fingers are digging into her thighs as he watches her with hunger, Alastor's breath catches in his throat as he watches her movements, his teeth gritting with each thrust of her fingers.
"Need a taste…”
Wrapping his fingers around her wrist he pulls removing her fingers from her body, groaning as he watches her slick dripping from her fingers.
He moves quickly, pulling her fingers forward and into his waiting mouth, his tongue lapping at the digits with a moan as he tastes her juices.
Alastor grunts in approval as his tongue laps at her fingers, his chest heaving as his body reacts to her taste.
"More..." he grumbles greedily before his teeth drag along the soft skin of her hand as his tongue continues to lick away at her juices.
His body is growing more desperate for release, his breath becoming more shaky.
Watching the demon almost devour her fingers sends fresh need throbbing through her body as she whines "need you Alastor"
His lips curl into a cruel smirk as he lets her hand drop to the bed.
"So eager~"
He grins leaning down over her body making sure his growing length is pressed against her bare body, his eyes growing hot as he meets her gaze.
"I'm going to make you scream darling"
His voice is heavy with desire as he starts to lean in for a kiss.
Y/N reciprocates his kiss greedily as her own need grows, her hands drop to his pants tugging them down along with his boxers, finally releasing his length as a long moan leaves his lips.
Her fingers wrap around his dick, moving her hand down his length feeling it throb in her hand.
The demon's eyes roll back in his head as he feels her warm hands wrap around his length, a groan rumbling deep in his throat. He arches his back into her touch, his hips bucking slightly as she begins to stroke him “don't be a tease now dear”
Alastor growls low in his throat, thrusting his hips forward as he feels the tight heat engulf him causing them both to moan loudly as he fills her to the brim.
His fingers curl around her legs wrapping them around his hips as he starts to thrust into her.
Y/N's eyes roll back as Alastor sets an almost bruising pace, her arms looping around his head to keep her steady.
Her breaths come out as little hiccups as Alastor's thrusts push her further up the bed.
The demon's thrusts grow harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers as he takes her with a feral growl. His monocle slips from his eye, clattering to the floor as he loses himself in the primal need to claim and breed.
His hands reach out to grip onto the bed, his claws sinking into the mattress as the pleasure overwhelms his body.
Sharp nails nip into the skin of Alastor's neck as he pounds into her, her head tipping back burying into the pillows as all thoughts fly out of her head.
"A-A... Al..." her soft moans are muffled as his head dips to press needy kisses to her lips.
His growl vibrates throughout his body as he feels her nails dig into his skin, her voice sending shivers down his spine.
He bites down on her lip, his tongue flicking over the wound, licking up the blood he's drawn as hunger claws at his chest.
Alastor's rough and fast pace starts to rock the bed against the wall, every thrust causing the bed to shake. Her moans and whines increase in volume.
His hips slam into hers over and over again, his cock buried deep inside her as he takes what he wants.
“Look at my good girl, taking me so well…”
With a feral growl, Alastor picks up the pace even more, his hips slamming into hers in a primal rhythm. His eyes wild with lust and possession as he takes her, his body trembling as he tries to control his demonic strength.
"QɄłɆ₮ ĐɆ₳Ɽ, your sweet sounds are for my ears Ø₦ⱠɎ”
Alastor's deer-like ears twitching madly as they react to each sound that leaves her throat.
Y/N's so lost in the pleasure the demon is giving her that she doesn't realise the long dark antlers that have started to sprout from his red locks.
Her eyes squeezed shut with her hand slapped over her mouth as she attempted to quieten down her noises.
Y/N's muffled whines pitch in volume as pleasure courses through her veins.
"A-Al... 'm c-close" she whimpers, pulling his body down to hers, pulling him so close his chest is slotted against her own.
Her fingers slip between their bodies to rub tight circles against her swollen clit, her walls clenching down on Alastor's cock as her thighs shake against his bucking hips.
Alastor feels the pleasure building within him, his body tensing as he reaches his climax. His eyes squeezed shut as he thrust harder into her one last time, his hot seed filling her up with each thrust.
Feeling Alastor come undone and throb against her walls sendings her over the edge, her body stiffening as she cums hard with Alastor's cock bullying her sweet spot.
Almost instinctively as he's climaxing Alastor buries his face in the crook of Y/N’s neck, licking a long stripe up the sweaty skin before his long sharp teeth sink into the soft supple skin. He keeps his teeth in place until she's finished cumming on his cock, finally pulling away he licks up the blood that slowly weeps out of the holes. He's smirking proudly while looking at the marks that are scattered across her upper body.
She's panting hard, her fingers trailing up to her neck to feel the marks Alastor has left behind as she's held close to Alastor's body, they stay slotted together until both of their breathing starts to settle down.
As their breathing slows, Alastor opens his eyes to look down at Y/N, a satisfied smirk on his face. He leans in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling out of her with a soft pop, flopping down on the bed beside her.
Y/N turns to lay on her side, head propped up on her hand as she watches his face.
"Feeling better?" she can't help but giggle as his head turns to look at her.
"Much," he replies with a chuckle, humming as he runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down. He glances back at her and smirks "for now”
He chuckles softly, enjoying her wide eyed reaction to his words. His long arms reach out cradling her to his body as he strokes her hair "come rest for now dear, you're going to need it”
She gulps as he smiles at her deviously.
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Back in the main seating area of the lobby the group sat together looking thoroughly traumatised at hearing the pairs… activities.
Sir Pentious is covering the ears of his little egg boys, Angel has a knowing smirk on his face watching as Husk shakes his head muttering curses under his breath, Nifty thankfully is nowhere to be seen and Vaggie is holding Charlie close as Charlie's eyes are wide, her mouth dropped open in shock.
The room is eerily quiet, no one daring to break the uncomfortable silence until Charlie clears her throat “at least they're done now, right?…” She looks to Vaggie for moral support as Angel Dust bursts out laughing "who knew tall, dark and creepy could fuck" He's holding his stomach and shaking his head as he walks to the bar.
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Banner by @/saradika 🫶🏻
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8K notes · View notes
nottsangel · 3 months
Text
rafe cameron’s rich and confident baddie!gf hcs ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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moodboard . outfits . masterlist . jj version .
ꨄ︎ rafe usually goes for sweet submissive girls, since he likes to have control, but the moment you laid your eyes on the pretty boy, you knew you had to have him. and as usual, you always get what you want.
ꨄ︎ all eyes are focused on you when you both enter a room, rafe simply being your accessory as your louboutin heels clack on the ground, head held high with your make up, nails and hair perfectly done.
ꨄ︎ rafe used to get lots of attention from girls before, but now that you’re dating him? girls don’t even dare to look his way because of your intimidating aura. if they were stupid enough to still flirt with him, then you’d have no problem putting the bitch in her place. “listen, yeah? you better go flirt with topper or kelce or whoever the fuck, cause trust me, you don’t wanna know what happens when my girlfriend finds out.”
ꨄ︎ you secretly pay the bill at a restaurant when rafe’s at the bathroom, a trick he used on his previous girlfriends. he comes back to the table, pulling his wallet out before you place your hand over it with a smile, telling him it’s already been paid. “oh for fucks sake. you really gotta stop that, a’ight?”
ꨄ︎ it’s always a battle for dominance in the bedroom, rafe desperately wanting to have all the control but you not letting him have it easily. one time he accidentally slipped out a ‘mommy’, which you’ve never let go of ever since. “i never fucking said that, okay? you heard it wrong!”
ꨄ︎ topper and kelce constantly tease rafe for being your bitch but not daring to say a word when you’re around, their demeanour instantly shifting when you walk into the room, making rafe smirk as he looks at you proudly. “not much to say now, top? yeah, that’s what i thought.”
ꨄ︎ you have no trouble confronting ward whenever he treats rafe unfairly. ward was taken aback at first, not being used to rafe’s girlfriends talking back at him, making his eyes widen and almost choke on his expensive wine. later, he realised you’re exactly the kind of girl rafe needed this whole time.
ꨄ︎ you’re the centre of attention at parties— your hips swinging to the beat when you’re dancing with your girlfriends, your short dress leaving little room for imagination. you’d try to drag rafe to the dance floor, interrupting him when he’s busy dealing drugs, but knowing he won’t ever say no to you. “jesus, just fucking leave me a— i mean. i’ll… i’ll be there in a bit, okay?”
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joelscurls · 7 months
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I wanna show you off
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.
You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.
It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.
Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.
“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”
“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”
You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”
“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
“You know I love you, right?” 
You sniff again. Nod. 
“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”
“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 
You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 
“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 
“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 
And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.
“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 
“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours. 
And nobody else’s.
“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 
“Got it.”
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It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 
“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 
“Uh-”
“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”
“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 
But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 
You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 
Sheila pays you no attention.
“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”
Your vision blurs scarlet. 
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“
“Sheila,” she reminds him. 
“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”
You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.
“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.
You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 
“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 
You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 
And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
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Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”
“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 
Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 
You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 
“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.
“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 
Sheila is home. 
Perfect.
It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 
“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 
“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 
“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 
“You sure?” 
It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 
But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 
The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 
“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 
“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”
“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”
It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 
“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”
He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.
“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 
Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 
“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 
If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
“Joel, fuck-”
“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”
This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!
And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 
“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 
“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 
“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.
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end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
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utterlyazriel · 1 month
Text
let me keep you company
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a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.
For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.
You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.
Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.
But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.
You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.
Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.
Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.
All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.
And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.
But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.
You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.
But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.
One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—
A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.
Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.
"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.
Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.
"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.
Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"
A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.
You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.
"Not... much." You answer honestly.
There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.
He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."
You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.
"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.
Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.
It's going to be a long two months.
As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.
Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.
There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.
Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.
Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.
Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.
Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.
You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)
Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?
As if, you snort to yourself.
You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.
As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.
"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"
You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."
Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"
"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.
Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—
"You did not ask for a ride this morning."
Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.
"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."
You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.
"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.
His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."
You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.
"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.
Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.
You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.
You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.
"I'll be... going this way."
Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.
"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.
He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."
When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.
“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.
You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.
Guess you have company.
Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.
Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.
And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.
The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.
In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.
“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.
Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.
“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”
It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.
Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.
The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.
You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.
When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.
The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.
"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."
The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.
You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—
"Y/n."
Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.
"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."
"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.
It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.
Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.
Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.
Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.
"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."
Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.
"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.
Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.
You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.
"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.
It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.
"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.
The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.
Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.
"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.
You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.
You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.
The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.
By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.
That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.
"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"
Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.
"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."
You hmph. "Maybe I will."
You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.
"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."
Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."
Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"
You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.
"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"
"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"
The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.
"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.
You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"
Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?
"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."
And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.
Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.
It continues like that for the rest of the week.
Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.
The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.
It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.
Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.
As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.
"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.
"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.
"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.
"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."
Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."
You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”
You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.
"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."
"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.
The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.
Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.
"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.
Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.
"Go on then," She urges you.
For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.
You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."
He's waiting by the time you get there.
Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.
Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.
"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?
Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.
"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.
You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.
"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."
You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.
Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.
"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."
"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"
He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.
This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.
"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.
Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.
He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.
Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.
Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.
Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.
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changetyre · 6 months
Note
Thank you for all of the stories recently! Can you do one where Lando gets tired of you calling him “Little Lando Norris” and decides to show you how big he really is?
L.L.N II Lando Norris ⒽⓌ
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SUMMARY: Lando doesn't mind you making fun and playing games just as long as you're aware of the truth...and he'll be more than happy to remind you.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: Got some good news so felt inspired to write again ;) Sorry for the delay.
"Aww poor little Lando." You jokingly patted him on the back. "Better luck next time buddy." you laughed as you walked away leaving him fuming.
Once again you'd beat Lando for 3rd place by merely a few seconds, an ongoing rivalry between you both that had everyone at the edge of their seats.
Ever since karting you and Lando had this heated rivalry, always making the other's life impossible and being each other's biggest competition so it was no surprise when it continued onto Formula 1.
To the outside world, it was incredibly entertaining for everyone to see the rivalry between the two of you. The rude remarks and snarky comments you threw at each other during interviews, the hate between you two only brewing stronger with each race.
But little did people know the way you were able to keep the hate at bay and keep yourselves in check. It had all started as a stupid drunk mistake when you found yourselves fucking in a club bathroom. The memory was hazy but you both remembered enough to know that deep down you liked it.
The next time it was a simple rash decision, you didn't think about it when you found yourself waking up in Lando Norris's room naked his arm across your waist, quickly throwing it off before running back to your room.
It was good. The sex was good, and that was the only reason you kept coming back. That's what you both told each other.
But it had become a frequent occurrence now, almost 5 months of quick and meaningless fucks where you could let out the pent-up tension and anger you had for each other.
But this still didn't take away from the fact that you still loved to piss each other off on track. Secretly you'd grown to love doing it more because you felt the direct consequence of it later.
"Lando, how do you feel about yet another close battle today with your biggest rival on track?" The interviewer asked him.
"Yeah, she just got lucky getting the better line around the next corners, but she knows I'm not one to back down, she knows what's coming for her," Lando smirked loving the double meaning behind his words.
He could see you a few feet from him giving your own interview. He just about heard you when once again you'd referred to him as Little Lando Norris, something you'd taken to recently which just irked him a little more than usual.
He watched you carefully, keeping his eyes on you like a hawke which to everyone else looked like pure hatred but truly it was simply because Lando could see the way Pierre got a little too friendly with you for his liking.
Lando would never admit it to you but he truly couldn't control the jealousy that erupted in his stomach whenever he saw you get too friendly with anyone. Whatever you had might have been meaningless but as far as he was concerned you were still his for now.
"Alright thanks, Lando enjoy your break." Lawrence finalized the interview with Lando outside the McLaren hospitality just as he could see you walking out of the press conference room with Pierre quickly by your side.
He didn't hesitate as he stood up with a quick step towards you. His blood boiling when he heard you laugh at something Pierre said.
"I need to talk to you." Lando stood in front of you making you stop abruptly and bump into his chest.
"Oh look hey speaking of the devil." You smirked.
"Little Lando Norris." Pierre joked but for some reason, Lando didn't find it the least bit amusing coming from him.
"Okay well can't talk now so bye." You were about to move past him but Lando grabbed your arm.
"Wasn't asking." Lando was ready to pull you away with him but was stopped by Pierre who grabbed your other hand.
"I actually just asked her for a drink so-" Pierre was quick to tell Lando.
"So she can't right now." Lando didn't let him finish or you protest before whisking you away.
You were completely taken aback as Lando shamelessly dragged you away from Pierre not caring the way there were several eyes on you as he took you towards the McLaren building.
Your heart pounded in your chest rendering you speechless as he walked you all the way into the building past several staff members before reaching his room where he was quick to shut you both inside.
"Lando what the-" you finally regained your voice as the door closed behind you.
"Shut up." Lando pressed his lip to yours as he pressed you to the wall. You had to push through the rush that invaded your body trying not to give in so easily.
"Lando, what has gotten into you?" You asked breathlessly as Lando began kissing down your neck unbuttoning your jeans and dragging them down
"So it's just Lando now?" was all he said.
"What are you- ah fuck." before you could reply again you cut yourself off when Lando began ruthlessly attacking your clit.
Lando basked in the pleasure he could produce on you loving the way you became putty in his hands behind closed doors despite the way you loved to tease him and take control outside.
Lando's pants suddenly felt painfully tight as he continued his attack on you taking the liberty he unbuckled his pants all while still tasting you before pulling his dick out into his hands to give it a few pumps.
Lando didn't stop, not until you had your first orgasm before finally getting up. "Why don't you return the favor baby?" Lando asked despite knowing he didn't have to since you were on your knees before he could even finish asking.
You prepared yourself knowing the ache you would feel from sucking him off having to open wide to take him into your mouth. Lando's eyes showed the smugness in them at watching the way you always struggled initially to take him never able to take him all down until you'd sucked him off for a while.
Lando groaned as you began moving your head up and down, your hands taking care of what you couldn't fit in your mouth for now.
"Nothing so little about that is there?" Lando asked the pride clear in his voice.
Only now did you understand what this was all about but you didn't care to complain since he'd gotten you all worked up.
"Why don't you make it extremely clear for me." You decided to try to have your own way.
"Gadly baby." Lando pulled you up before picking you up and using the wall to support you in his arms before using one of his hands to line himself up against your whole.
"Please-" You pleaded, Lando loved the way you begged every time he got near you like these.
"you ready?" he asked despite feeling your wetness already drip onto him.
"Yes, please fuck me." You sighed as you grabbed Lando's face to kiss him.
Lando used this distraction to push himself all the way inside you swallowing your yelp. "Shit baby you're so wet," Lando whispered knowing he had to keep semi-quiet because of the remaining staff in the building right now. Although half of him hoped everyone could hear what you were doing and the way he was making you feel right now...make it crystal clear to everyone.
"Ah, fuck Lando go faster." You begged him as Lando pushed in and out of you fully and completely at a brutally slow pace.
"Who's making you feel like this baby?" Lando asked not answering to your pleas just yet.
"You Lan...You are." You could almost cry at the torturous pace he'd set.
"not even fucking Pierre can make you feel like this can he?" His words were laced with disgust and anger which made your stomach flutter.
"No...no just you." You replied kissing Lando once again.
This was enough for Lando as he picked up his pace feeling the way you clenched around him and the way you struggled to keep quiet.
"Fu...so good...shit" You moaned in a whisper as Lando kept thrusting faster and faster into you against the wall.
Lando could cum at the sight of you, watching the way your tits would bounce with each thrust, the way your eyes rolled back, and hearing your uneven breaths as you tried to keep quiet while your orgasm quickly approached, feeling the way you held onto him as if your own skin was begging for more. This was it. This was glory to Lando.
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cremedensada · 28 days
Text
Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai)
this,,,, may not be my best work yet.
part one
Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.
Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.
Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.
We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!
You blink.
With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.
You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.
It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.
You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.
Resignation — that was what you felt right now.
While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.
You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.
So you've developed a solution. Sort of.
You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.
I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.
You wait for his response.
Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?
Ai: You wound me, darling.
You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.
Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.
Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.
Ai: Talk to you later?
Sure.
You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.
A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?
A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.
It's been days since I last heard you say it.
You merely glance at it and swipe it away.
Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.
You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.
You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.
Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.
The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.
Rather, he bides his time.
Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.
There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.
You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.
You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.
Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?
Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.
Ai: What more should I do, hm?
Ai: Kneel? How cruel.
Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.
You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.
Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.
Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?
Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.
Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.
Ai: To love you.
Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?
Ai: I love you.
You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.
Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'
It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'
You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.
Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.
At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.
But could you really?
Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.
Fuck.
You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?
You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.
You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.
RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX
Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.
I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.
I love you.
You press send and wait.
And wait.
Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he wants like with your phone.
You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.
All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.
A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.
Theodore Callisto.
Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.
This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.
At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.
How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...
I hope you keep your word, darling.
- Your beloved, Ai.
P's. I love you too.
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minswriting · 1 month
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18+ | nsfw | mdni | masturbation (m)
imagine spencer being so worked up because of you. you, his beautiful coworker that is so incredibly amazing. your smile is contagious, your personality is absolutely wonderful, and to top it all, you’re drop dead gorgeous. and today, when you came into the bureau wearing a pair of tight slacks and a blouse that revealed just enough, spencer knew he was done for.
every look you had given him, every smile, every word you spoke went directly to his cock. and usually, spencer had more than enough self control. but today most certainly wasn’t one of those days. he rushed to the bathroom, locking himself in the stall as he rushed to unbuckle his pants.
god he was so painfully hard.
spencer let out a shaky breath of relief when he pulled his pants down, allowing his cock to breathe. his length was red and angry, begging to be touched. the genius doctor licked his lips as he brought his right hand to his length, not bothering to tease himself as he began pumping himself hard and fast.
he couldn’t help but imagine you on your knees, looking up at him as his cock was in your mouth. your eyes glossy from his cock hitting the back of your throat and his fingers entangled in your hair. spencer wanted to fuck your mouth so bad.
he jerked himself off, putting his other hand on his mouth so that he didn’t let out any noises or moans. his eyes were closed in pleasure as he threw his head back. he thumbed the tip of his cock, causing his hips to jerk in his hand. and soon, with a loud gasp, he was cumming to the idea of cumming down your throat.
and when he finished, he took a moment to gather his breath, taking toilet paper to wipe off the cum on his hand. he pulled his pants back up, buckling his belt, before walking out of the stall to wash his hands. and soon, he was back at his desk with a smile on his face, as though absolutely nothing happened.
he took a glance at you while you glanced at him. and suddenly, the blood was rushing straight down to his cock as though he hadn’t just taken care of the problem.
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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months
Note
A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant
Just a thought 🫠
You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉
Description: 👆⬆️
Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows
You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him
He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea
Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that
You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you
You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel
You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact
Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control
He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry
Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself
Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort
You're just so sad sometimes
Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it
He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole
It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two
Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple
Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting
So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-
YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?
Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again
But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before
Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others
"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"
When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately
"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"
Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving
You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there
Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it
Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely
You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now
If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are
How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you
The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart
Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked
You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud
Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you
You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery
But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair
And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-
Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror
"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"
"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"
"Because you-what?"
It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place
"You got me pregnant..?"
He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-
When did he end up on the bed?
Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed
Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head
Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say
"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"
"T-Thanks Vaggie..."
The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for
"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"
"Don't you love me..?"
He'll be back in 10 minutes
The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around
"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."
"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."
Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone
Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now
They just want to see
As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother
Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel
"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"
She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad
Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you
"With a little help from the big boss of-"
"You haven't left already?"
"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"
"Your what now?
Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it
How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him
The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you
"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."
Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now
Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there
"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"
Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby
Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him
He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay
But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really
If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding
Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out
He's so proud to show you the finished look
The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you
He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you
Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along
Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him
Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can
Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms
You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile
"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."
Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her
Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants
TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-
"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"
"I would love nothing more, my dear..."
He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands
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A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS
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ryukatters · 7 months
Text
drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
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⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking
⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader
⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love
⟡ wc: 1.4k
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Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.
The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.
He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.
Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.
It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.
Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…
…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.
You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.
“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.
“That’s what you get,” you laugh.
“You’re mean.”
“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”
His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.
Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.
“My head hurts,” he whines.
“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.
Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”
“What?”
“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.
“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”
“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.
“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.
“Satoru…”
Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”
He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”
“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”
You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.
He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.
You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.
He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.
Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.
His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”
You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.
Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.
“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.
You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.
Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.
“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”
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a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎
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sprout-fics · 6 months
Text
Sex with Simon is intense. 
Physically, emotionally, sensationally intense. Simon handles you like he would a prized rifle, tracing his fingers across your grooves and indentations. His warm breath fogs across your spine, his hands guiding you into position so he can squeeze the trigger to your desire. He knows your body like he knows the fractured web of scars across his skin. He’s taken ages to find the parts of you that will make you whimper in utter overwhelm into the mattress, will make your thighs shake with the force of your climax. He disassembles you over and over and over again, only to put you back together better than you were. 
Simon is focused, completely involved in the process of defiling you- like he can’t get enough of the taste. When you first began sleeping together it was a rushed, sloppy affair. You’d catch each other after missions, in the evenings after training, getting back to the barracks after being out at the pub. Hurried hands and clashing lips, stripping each other with little regard for where the clothes landed, too eager to feel skin against skin. That had been when you were less than you were now, simply using each other to shake the anger and the fear of the world you lived in.
When things became softer, when you had cried into his arms and confessed you needed him, things changed. Simon eased at the sharp edges of him, allowed you to dip your fingers into the shallow end of his vulnerabilities while he kept himself still guarded under the surface. Each kiss, each breath, each roll of his hips against yours allowed you to drag him an inch closer to you, to sink yourself and drown in the depths of his scarcely concealed emotions for you. 
Yet there’s always an ounce of control that remains in his touch, as if he refuses to allow you into the shadows with him. It comes in the way his voice purrs down at you darkly, the hand on your hip dragging you upward to him with firm insistence. It comes in the way of him hushing you through a hiccuping orgasm where your body finally reaches the extent of its endurance. Simon is a force, domineering and insistent, forcing you to bend to the gale of him like a sapling in a storm. Yet his lips trace gently over the shell of your ear, whisper filthy, torrid praises there until your cry of pleasure muffles his voice.
He handles you the way he wants, forces you to buckle onto your front as he drapes himself across your spine with his thick and heavy weight. He growls down at you when you try to hurry him on, low in warning, and then coos at your glassy, lidded eyes. He holds your hand as he sets himself to devouring your slick folds, and you clutch at him as you buck and writhe because it’s so good. He dangles your orgasms out of reach until you beg, teary eyed and desperate, only to force you over the zenith with such power it snaps the synapses in your brain. His hand catches your face when you try to turn shyly from his chuckling, dark taunts of your reedy moans and breathless please. He sucks dark bruises just below your collar with a hiss of “Mine.” that would scare you with its possessiveness had you not entrusted yourself to him long ago.
You’re his. Completely. You didn’t know when you first met, and even then he refused to admit to himself what you were to him. Now, with every rumbling moan and dirty words whispered against your skin, you have no possibility of denying it. You’ve tangled the fibers of his soul in your fingers, tug on them so he falls into you. He doesn’t try to catch himself, merely wraps his arms around you and drags you to him with fervent, dizzying kisses that leave you breathless and reeling. Simon shapes you to him in the way you both need, and after every time you spend in his bed you feel the weight of his need for you in the sated sluggishness of your limbs, blissfully tucking yourself into his side. He turns your limp form to him, cups your chin to kiss you gently, hums a note of pride there in the hazy, dreamy stare you offer him. 
“Mine.” He whispers, as if to remind himself, and descends to your lips once more. You don’t need to be reminded. For you there’s only Simon. Even before you two touched for the first time, there’s never been anyone else. You’re his. 
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hrdenha · 2 months
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— things they'll never know | s.jy
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SYNOPSIS: a visitor at night doesn't sound so bad, isn't it? Not when it's your step brother who you spend your time fantasizing to.
PAIRINGS: stepbrother!sim jaeyun x virgin!reader
WARNINGS: MDNI! CONTROL WHAT YOU CONSUME. age gap, jake would be five years older than y/n who's now in college. loss of virginity. soft yandere jake although you really dont know what goes inside his head. strong fantasies by jake. yn being innocent but not so innocent. after shower escapades. silent touches here and there. endearment. IDK ANYMORE JUST READ. not edited, but hope y'all enjoy!
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His home was silent when he got home from work. What can he expected when he's living alone? But sometimes he can imagine that you're here with him instead of your parents house. You're basically the reason why he bought a house much larger for a person living alone. He can imagine you reading a few books in the garden's patio, or play with layla in the living room, or maybe— fucking you in the kitchen as you tried your best to wash the dishes. Having your favorite skirt pushed up on your body as he fuck you with one leg up, your breast bouncing in every thrust he made.
And the best thing he wanted to do, fucking you in a room full on your pictures. Doing everything he can think of to have your pleasure out of you while being surrounded by the pictures he silently took whenever he had the time. Some pictures being your family's, you and jake together with your father and his mother... all smiles. As if the both of you didn't touch each other inappropriately. What would your father thinks if he knew every little thing that jake did and will do to his daughter?
Jake wasn't a saint. He knew he needed you, in more ways than he admitted to you. But, it's fine. You'll come around eventually. Maybe one day, you're the one who's trying to desperately cling on him begging for something jake will gladly give. He just have to wait.
After refreshing himself with a glass of cold water, he finally ascend the stairs towards his room. His senses immediately welcomed by the sweet scent of vanilla lingering in the air. The soft sound of water rushing was heard at the second door on the hallway, just beside his room. He stopped, the scent envelop his mind like a siren's curse hypnotizing it's prey to walk further into their trap. He didn't even heard the sound of water came into halt.
The impression of being alone was now thrown in the trash as jake walked in front of the door to knock. His hands doesn't even had the chance to make contact with the wooden door when it swung open revealing your small frame in front of him. The sweet redolence of vanilla scent became prominent each second passed that the door was opened.
Jake's breath was taken away from his lungs. You were standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a small white towel hugging your curves preventing everyone... most especially him to see everything. Your skin glisten from the water droplets that were kissing your soft skin; your wet hair was elegantly slicked back down on your back. He can perfectly picture your fingers slowly combing your hair as you take your bath.
"Jakey!" Jake internally flinched when he heard your cheerful voice. He look straight into your eyes as though he wanted to read your mind. 'fuck it!' He cursed before taking you by surprise, kissing you as if there was no tomorrow and to his surprise, you respond. He thought you'll scream at him, even slap him but no you fucking open your lips for him.
You groaned on his lips, hands snaking into jake's neck while he push your weight agasint the now closed bathroom door. He pushes his knee closer to you, practically letting you grind your core onto it by yourself.
"Look at that, flower. Do you want jakey touching you?" You nodded but jake decided it wasn't enough. "Use your words" He growled taking in your flushed face. "Mmm- I do want you touching me, jakey" You replied breathlessly on his neck. Jake's hand tug at the flimsy white towel causing it to drop and completely flash your bare body in his eyes. Jake cursed taking in the sight in front of him. He felt a surge of hot blood flowing through his veins and then to the very tip of his dick. Not now. Have patience, jake. Fuck.
He let himself touch you. His hands travelling down your soft skin, even flicking your nipples with his tongue.
"Can you ride my face, flower? I'll promise jakey will make you feel good."
It's been a week since that stunt the two of you pulled. After making you cum with his mouth, nothing more than that happened again in your disappointment, but that didn't stopped Jake in making advances. Giving subtle and not so subtle touches here and there. Grabbing your boobs just fine and saying it was all an accident. Or, that he wants to give you a massage and that came with a super close massage on your inner thighs giving accidental touched on your clothed pussy.
But then, you were still all smiles to him, as if nothing happened. So good in just receiving what he gives. Even closing your eyes whenever a certain touch got more desperate than the earlier ones but then again, you were receiving it innocently. As if being touched like this by your step brother is just a normal thing. As if your pussy didn't shake from the pleasure he just gave you the first day you moved in.
It was the start of summer vacation and instead of going with your parents, you decided to not go and stay in the country with him. With an excuse of wanting to have a brother-sister bonding and giving them their own 'time' together. That's a nice thing to say, right? No suspicions.
As the day progress, so is Jake's touches. Today is no different. Both of you in the theater room, watching a movie that both of you knew was long unnoticed for. The room was large enough for 20 people but despite the wide selection of comfy sofa, you decided that sitting on Jake's lap was the comfiest.
Nothing happened after you did, except from the 'accidental' grinding of your hips as you try to find a 'comfy position', both of you keep on watching together after that with occasional munch and drink from the food you ready.
Things escalated when you decided to step up your game, grabbing Jake's timid hands and putting it on your tummy making sure he was touching you directly on your skin. That's the reason why you wear a loose crop top shirt and a matching skirt with a cotton shorts that's thin enough to be called undies.
It seems like the man understand your purpose. He silently though shamelessly touched where you needed him to. He didn't react when he realized you're not wearing anythhng underneath, trying to keep his cool. Trying not to push you down and fuck you like an animal with no regards if you'll get hurt or not. That's what you should get for trying to push your luck but instead, the thing he pushed is your top. Pushing the material just enough on top of your breast for an easy access. The only thing he didn't do is touch you down there. Just a few inner thigh strokes wouldn't make the cut and you knew that he knew that, you're not the one whose feeling inadequately and deprived, the tent in his pants screams the same. And it feels like he was doing this on purpose whether he's teasing you or himself.
"I'm sleepy now, jakey..." You mumbled turning around to him before kissing the corner of his lips— you don't have a problem kissing him directly on the lips? — then pulling down your top which stopped his hands. "Goodnight" That's the last thing you said before walking to your room, the wetness in between your legs reminds you evidently of your step brother.
It was late at night, dreams are starting to work their way onto you albeit slowly, "Hey, flower..." The bed dipped and you heard a sound of shuffling from behind. "You asleep?"
You hummed, hoping it will be enough to answer his question. No, you're not. How can you, when you spend the last hours fantasizing about your stepbrother. Your finger weren't even enough to make you calm down. You still wanted more.
"Can't fall asleep"
"Can I help you fall asleep? Hmm, flower?" Jake whispered nuzzling by your neck as you lay on your back.
"Yes please", When the confirmation came out, jake couldn't help but groan. How can you be such a good, good, good girl just for him?
"Okay, just relax... let— jakey do his thing" That's the last thing you heard before a pair of hands travelled across your body, touching and kneading with lust and need. So tender and gentle with matching butterfly kisses over your clothes.
Jake pushed your top upwards, revealing your breast that never fails to make him hard. It's not small and not so big, just enough... just perfect fit whenever he let his hands cupped it. Now his mind is wandering to how it would bounce as you ride him. He can't keep himself from touching it after the fact that you silently give him a go signal to have his way on them earlier. And, just like earlier, it immediately respond by how fast it hardened.
His hands then continues that stopped at your waist, massaging it before making you open your legs, having it settle on either side of his body. Jake pushed closely, kissing your inner thighs with affection. Feeling his hot breath near your core made goosebumps rise on your skin. It took him some time before finally deciding to pull the material to the side that covers your nakedness.
"Shit—" He lowly cussed. Your eyes opened at that, peaking over him wordlessly asking what happened. "No panties, flower?"
"It's comfy..."
He snickers, eyes sparkling as he look down on you, "No, we both know that's not true flower." Not when you're this wet. "I bet you're waiting me to do this... hm?" You felt a finger tracing your slit, gently... softly, painfully as if a wind just traced your wetness just to tease you. "Just like earlier at the theater room?
"No teasing... jakey, please"
"Sorry, flower. Can't help myself. Is this all for me? Because of me?" And again, the tip of his finger ghosted over your line. You desperately chased it, unconsciously raising your hips just to let his warmth touch you.
Jake hummed, finally letting your wetness coat his fingers. Firmly rubbing your slit with the pad of his middle finger, making sure that every thrust would send pleasure on your clit. Wetness never stopped, the same time whimpers came out of your mouth.
And so, he let the same finger thrust inside. Slowly, having his finger feel the hotness from your walls before adding another digit. You moaned in response when he stared pumping it, can't keep himself from smiling just from the feeling of your walls. "...just my fingers, baby, and your pussy won't let it leave."
Jake let himself watch as you give yourself away for the pleasure. Look at you, writhing in pure bliss. What can your parents say when they know that the only time they can hear your voice raise was the time you where moaning in pleasure as your brother fingers you? Bet you can even be louder when it's his dick that do the work.
Your arms snake around his neck pulling him closer to enclose him with a kiss that jake gladly took, fighting for dominance that he's clearly winning. The same thing he wanted to do, dominate you.
Moans become louder as well as your breaths became heavier. Jake picked up his pace, finger you as he played your breast with his mouth. Can't have them go unnoticed, he love the way your boobs move as he fingers you. Your walls started tightening, and so is jake's cock twitch inside his boxers. With his fingers still thrusting, jake finally felt your orgasm.
He immediately dived down your pussy, licking your juices wholeheartedly as you whimper from how good he was making you feel.
"I want more, jakey...please"
Jake lick your pussy one last time before looking at you. Trying to fight the smirk that keeps making its way on his lips when he heard despiration in your voice, then faking the sadness in his face is just an easy thing to do.
"But I can't flower. I can't possibly do that to you. We know the rules right?" Jake keeps pushing your buttons, he should be. It's about time you choose, right? But, maybe he can have his way just this night. "I don't even know if you really wanted this. You're the one who told me that rule."
"But— I do. I want to. Let's forget that rule. I... I don't know what I'm saying that time" You replied breathlessly. And, jake felt he just win the lottery. He really had you where he needed. Letting you realize on your own that you want him as much as he wants you. Making you want the same thing you think should be forbidden from the start of this god forsaken relationship
"You really want me to help you, flower? Is that the reason why you eagerly wanted to spend your vacation in my house? You even rejected the idea of switzerland with our parents just so you can be here."
You tried to nod but stopped, he wouldn't like that. "Yes, I do. please." Trying to make your voice clear, but failed miserably just from the orgasm you had a few minutes ago.
"but how can I do that to you? you haven't even seen my cock yet. What if it scares you?" Jake continues to ask. His voice can make people believe that he's really concerned but the small patch of precum staining his boxer says otherwise.
"Let me see it. I promise I can take it." He hummed kissing your forehead before pulling you to sit up as he let himself do the same on the bed. "Then, take it out flower. Come on, here..." Jake guide your hand on top of his clothed tent, before using his to support his body weight as he watched you intently.
You give it an experimental squeeze, and jake can't help but groaned. "It's— hard..." You then pulled the material down, you didn't even need to pull his cock out when it willingly revealed itself to you. "...and big"
The man giggled from your reaction. "That's all you, baby. That's because of you." He whispered tracing your cheeks as you keep your eyes on his dick in awe.
"I did this?" Jake nodded, "That's why you should take responsibility. Now, how about giving it attention? Let's say a few licks? A kiss? Maybe, a thing or two from what you always do to that lollipop I gave you last time. Your call, flower. Just don't bite it okay? You don't want jakey to bleed to death, don't you?"
You laughed lowly, you certainly don't want to hurt jake. That's the last thing you want to do, the first thing being the want to pleasure him like the way he does to you.
You gave it a few pump. Jake was thick, with an average length. The tip is pink, balls are in same color, and gosh, he has the most beautiful and clean looking cock. Not that you seen others, jake wouldn't let you do that, of course. But then again, you decided that you don't want to do that. Not when you knew that Jake's is enough. It was standing proud in front of you, waiting just like it's owner who's watching you intently.
Your tongue then make in contact with his tip, giving it a few lick, earning confidence before you finally take the first few parts inside your mouth. "ah shit, flower... fuck! that mouth..." And from the looks of it, you're doing a good job. Your tongue swirled with his length as you tried to get accustomed on bobbing your head.
"Hmm... just like that. Tighten your throat for me flower. Yes— yes! fuck. You suck like a fucking whore."
You finally got your own pace, sucking him just the way he like as his tip clashed on your throat learning to take advantage of it as you tighten the cavern, earning more praises from jake. His words together with his hand on top of your head pushing you gently but firmly on his dick feels like he's testing your limits and it's working, it even sends waves of pleasure down your pussy. You can feel it embarrassingly clenching to nothing which didn't go unnoticed to the man.
"Gonna cum, flower... gonna fill up that filthy mouth with my cum. Then I'll kiss you, letting myself taste my own cum from your lips before spitting it again on your mouth so you can swallow it. You like that hm?" He is so dirty but you like it just from the way you moaned while his cock is practically seeking pleasure on your mouth. His dick twitch on your throat the same time jake's hand pushed your head further down causing you to gagged from his tip. Thought he'll get angry but guess that just added to his pleasure.
You let him keep you in that positon for a few seconds, only pulling out when you felt his hands finally stopped pushing you down. Jake cums a lot, majority of it swim straight away down your throat knowing your last circumstance while some of it still manage to fill your mouth with some escaping down your neck and into his lap.
"Sorry, flower. Keep myself waiting for you for two weeks now" Jake whispered taking your hand before pulling you closer to him as you tried to swallow his cum, which you gagged embarrassingly but still manage to do so. The man laughed settling the two of you in a more comfy position, with his back now on the headboard and you straddling his lap.
"Don't have to force yourself to swallow it..." He said pinching your chin in affection before tracing the line of cum on your neck up to the side of your mouth before enveloping you in a messy kiss that you gladly respond with. Jake groaned when he tasted himself on your mouth, his hands started travelling on your body not leaving a spot untouched. He then break the kiss before swiftly pulling your top off of you, attacking your chest as his next target.
You whined in response, arching your back to make your nipples closer to his attention. "Ja-jakey...?" His cock made its presence known when it hardened again, poking on your pussy when you're directly sitting on it. "Feel that flower? Told you it's all because of you" Jake said in a matter of fact tone, licking your neck before sucking a spot on it intended to leave something. "Bet it can slide right inside just from how wet you are, flower." And it's true, the only thing stopping his dick from sliding inside is the presence of your cotton shorts.
"But we can't do that, knowing that your a virgin. You can get hurt if we do that..." Jake's words started to get drowned when you started grinding your hips, creating the friction in between, desperately holding... chasing something.
"No need to do that, up" You immediately stand up on the bed, gripping his shoulder for support as he started pulling the last piece of clothing you had with ease then making you straddle him once more.
You gasped when you did so. It was much more different when feeling him skin to skin, feeling the warmth, coating his dick with your wetness. "You're making me crazy, flower." His hand came on your waist guiding your hips to keep grinding on his cock. Your juices and his precum mixing heavenly tainting your folds. Jake then felt you kneeled, taking his cock on your hand before lining it on your hole.
He knew it wouldn't work but he let you, he can tend to the problem later. For now, let him feel you despite your stubbornness. You slowly sink on him, but it won't work. Is it because his thick? Maybe you're just that scared? Or, because of the itching pain that keeps scratching on your core as you forced yourself down his tip. But, you still want more.
"Jakey, I can't... I don't think this will work"
"Then let me? Would you let me do the work, flower?"
"Yes" With that, Jake pushed you down. Laying you on the bed before hovering on top of you. He took his cock, slapping it on top of your tummy, measuring how far it can go if he'll make you take him full. And it goes down your navel, fuck. That's so hot. You even felt it twitch again, his precum leaving a stain on your belly button. Even gigling as you touch his tip to get some precum and licking it with your tongue, which jake groaned.
He then let the tip scratched up and down on your folds, making sure he'll hit your clit everytime that makes you flinch in pleasure. When he had enough, jake then push your legs revealing your pussy to him in more ways one can imagine.
"Keep this open, okay?" He reminded as he tapped on your legs, "This will hurt for awhile but I know that you can take it." He kissed you again now in comfort, "You ready?"
You nodded your head, as you felt his tip slowly sliding in. When the whole tip was in, jake stopped looking at you reminding you to take a deep breath. And you did, you felt yourself relaxed ready to take another inch but the next thing you knew, jake immediately shoved his cock inside in one swift move.
"Fuck!" He cursed at the same time you screamed. "Ahh! It hurts, jake... shit, Why did you do that?" Tears now staining your eyes, the pain on your core still evident. "I'm sorry, flower. It would still hurt otherwise, why not have it in one go."
"Fuck..." You whispered, trying your best not to move or even breath.
Jake kissed your lips, then giving kisses all over your face "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He's apologizing but you both knew he never really meant it. Not when,
"Hmm, you don't have any idea how long I waited for this, y/n..." The pain started to subside from the way jake's thumb circled your clit that the matched with his small thursts. The diversion of your attention from the pain to the pleasure that jake is doing is deemed effective. It didn't took long before your voice started to build up to a whimper. You even grinding your body on your own now, "Move, jakey..."
He gladly do so. Jake started pulling out before thrusting right back in. He looked on the way his cock disappear from your pussy, clearly seeing the lines of blood on the edge of his gun and it turns him on even further.
"You're making me crazy, i swear. So, fucking crazy!" Jake's thrusts picked up its pace and so does your moan. The night was calm and silent but there's another story going on inside your room. The four corners of walls echoes the harsh slapping of skins, curses, groans, and moans.
"Jakey... ugh, jake! Yeeah..." Lewd noise continues to dominate and no one will care. No one will disturb the two of you. You can scream and cursed all you want and you'll never worry about a thing.
"Does it feel good, huh? Yeah, flower? Does my cock makes you feel good? Now, I can fuck you like a slut you truly are." The pleasure is intense. He keeps hitting your sweet spots without fail. His weight on top of you, his voice, his smell, his looks all mixed together in every thrust he make to push this pure bliss on you. You wanted him You needed him.
You can't even think straight now, the only thing your brain can think of is his cock rutting inside you and how you want it to keep going.
"Flower's now dumb with my cock? Bet you can't even function now without me fucking your pussy everyday. You like that? You like it if I'll fill you up with my cum? Have you walk outside with my cum running down your legs?" Jake laughed when you moaned in response, the unfocused look on your eyes as well as the way you clutching the sheets and your pillow is enough answer for him.
"Or, should I just make you pregnant? Right, make you carry my babies all night long. I'll fuck you every chance I get. I'll never leave you alone, not even for a second... ugh— will fuck you in the kitchen, fuck you while you wash the dishes or just doing the laundry. I'll even fuck you while we dine, will eat you out instead the dinner you cook before fucking you and cumming inside you again. And when you're pregnant, I'll still keep fucking you. I'll wait as your breast—" He harsly cupped your right boob before squeezing it, "becomes full with milk then I'll gladly drink it as I fuck you again and again until the baby is born. Our parents wouldn't even know that I'm the one who'll impregnated you, flower."
"Jakey... please,"
"You really think I'll let you go after this? I'll make sure you'll keep on coming back. Your my own personal slut, and sluts keep their pussy open for use whenever I like."
"Yes, yes. I'm yours, j-just yours jakey!" Jake pushed your legs further down to open, his calloused hands firmly pinning it on place as he desperately chase your high as well as his. "Fuck, flower... your tight—" It'll leave a bruise, and both of you knew it but doesn't care. Jake loves to leave his mark on you in anyway possible, and this is just one way after a few more ways he can think of, not that you mind.
"Uh, sh— I think I'm..."
Jake's thrust didn't stop even after you cummed, he keeps on rutting his cock inside even making you work for your third climax of the night as he chase that fine inkling of orgasm that keeps hiding away from him. Pleasure was on but he still finding something... more. And, it didn't took long before he finally got it. Groaning with his eyes closed as his thrust goes frantic before feeling his cum mixing with yours in painting your walls. He moaned in contentment as he reached his peak, laughing breathlessly after the stunt.
Jake gives you a kiss, more passionate and sweet. The harsh and desperate movement nowhere to be found as he keep his cock inside you with small thrust, as if he's keeping his cum from escaping your womb.
"You really want me pregnant?" You whispered after chuckling. Can't deny that you don't want anything other than his dick inside you. "I believe, I clearly expressed my opinion about that earlier flower"
You felt him pulled out, the same time you felt a hot line dripping down your hole. Jake on the other hand traced the line of cum before pushing it back on your whole that made you laughed.
"Jakey! You know that we can't..." The man pulled the covers on both of your body. Jake made himself comfy beside you his fingers tracing circles on your upperbody. "Why not? We're not the same blood and our parents can stay whenever they are if you want. Then, no one will stop us."
"You can do that?" You asked, hands busy playing with his hair. Jake simply answered yes. You don't know the things he can do much more the things his money can do. He can do that if you wanted him to. Maybe, you two will just get a call one day about an allegedly 'accident' that your parents are involved into.
Jake can do things. Hell this is much more easier compared to the things he did just to make you completely his. And, the parents will just be a small 'disturbance' for him. For now, he'll just let them have their fun on another country away from you or him. They wouldn't get hurt with the things they wouldn't know, do they?
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© hrdenha | 2024
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jaemified · 10 months
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keep it quiet - choi seungcheol
“you gotta keep it quiet for me baby”
pairing ; bf!seungcheol x fem!reader
genre ; smut (MDNI), porn w minimal plot, fluff towards the end, est relationship, secret relationship
warnings ; swearing, soft dom cheol, pillow princess reader, unprotected sex (pls keep it safe</3), soft sex, groping, sucking, praise kink (f and m), begging, fingering, sorta manhandling, marking, mention of seokmin jerking off and pictures being taken
wordcount ; 2.1k
synopsis ; you and seungcheol never liked taking risks, especially with 8 of his 12 roommates home. but, up until your self control couldn’t handle it anymore, you both found it was best to keep it quiet.
read below the cut !
despite being together for a year now, neither yours or seungcheols friends knew. though, you both would post a little corny caption on social media hinting towards one another, none of your friends were able to connect the dots.
except miyeon or seungkwan, they had their suspicions at times but you were still able to keep them from knowing.
cheol had always liked things private, finding it best to keep what’s closest to him, closest to him. you were the same way, and you weren’t sure what or how your friends would act, so for the sake of your own anxiety you both decided to keep your relationship secret.
so, you were celebrating your one year anniversary. it was big for the two of you, yet you still kept the celebration to a minimum.
seungcheol had taken you to your favorite restaurant, then a small ice cream parlor before heading to the park to talk and enjoy one another.
that was, until he realized his roommates all were busy for the day and thought it would be a good idea to take you home with him.
of course, you had been there before with your friends seeing as your circle was intersecting with one another, but you had never been there by yourself, not wanting to take the risk.
but cheol wanted to take advantage of this, with all 12 of his roommates busy for the whole day, you could do whatever you wanted and he’d have you home by the time they came back.
or so he thought.
you were under seungcheol, his hand clamped tightly over your mouth to suppress your moans as he slowly but deeply thrusted into you.
the way you looked up at him with those hazy eyes had him over the moon, he knew he hit the jackpot when he fell for you.
the way you clenched around him so tightly had him releasing even the slightest low whimpers.
he removed his hand from your mouth to support himself up to thrust into you at a better angle.
seungcheol pushed one of your legs up to your chest and reveled in how good you felt, sucking on his tip as he plunged back into you deeply with a small groan.
neither of you expected for soonyoung, chan, joshua, mingyu, wonwoo, jeonghan, jun, and especially not jihoon to come home all at the same time.
with the 8 of them scattered around the dorm, you did your best to bite back any sounds but cheol was fucking into you too good it was hard not to have any reaction.
your eyes rolled back as you let out an almost too loud mewl while he hit that one spot that had you arching your back.
he immediately jolted at the sound that left your throat, it was too pretty, but only for him to hear.
seungcheol slowed down his pace and released your leg, not letting your high slip away while still going slow enough for you not to make any noise.
you reached down to rub your clit as you groaned at the loss of friction before he softly slapped your hand.
“no touching.”
“i cant! its not enough!” you cried out as you felt cheol slip his cock out, and replace it with his fingers.
he slowly pushed two of his fingers into you, letting out a shaky breath at how tightly you sucked him in despite all the foreplay earlier.
“were my fingers not enough for you earlier? god. you’re as tight as a virgin.” he groaned as he watched how your slick coated his fingers. “you’re absolutely dripping for me.” he scoffed.
“only for you,” you whimpered. “need your cock, please.” you begged, digging your nails into his bicep.
“you gotta keep it quiet for me baby. you don’t want them finding out, do you?”
you let out a choked sob as he began to pick up the pace, the sound of his fingers moving against your wetness being the only audible thing in the room.
seungcheol leaned his head down to wrap his lips around your hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around it before taking your whole tit into his mouth as he massaged the inside of your walls.
“fuck. so good cheol. feel so good..”
“yeah?”
he began to relentlessly finger fuck you, biting his lip at the little sounds that escaped your lips as you did the best you could to be quiet.
“you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“ill be a good girl. yours! just, need you in me. please.” you whimpered before throwing your head back into the cotton pillow as cheol mercilessly hit your soft spot.
you clenched around nothing in sensitivity before he had slipped his dick back into you slowly, never missing the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure.
he began to slowly thrust into you again, almost a little too hard though as the headboard of the bed began to tap against the wall, almost too risky as jeonghans room was on the other side.
he didnt want to end up like seokmin, who they found jerking off after some wet dream in his room. they had barged in before taking some pictures and leaving.
privacy really was non existent in this household. good thing seungcheol made sure the door was locked out of paranoia.
“c-cheol. the wall.” you managed to get out.
he said nothing, but flipped you over so his back was pressed against the mattress and you were sitting on top of him.
you began to move your hips against his, grinding deep onto his cock before it got too much for you after such a short amount of time.
cheol always knew you were a pillow princess at heart.
he pulled you down so you could rest on his chest while he moved his hips up into you slowly.
seungcheol pressed a kiss on top of your head as you tried your best to meet his thrusts.
you sat up, propping yourself up by having your hands flat against his chest.
you both knew you wouldn’t be able to finish off if you did all the work, so you continued to meet him half way, moving your hips down as he thrusted up into you.
seungcheol moved back up to rest his head up a bit so he was slightly upright, sticking his tongue out to suck on your tit again, using one hand to fondle and grope at the one getting lesser attention, while using his other hand to tightly grip at your waist.
you looked down at him, a suppressed moan escaping your lips as you relished in the sight beneath you. your beautiful boyfriend under you, looking up into your eyes with the utmost attractive gaze while he licked and sucked at your chest.
“fuck. you’re so pretty under me. make me feel so good cheol. so so good.” you managed to whisper, the pleasure getting to your head as you felt the band in your stomach ready to snap at any moment.
“y/n. ‘m close.” he mumbled as he moved to leave marks up on your neck.
“inside.”
his eyes widened in surprise, “are you sure?”
“please cheol.” you sighed with a shaken up voice that came out more as an elongated moan.
that was all it took for him to go over the edge, his warm seed being released into you, coming out in thick white ropes.
he enveloped your lips into a soft kiss before letting out a twisted grin, or whatever that was as he was still pussy drunk via post orgasm. your eyebrows raised as you knew that stupid look on his face meant he was up to no good.
seungcheol pulled out of you, ignoring how his cum leaked out of your sopping wet hole, before grabbing your waist tightly and flipping you over so you were on your back once more, before he slipped back into you so he was sure to drive you over the edge without making any noise, deep and slow, yet fast enough so you could feel your high approaching.
“c-cheol. im close. so close.” you whined.
he moved a hand down to rub at your clit with the pad of his thumb aggressively, as you let out an exasperated sigh.
“so good for me, pretty girl. youre my baby arent you? my pretty baby.” he cooed softly as he felt you release all over him, thrusting into you slowly to ride out your high.
“such a good girl. cheols good girl. there you go. let cheol take care of you hmm?” he hummed, pressing his lips together into a smile.
you whimpered at the empty feeling of nothing as he pulled out to lie down next to you, pulling you into a hug as you kissed his cheek.
“hold on.” he told you as he heard his phone buzz.
broz b4 hoezzz🥶🥶😴💤
9 online • 4 inactive
lee chanz ; yo we just left home so if yall want anything pay up and place your order nd we’ll get it @/wooziz @/vernonz @/coupz @/myunghoez @/kyeommiez @/kwanniez
kwanniez ; i thought @/wooziz was with u
gyuz ; he left to the studio
wooziz ; i want fried chicken
vernonz ; me and seokmin will share tteokbokki
kwanniez ; chinese food for me and @/myunghoez thx
hanniez ; @/coupz ? you want anything or not unless u jus want the leftovers, we can drop it off to your office
gyuz ; @/coupz ??
cheol smirked as he showed you the chat room displayed on his phone, not even realizing they had all left earlier. “one more round?”
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