#to rip it all apart. i say this hoping i do. i say this still as a waterside cliff.
Note
would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?
alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)
hope this isn’t too much!
and you’re doing awesome!
thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3
An Out.
Law x Fem Reader
Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.
Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that
Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.
There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.
For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person. He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.
Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.
Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine. ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.
Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be. If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.
And yet… he was still pushed into this.
A date around downtown with this girl. She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say. At all.
First red flag: she mentioned her ex. Three times. In four minutes. Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found. Second red flag: the clinginess. Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground. Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word. She wouldn’t stop talking about herself. Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…
He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on. He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later. It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.
“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.
“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.
“The bookstore? What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout. It wasn’t a good look on her.
‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say. Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.
The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.
“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.
Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace. Out the window. Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement. He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear. His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible. He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.
She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.
If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero. His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought. Or at least, it fucking better.
His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10. It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment. He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.
“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side. “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”
“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.
To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another. And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.
“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.
Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight. With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork. He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was. He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books. The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.
But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.
Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.
When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide. She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Law cocked an eyebrow, confused. “Yeah, why?”
“That girl you’re with is making you miserable. You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed. Her eyes were clearly concerned. “Are you dating her?”
Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier. “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”
The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern. “Do you want an out?”
“A what?”
“An out,” she repeated. “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.” Time was running out. At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.
Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom. With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”
The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase. Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.
He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.
The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his. Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.
His first kiss.
“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.
The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return. “Baby, please just take me back! My life isn’t complete without you!” Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once. The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled. “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you! I’m in shambles! You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”
It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse. As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face. Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.
“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact. “I wasn’t. Until now.”
The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt. “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer! The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!” She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned. The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.
“Ugh, whatever. This place sucks ass anyway. I’m going home.” She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.
And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact. He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real. “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.
The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat. “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.” Her eyes were focused on her work. “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand. Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”
His jaw went slack. “Are you serious?”
“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip. “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time. I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time. And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”
Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma. He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was. He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many. Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked. He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”
The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through. Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack. “It… It was?”
“Yeah.”
Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now. “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”
Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him. “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan. Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh. She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.
“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself. He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.
She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again. “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”
He affirmatively shook his head. “Never. I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered. “Hence this awful set-up date.”
The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily. “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”
Law backpedaled. “What does that mean?”
She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him. She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment. “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters. And you like Sora, clearly.”
Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips. “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?” He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day. The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.
She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing. “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”
Now this was flirting. Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events. The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person. He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.
The girl excitedly revealed her name. “And your’s?”
“Trafalgar Law,” he replied. “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”
“No shit, so do I! I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement. “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime! Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft. “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”
Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer. “I think I can make an exception this time.”
The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him. She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.
Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter. When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half. She gave him a fond smile when he took it.
“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.
Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone. The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city. He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.
Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3
1125-354-9854
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#one piece x reader#law x reader#op x reader#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law#law oneshot#request fics
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One thing about canto VI is like. I see so many people predicting it'll be about Fighting Evil Wife or Breaking Codependent Toxic Relationship and I just kinda think that would suck? If the major theme isn't grief AND love and the way both are seen as like Kinda Weird/inappropriate in the setting of the city. Then I'll be very sad.
#bell.txt#not putting it in the tag i dont wanna spam but yes limbus posting yes girls will be thinking about mortal regret#LIKE. LIKE. remember the discourse on twt about how like it was bad writing that yi sang didnt mourn dongbaek etc#and like that was the thing right. thsts not a thing you do in the city. that was part of why roland (who takes lots after wh's themes)#was so exceptional. that is the whole thing about the sickness of the city#to say it in comedia literary criticism terms: sins are split between wrongly-directed love and excess of love with sloth (lack of love)#being an outlier. i think heatho and generally og wh is about excess of love and not wrongly-directed love. it is the thing that lasts#all the way to the other side. it is the shared coffin and meeting again in the next life#i think itd be AWFULLY disappointing to get some boring boring 'they make each other worse' take. being APART due to societal pressures#makes them worse and horribly lonely. death makes them worse baby. so in my mind thats it#we get to see cathy die or still be unreachable in some way and then in very roland style we get furioso mode#and then the ending is about recognizing the love that has in fact been there all along and carrying it with u. and hoping to reunite some#where some other time. NO more slander of that awful girl. YES to the comfort of the memories.#me typing over my foscolo notes like i can surely post about heathcliff really fast and not write a novel in the tags (unaware)#i have more thoughts about this in regards to ruina with xiao and some stuff from leviathan but in the meantime. listen to my ramblings boy#ALSO. considering that implication. he feels for her what queequeg feels for ishy. ARGHH. RIPPING MY HAIR OFF#ok actually its been enough hours to not spam ppl I'll tag it now for blog org. i should maybe have a tag for posting specifically#limbus company
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you are all wrong!!!
#you are all wrong when you tell me to wait for her how long do i wait how long do i stay asleep waiting for her to wake up#you are all wrong in that the waiting isnt mine to do. to drag someone out of bed you must stand up first#and ive been melding with the linen. you are all wrong and twisted! god what is wrong with your face! angels are walking#in a queue to the electric work building. youve gone all wrong and strange! what is the thing in the mirror?#the thing in the mirror looks wrong because it is mismatched with what is behind it. this is all wrong!#what happened big runner? what happened to all those big words? there is nothing behind you in the mirror#and nothingness is inconceivable so you have to run. either i will run with you all the way to vienna#or else ill be back home in a different country again. ill be home inside books and outside on the water. by the coastline in the heat#i am going to breathe in the sun. for now you are all wrong. you wait for your love to stand up first and then you find yourself#both merged with linen. youre all wrong! you have to leap over this fire. this is all wrong. i am supposed to be devoured by philosophy#and mathematics and love. ive bitten hard enough into your forearm to last another day but if i stay still for a second longer i am going#to rip it all apart. i say this hoping i do. i say this still as a waterside cliff.
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Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny
(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)
It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.
All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.
You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.
“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.
You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“
“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”
You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.
“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”
You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.
“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”
His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”
He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.
You meet his eyes.
And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.
And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.
“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”
You don’t dare answer.
“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”
You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.
“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”
He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.
“Soap!”
“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”
Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.
“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”
You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.
“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.
“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”
He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.
“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”
“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”
The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.
“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”
He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.
“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”
Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.
“Did… did you just…?”
“Say my name again,” he snarls.
You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”
“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.
“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.
“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.
“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”
He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.
“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”
Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -
“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.
And then a death sentence.
“Do it again.”
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Gimmie a Danny and Damian twins au, but not one where they're all gushy gushy and huggy huggy about the fact that they're reunited.
I want one, where they HATE and try to KILL EACH OTHER. Where they're extremely fucked up in their relationship with one another, but can't kill the other because Taila hoped that they could get along.
They spew poison at each other, inflict pain on each other as easy as BREATHING and would leave the other while heavily injured while saying that they could take care of themselves.
I want them to be near mortal-enemies wrapped up in the bodies of two highly-competent and powerful 14 year olds who cannot give a fuck about each other, has a fleeting thought of killing the other on the best of days but doesn't because of their dear mommy Taila.
Then force them to interact with each other after a long period of separation. I don't give a flying FUCK how you manage to do it, perhaps Danny has to run because his parents vivisected him, perhaps the Nasty Burger explosion couldn't be reversed because Clockwork said no and Danny is torn or perhaps Vlad brings him to Gotham for a gala (either redeemed or not redeemed Vlad), etc, etc.
Force these two children who fucking HATE each other under the same roof, make them interact, make them watch each other interact and make comments about it. Maybe even make an unstable Danny try and KILL Damian, but is stopped by the batfam, or maybe make it that Danny can't even bring himself to kill Damian because he's (discounting Talia) the only family he has left.
Maybe even (if you go the Nasty Burger/Dead Fenton fam au) make Danny hate Bruce Wayne's fucking GUTS because this man is trying to replace his dead father (even though Bruce IS his biological father) and hates him even MORE because he looks so similar to Jack's face that he's literally torn whenever he sees him. Make it that he never stays in the same room as Bruce whenever he's not in mask, make it that he tells Bruce TO HIS FACE that he hates the man for trying to replace his dead FUCKING dad and that he will NEVER accept him as one, biologically related or not.
Maybe even make him not like the batfam either just for the fact that they associate with both Bruce and Damian.
(I just remembered about that one post I saw, but BOY is this ramble gonna get even WORSE for dear old Danny. Though this part isn't really necessary could just read the on top bit lol)
Maybe they even find a way to take away his ghost side, and Bruce (With or without Talia) say that it's for the best for him, and Danny? Danny just fucking BREAKS. DOWN. He's full-on crying and screaming at Bruce and maybe has to be held back by the other batkids or not, or maybe he's just fulling on trying to hit Bruce and Bruce either dodges or just takes it.
Saying how fucking DARE he take away his ghost side, that was apart of him and he had NO FUCKING RIGHT to take away something so precious from him. Then Bruce could say that he doesn't need powers, he could be fully if not even more capable as a human.
And Danny just goes "You don't even get it, do you?" And Danny just cries harder because technically that was one the LAST things linking him to his parents. His DEAD parents. Sure, the accident was his fault, but phantom was created because of their portal, in their lab, in their basement.
Even worse if the reveal went RIGHT and they starting accepting how he was half ghost and trying to change their views on ghosts as a whole, only to die. Then, for some guy to just, take away something like that from him?
Maybe Danny would even say that, rip into him about how that was one of the only things linking him to his parents and even if it wasn't he didn't have the fucking right to decide what to do with HIS body.
"You never had to fucking worry about your parents not accepting you, I did. They still loved me regardless, they tried to change for me. But you wouldn't even know what that feels like, would you, you stupid fucking rich boy."
[idk why I typed that part out but just role with it.]
Maybe Bruce tries to sympathize with Danny about his parents, but Danny just doesn't have any fucks left to give about Bruce's life, or anyone else life in Bruce's life at all and just shuts it down or steamrolls over it. At the end of it all Danny is just a crying, shivering wreck and stares down Bruce with eyes full of HATE that tells Bruce one step closer, and he would KILL him.
Maybe then Damian (Either walks in or was there the entire time.) insults Danny over his weakness and depending on his ghost form or something, and Danny just sees fucking RED and jumps on him. No care that he's no longer half ghost, so that he means he could die more easily, no care to anyone else in that room, no care that Talia wanted both of them to get along and not kill each other.
He tries to kill Damian.
He fails miserably, of course, but he still tries. Then tries again and a fucking gain.
Then after all that he just, doesn't come out of his room, or tries to escape and leave Gotham every chance he gets. He never gets far, but he keeps trying, and he never opens up to anyone in the batfam, not even Alfred.
He's just a kid who lost everything he worked so hard for, everything he tried to hide from his biological mother and her assassin league who tried to keep whatever he had left. Now that kid is fueled by nothing but pure, revolting hatred for the people who took even that from him.
Basically like Dark Danny, but way more powerless and fully human.
[Okay that's enough of me rambling.]
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one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.
in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.
disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.
desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.
in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?
we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.
except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?
and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.
to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."
this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.
in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.
the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.
and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.
some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.
the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.
we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?
"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.
there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.
#does this make sense#to do be deleted probably yikes#(takes a swing at a wasp's nest)#like i think ppl have started to just be really quiet when they like something 'problematic'#and im like... u can be like -#girl tswift NEEDS to just TAKE A BUS . LIKE?????????????????????#while also being like.#''she's a lot of fun''#if ur personal policy is that u don't support her for that reason that's great#but it's like. eating meat???#like yeah some people won't bc the environment. but the fact i eat meat doesn't mean i hate the earth#like i can say that i think the meat industry is HORRIFIC and also downright cruel to its employees#but like. still enjoy a chicken nugget....#there are people who choose otherwise. it's okay . we are people. i make like no money. u probably don't either#us fighting about whether or not it's Right To Eat The Chicken Tender just distracts from like.#actually turning your ire on the corporation#i hope it's clear what i'm saying here is like. when we fight each other for Purity Reasons#we are just doing the work of corporations . for free. like they WANT us to be doing this lol#it's the fucking DREAM of the upperclass that now ALL forms of responsibility fall on the individual
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KINKTOBER DAY 23 — JEALOUSY SEX
PAIRING: dom!jake x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, jealous jake, crying, mentions of fight (jake punches a guy), possessiveness, usage of nicknames, breeding.
WC: 1.1k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels! here we have jealous jake as requested by @ikeuverse! i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
✎ kinktober masterlist
“Fuck—Oh my god, Jake no!”
It happened comically fast how one second you were talking to a guy and the other second, he was being ripped off of you by Jake and thrown right on the ground.
A punch was delivered straight to his jaw and you could swear you heard the nastiest sound of a crack from the intensity of the blow, which had you running and pulling your boyfriend back with a racing heart, stopping him from punching the guy any further.
To be fair, Jake did not expect you to not be home when he came back a day earlier from his business trip. It was supposed to be a surprise, and so he headed to the party after asking your friend about your whereabouts. Seeing you talking to a guy with that big of a smile was enough for him to be pissed, maybe the plan of espionage wasn’t the best of his choice, but then the guy went ahead and touched your arm—which would be his last straw.
It was harmless, not that Jake knew it, but the guy was your old tutor, nothing more or less.
The scene was messy, the fight embarrassing and you had a feeling that your tutor won’t talk to you again anytime soon, or ever for that matter.
You drove him back in silence, but it was louder till the point you could hear your ears ringing. He pushed his tongue inside his cheek, not regretting a single thing but you could very well feel him fuming with anger still.
How dare anyone touch you when you belonged to him and him only?
Thankfully the drive was short, and so was his patience as he followed you inside your apartment, hot on your tail. You didn’t dare look his way, unsure of how to react, so you rushed to get a medical kit from your room, only to find him sitting on your bed knuckles bleeding and his stare drilling holes in your face.
Wordlessly, you settled down and grabbed his wounded hand, eyes not meeting his still as you disinfected his knuckles, yet he didn’t flinch with the sting.
He’s had enough of silence.
With the same hand, he grabbed your chin and made you look up, right in his eyes, not a trace of humour present in them, only seriousness.
“What?” You whispered, breathlessly as you did so, mentally scolding yourself for sounding that way.
“I go out for a few days and you let other guys touch you?” He clicked his tongue, voice condescending, expressing his disapproval well.
It didn’t help how a shiver went down your spine at his deep tone. He was borderline scolding slash accusing you, and here you couldn’t focus on anything but how hot he looked when he was mad.
Maybe you did need help.
“That’s not it—he’s just my tutor, Jake! You can’t punch people like that,” you managed to say, frustration on your face.
He only chuckled darkly, “do you have any idea how close he was to you?”
You gulped. Maybe he was invading your personal space now that you think of it, but you didn’t have any guts to admit it to Jake.
He saw your expression and rolled his eyes, “you belong to me, is that understood?” He asked, jaw clenched and his hold on your chin tightening.
You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together and you tried to nod despite his hold.
“I need words, baby. You can use them, right? Or will I have to teach you that too?” His tone got deeper, accent heavy as he spoke against your lips.
“Yes,” you mumble and Jake rewards you by wrapping his slender fingers around your throat in a swift go, pulling your lips to his as you kiss him back eagerly despite his anger seeping through the kiss.
You gasp when he bites your bottom lip, “mine,” he groans, his tongue gliding over your own in a way that’s not soft, but hungry.
Sadly, he pulled away too fast, smirking when you whined at the loss of his touch, but it was a given how he wouldn’t let you get what you wanted so easily.
“Strip,” he ordered with no room left for argument.
Jake had always been kind—the perfect boyfriend you could have wished for but never had you seen him being so serious while being intimate, the warmth flooding in between your legs was a clear indication that you loved it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, princess,” he whispered, watching you with his legs spread as he sat back, right when you got up with hesitance.
You knew it wasn’t the best time to tease him, but that only made you wonder just how far Jake would go in terms of punishment.
So you started off by putting on a show for him, unzipping your dress at a deliberately slow pace which made the nerve of his neck pop out, despite loving the show.
Right now, he wanted to mark you up.
It didn’t take him a second before he was standing in front of you, practically tearing your dress into two, picking you up and throwing you on the bed before your mind could comprehend anything else.
You’re glad you didn’t like that dress too much.
“Fuck—Jake!” You moan as he kisses you all over your neck, spitting on his fingers before shoving them inside your walls. It was easy given how wet you were, his thumb massaging your clit alongside as you threw your head back against the mattress.
“This cunt belongs to me, right?” He asked, eyes meeting yours as he lightly slapped your clit a few times to pull you out of daze.
“Y—yes, all yours,” you brokenly mumble, too busy chasing your pleasure with his fingers, walls clenching around him.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you could hear him shuffling out of his clothes before his red, leaking tip was lined against your wetness, your whines getting louder at the friction.
“I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” he whispered right against your ear, and your toes curled when you felt his tip prodding at your entrance.
Who knew your boyfriend would get that possessive, it was new but you didn’t hate it.
“Do you think you deserve this, hm?” He asked, slapping his cock on your cunt a few times as you cried out, nodding which only made him smirk, “good girl. Always know who you belong to,” he whispered.
You could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and he pushed his dick in, till he was balls deep inside you, knowing that you’d take everything he gave you that night.
“I’ll make sure you never forget,” he says before thrusting in hard.
It was a promise.
And you were ready to get reprimanded for your mistakes the whole night.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
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Him and I (2/2)
Summary: Lyla, is it normal to be jealous of your variant?
Prev
A/N: shout out to the literal artist of the recent 2099 comics for drawing atsv miggy and comic miggy side by side, it inspired this fic in the first place. TheWarBlazer on twt :)
Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, little PWP, Word Count: 6, 355
Comic Miggy = Mig / ATSV Miggy = Miguel c:
By morning, you had woken up slowly, processing where you were and what you had done the night before. Your hair was a mess and you pulled the covers around you when it slipped off, feeling a bit chilly. You looked around you to find yourself to put on, ultimately finding your panties ripped apart from yesterday so you just settled on loose shorts and Miguel’s blue t-shirt lying to the side. You noticed he wasn’t beside you but there was a smell in the air that told you he was at least still home and making breakfast.
You got up from the bed, making sure your legs worked still before peeking out the door to see if you could spot him. You turned your head from side to side until you finally caught him, leaning against the stove slightly in a compression shirt with sweatpants.
Miguel was there cooking up a basic breakfast of eggs and toast, taking a few sips of what you believe to be his protein shake. He glanced behind his shoulder to see you and he gently smiled. “Hey.”
You smiled weakly back at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice your cheeks darkening. “Hey. Morning.” You waved awkwardly.
Miguel chuckled and pointed to a bag on the glass table. “I bought some empanadas from the panaderia I go to. I didn’t know which one you’d like so I got both chicken and beef.” He faced back to the pan to scramble his eggs. You made your way over to the bag, opening it up to see another smaller set of bags labeled messily with Miguel’s handwriting.
“Which one do you recommend?” You asked, taking one from the beef label.
“The chicken.” He responded. You chuckled to yourself since the other Miguel preferred beef.
You walked over next to him and watched him work as you took a bite into the empanada. He turned and gave you a small smile, satisfied that you liked what he brought you.
“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, turning off the stove and taking two plates from the cupboard. You nod.
“Yeah. Just, uh, starting to wake up.” You blush softly, remembering the scenes from last night. Mig hides the prideful smile on his face.
“That’s good. I’m glad.” He places a decent amount on both of your plates and leads you to the dining table where you both begin eating and chatting.
He admires you as you speak, finding the beauty in this new you that he once knew.
After a while, you and Miguel felt the air shift, mugs and utensils starting to hover a bit in mid-air. You stiffened, knowing what this feeling was. Someone was opening a portal. Someone found you.
You quickly stand up and Miguel follows with a worried expression. “What’s wrong?” He asks, on edge and his talons extract subconsciously to the unknown he felt around him. You don’t answer and instead face the door of his bedroom where the warping was. Your spider senses went wild but calmed down the moment you realized that this was another spider person–they weren’t threats but you were just shocked.
You take a step back, closer in front of Miguel in case whatever spider person would ask questions. What you weren’t prepared for, was your boss opening the bedroom door to walk where you two were.
There was the leader of the Spider Society in all his glory, Miguel O’Hara–the original version you knew.
“Miguel…” You gasped breathlessly in shock, barely a whisper. Shit. “He-hey!” You laugh nervously. “You, uh, wow–haha.” You were speechless, knacking your brain to say something–anything to explain yourself. “You found me,” you chuckled nervously. “Y’know–I–I was lost for a bit but um–thankfully–I found another spider person and–wouldn’t you know it– it’s another you. So I was…extra…safe…” You trail off, noticing how Miguel had stared behind you to look at his other variant. You glance behind you to see the redhead tense up, standing up straighter to not be intimidated by this other version of himself.
“Yes. I was looking for you.” Miguel grunts, still as hardworking as ever. “The others were worried.”
Your gaze softened, thinking of your friends and feeling your heart swell at their concern. “Yeah. But I’m safe and look,” You showed your watch up to Miguel, his eyes ripping themselves off his variant to your watch. “He fixed it for me. You two really are alike.” You smile.
“I–I was gonna go back, but the watch was just fixed. No communications and the touch pad wasn’t working–” You tried to explain but your boss cuts you off.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Now we need you back.” He frowns down at you. Your smile drops and so does your heart.
“Well…well of course but–”
“But?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow up, his frown deepening. You purse your lips–even though you knew Miguel close enough, he was still your boss. You glance back at his counterpart apologetically and in turn he glances down at you.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper your apology to him and he doesn’t like it.
“You don’t have to go.” He whispers back to you, one hand resting on your arm and the other cupping your cheek. Neither of you notice your boss glare at the way he’s touching you. “You can go back whenever.” He insists.
“Actually she can’t,” The brunette's voice booms between you two. “She has a job to do as Spider-Woman–at the HQ.” He hisses out.
“But she wants to stay here. You can’t just make her.” The redhead retaliates. Miguel grows annoyed, kissing his teeth with a loud tsk.
“She isn’t yours.” MIguel grabbed your arm and tugged you towards his chest. The redhead grabbed onto your other arm and tried pulling you away from him, making you in the middle.
“She isn’t yours either.” He spat back. Both Miguel’s scowled at one another, your boss puffing up his chest to tower over both of you while his variant bared his fangs unwavering to his attempt to scare him off. “Did you even bother to ask what she wants?”
You look up at the redhead, even though he was facing off his counterpart–they could very well tear each other apart. “Miggy, just hold on–”
“Miggy?!” Your boss scrunches up his face, not even prepared to hear a nickname come out of your mouth for his variant. You blushed and opened your mouth in shock–the nickname had spilled out.
“Not–Not like that! It isn’t like that!”
“Not like that? What, so you just have sex with every variant? Give them pet names right after?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms in a snarl.
You start babbling to defend yourself but Mig perks up.
“What do you mean by that?” He asks. You and Miguel both turn to him–you still flustered while Miguel scowls at his counterpart.
“What are you talking about?”
“How did you know we had sex?” Mig crosses his arms and narrows his eyes up at Miguel on the other side. You blink for a moment and then it slowly processes in your brain.
He…He watched. But how?
The watch.
You snapped your neck back to your boss and you see him clench his jaw but his eyes don’t look at down at you–the tips of his ears grow increasingly red.
“You watched,” Mig laughs, shaking his head in disbelief and throwing his hands up. “You watched,” He repeats. “You sick-"
Stubbornly, Miguel tries not to falter. “She called.”
But his own self knows better than that. “And you stayed.”
“I was making sure she was safe.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Making sure she could safely cum? Yeah, I handled that.”
“Guys—” You interrupt with pure horror on your face. “Can we please not?” You turn to face Miguel’s general direction but you don’t meet his eyes. “We can just forget about everything in the last twenty four hours and what happened here so–”
“I want you back at HQ,” Miguel grumbles, turning his head away from you but still protecting his masculinity and pride with his arms tightened around him. “Away from here and back to work.”
His counterpart scoffs a humorless laugh. “Now I get it,” He walks up to Miguel and pulls you behind him “You’re jealous.”
Miguel squints his eyes down at him. “What?” He growls but the other’s smile only grows. He’s figured him out. They have the same mind after all.
“Jealous,” He repeats. “Did you have some feelings for her? Is that why you’re here all pissed? Just cause I got to her first?”
“Don’t piss me off.” Miguel’s face hardens, his frown growing deeper and showing his fangs off to threaten him.
“Or what?” Mig growls back, his talons extracting from his fingertips.
Feeling the growing tension, you try to speak up since one Miguel was dangerous enough–two of them would be catastrophic.
“Hey–can we not, maybe?” You interject, moving beside Mig and trying to catch your boss’ eye. Mig turns his head at you for a moment and then grinning to himself as he comes up with an idea.
The redhead hugs your back close to his chest, one hand on your hip and the other sliding up his shirt you’re wearing to reveal your stomach to the brunette. “Mig!” You gasp, blushing fiercely and holding onto his arms. You look away from your boss in embarrassment, opting to hide in his variant's neck, which he happily allows. You fail to notice your boss’s breath hitch at seeing your bare skin and his pupils being blown wide. The Miguel behind you smirks even wider.
“We could share.”
“I don’t share.” He growls.
“So you do want her. Just for yourself.” Miguel doesn’t respond, his eyes focused on the way you squirmed under his gaze alone.
“Mig–Mig, please.” You whine when you feel his porcelain hand disappear under your shirt to cup one tit in his hand and run his thumb over your nipple.
“Stop that.” Miguel’s jaw clenched when his eyes met his match. Bright red eyes narrowing at his scarlet ones.
“I’m not stupid. I’m you. I know what you want,” The redhead murmurs, grazing his teeth on your earlobe. “What she wants,” His mouth curls up when he sees you purse your lips to hide your moans but he can feel your heartbeat. “What we all want right now.”
Mig looks up at the other version of himself, realizing that this one might not be as confident as he is. A by the rules asshole who was all about work, work, work. He was the same but not to this extent. However, if this Spider-Man was anything like him, all he had to do was wave the candy in front of his face and he’d crack. No matter the universe, Miguel O’Hara always grabbed what he wanted if the right buttons were pressed.
Your soft mewl snaps them both out of their mental warfare, two pairs of eyes looking down at you between them to see you look bashful and hot with embarrassment. For a moment, both men stop, equally concerned with putting you in the middle. Your boss feels the most guilt but Mig on the other hand feels less so. With his hand right by your heart, he can feel the heat emanating from your body and pounding heartbeat against your ribs. He has felt the same need and craving when you were squealing last night.
“Isn’t that something you want?” Mig hums, his hand on your hip playing with the string of your shorts. Miguel takes a firm step forward to stop him but was stopped when you nodded your head. Your eyes still shut while you felt your cheeks burning. Mig’s touch was intoxicating especially with the feeling of him on you from last night still lingering on your body.
“I need words, sweetheart.” He hums and you purse your lips for a moment.
“Yes…” You choke out.
“Yes, what?” Mig asks you but looks at Miguel.
“Yes, I want it…” You groan, feeling humiliated but it was exhilarating at the same time. The redhead slides his hand under your shorts to feel the new wet patch growing between your legs. Mig smirks as he remembers slicing off your panties last night. He nudges your legs, a silent command to spread them apart and you give him that access with shaky steps. He lets you relax on his chest while his fingers spread your folds apart while you whimper. Miguel stares at the hand in your pants with a blush across his face, fighting his two emotions of wanting to stop this and wanting to make you whimper like that.
Your boss’ variant bunches up your shirt over your breasts and you writhe in his hold, trying to gain some sense of decency while the two men basically get off on just the sight of you.
“You want more, don’t you?” Mig behind you purrs, his fingers in your shorts gently rub circles against your clit while his other hand tweaks and pinches your nipple. “Want to feel nice and full?” He kisses along your neck and you try to grind against his fingers, wanting them to slip inside but he was just teasing you. You moan softly, focusing on the feeling of electricity jolting down to your core.
“Uh-huh, mhm–please,” You whined. Miguel’s breathing increases and his suit strains to accommodate for the bulge growing between himself. His hands clench and unclench beside him as he itches to grab your body to feel the soft skin you could provide him. His eyes lingered on your tits and he licked his lips subconsciously.
“Hear that? She wants more. Isn’t that convenient?” The redhead chuckles, slipping his hand out from your pants and showing up with his fingers covered from the juices your cunt provided him. “You just gonna leave her like this? Or are you gonna help out your precious little employee?” He taunts Miguel and Miguel swallows the lump in his throat.
Miguel takes another step forward just enough to be in front of you and to feel the heat coming off you and his variant. He hesitantly rests his hand on your hip and you flinch, not expecting to feel a third hand on your body. Miguel’s variant raises his slick soaked fingers to your mouth and smears a bit of it on your bottom lip. You open up slightly but Mig had already slid them inside your mouth making your tongue taste yourself. You whine as best you could with his fingers in your mouth and look up at Miguel with shame. You felt your cheeks burning hot but your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Miguel stared down at you, huffing softly as he watched you suck your slick off his own variants fingers.
“Fuck…” He groaned and his grip on your hip tightened. “Can I? Please.” He bent over slightly, his breath hitting your face. The redhead behind you watched and then flicked your nipple when you didn’t respond fast enough. You yelped around his digits and felt them slip out, a string of saliva coming out.
You nodded again, reaching one hand off Mig’s arm to hold onto Miguel’s shoulder.
Miguel slides your shorts down, pooling them underneath you and moans when he finds you without underwear, his cock twitching in anticipation. His hand on your hip slides down to lift your leg up and he moves closer to rub his crotch against your core. The blunt nudge sent a jolt of pleasure through your body and you nearly fell back if Mig wasn’t holding you from behind. Miguel’s other hand rises up to cup your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh between his fingers.
“Ah–Fuck…!” You gasp and roll your head back against his variant's shoulder, your eyes barely glancing down at the two toned hands cupping and grabbing your body. You feel Mig thrust softly behind you, poking your ass while Miguel continues to grind up against your pussy. Your mind went foggy as you felt both men surround you, the fantasy of being taken by both of them sent your brain short circuiting.
The shirt you had been wearing fumbles back down, covering yourself once more. Miguel grunts in annoyance, letting go of your breast to rip the fabric into shreds with his talons that made Mig tsk. Miguel went back to playing with your nipple until he leaned down to latch onto it, flicking the nub gently with his tongue. You twitched and gasped, arching your back off Mig and into Miguel’s mouth. “Miguel!” You mewl and he groans in response, biting it with his teeth and pulling before letting go and watching how erect it had gotten, wet with his spit.
You hear Mig grunt behind you, bucking his hips against your ass to feel some friction for his cock. His arm wrapped around your middle to pull you against him, his lips dragged along your neck in open mouthed kisses and his hand returned to twist your nipple between his index finger and thumb. Miguel pulled away from you a bit so glance down at the soaking mess you made on his suit, his cock throbbing for more. So, he rips his variant’s hand off your waist.
Miguel then hauled you over his shoulder, returning back to the bedroom and tossing your body on the mattress, giving you a strange sense of deja vu. Mig rolled his eyes and followed behind your two and saw you on his bed once more. You squeak and cover your eyes when Miguel phased out of his suit and Mig tossed his shirt up and over his head. Miguel crawls in bed with you, his frame basically covering everything in front of you. You peek through your fingers and close your legs which makes both men frown. Mig crawls beside you, pulling one leg apart while Miguel takes the other. Mig takes your hands away from your face and settles for kissing your cheeks and trailing down to your jaw and collarbone.
“Don’t be shy,” He murmurs, his hands cupping your tits in his large palms. “You’ve already had one of us. What’s another one, hm?” You moan out when he plays with one nipple in his hand and sucking the other. Miguel kisses down your stomach, finding himself fond of your thighs, squishing them in his hands and grazing them softly with his talons. Goosebumps rise to your skin as his tongue teases just outside your pussy.
Miguel’s plump lips take your clit and he gently sucks on it, his tongue licking up and down and swirling around it. You quickly grip both Miguel’s hair in one hand and pull them closer to you body. Your mind didn’t know who to focus on first, it was like they touched every nerve possible and turned you numb, only to feel pleasure and nothing else.
Miguel pulls away entirely, spreading your folds apart to see the increasing amount of slick you were producing and he groaned. He slips a finger inside you pushing through from how tight you surrounded yourself on his digit. “Coño…” Miguel mutters. You spread your legs further apart, Miguel kissing the inside of your thigh appreciatively. Your head rolls back as the two men assault every possible soft spot on your body.
Mig twists your nipple between his fingers at the same time his mouth suckled around your other nipple. You felt his teeth nibble the bud, his fangs grazing over you delicately. Miguel continues to ease his finger deeper inside you, preparing you for another finger. You moan loudly, writhing beneath them desperately and it’s no use–not when two grown men are keeping you still with their weight and hands. You try bucking your hips further down Miguel’s fingers, whimpering his name and gasping. Miguel curls his fingers inside you, hitting the soft spot you’ve been craving and so you squeal in pleasure. Mig quickly lets go of your abused nipple to kiss you and hinder your moaning.
Miguel growls and glares at the redhead. “I want to hear her.”
“Mmm, too bad.” Mig chuckles against your lips and slips his tongue in your mouth. You could barely focus, face contorted in pleasure as Miguel takes it as a challenge. He dives back into your cunt, pumping his fingers while his tongue flicks up and down to lap up your juices. Your moans are muffled by Mig’s mouth but your hips buck wildly to meet your boss’ wet muscle licking you up. He pins your hips down so he can focus on eating you out properly and you whimper, your body completely hindered and at their command. His nose nudges against your clit and you claw into their hair. One hand in straight ginger locks while the other hand yanks on wavy brown strands.
Mig pulls away from your lips to take a deep breath, both your tongues and lips are wet from swapping spit. You’re breathless from the kiss so you stick to small whines and mewling as you hump yourself on Miguel’s fingers and mouth. He feels you convulsing around his fingers and he eases a third finger, scissoring you to stretch you out just a little more. “Miguel! Miguel! So close, I'm so close–please!” You beg, trying to fight against his hands holding you down.
But Miguel pulls away all of a sudden. The pressure inside your abdomen disappears and you groan in frustration. “No!”
“Tranquilo. You’ll get what you want.” Miguel mutters under his breath. He looks over at his variant, a silent conversation going on that only a Miguel would ever understand. Mig settles by your head, his cock strained against his sweatpants. You look over lazily at it and try to reach for his waistband but he stops you with a gentle smile.
“Not yet, princess.” He kisses your knuckles before dropping it back to your side. You’re confused for just a moment but you’re pulled out of it when you feel Miguel lift your legs over his shoulders. He lines his cock up with your entrance, his angry red tip dribbling an insane amount of precum. He glides himself in between your folds to lube himself up and your pussy throbs feeling how hard he is. Miguel huffs, his cheeks flushed as the lust clouds his judgment and mind.
Being as gentle as he possibly could, Miguel pushes his tip inside you. You gasp and arch your back, Miguel being just a bit bigger than you’ve taken before. Mig jumps into action, playing with your nipples while he runs kisses along your neck. “Hold onto me, mama. I’ve got you.” He murmurs. Your hand grips into his hair again while the other grips the sheets.
“Mig, Mig…” You whine while Miguel pushes further inside. Miguel rubs your thighs to ease you into some comfort and trying to stop himself from splitting you apart. Both men whisper sweet nothings to you, praising you for how well you’re doing and how good it’ll feel. Miguel rubs your clit in small circles while he reaches the hilt.
“S’good…” Miguel murmurs. “You’re doing so good.” He slowly pulls out, watching your pussy soak his cock. He strokes himself inside you softly as to not hurt you but, damn, was it hard. Mig tries to relieve your stress by bringing your nipple in his mouth again, his hands holding you and rolling your other nipple between his fingers.
You moan and arch your back, your hips lifting up to meet one of Miguel’s soft thrusting. That feeling you had last night of needing something more was slowly being quenched. Having multiple hands, multiple options of pleasure was just what you needed and it seemed like they thought the same. Miguel held your legs up while he picked up his pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. You felt him stretch you out with every thrust, your pussy coating his cock with wet slapping and sticky echoes. Mig murmurs into your ear.
“Can you feel it? You take cock so well, look at you. You look so pretty getting fucked, hm? Oh, you poor thing.” Mig taunts you, his hands squeezing your breasts in his palms, your nipples and mounds having bite marks all over them. You wail and thrust your hips to meet Miguel's pounding, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you felt the same pressure of your orgasm coming up.
Miguel groans, panting and huffing to keep himself steady while he fucks you. His hand presses down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling his tip slide in and out and poke through your stomach.
For some reason, that was the final push you needed to cum–your pussy clenching and unclenching as you cream and cry around Miguel’s thick girth. Your legs shook in his hands while he rammed into you to prolong your orgasm. He pulled out before he could cum with his teeth clenched tightly while Mig let go of your tits and stood up from the bed. Miguel takes a few deep breaths as he watches you barely recover from your high. His cock was still painfully hard and now glistening with your cum. Your body was bruised– hickeys around your chest from Mig and tiny scratches on your legs and thighs from Miguel’s talons.
Miguel tugs you up and lies you on your stomach so you’re facing the foot of the bed. You feel him tap your thigh. “Knees. C’mon.” He mumbles and you weakly try to lift yourself up but Miguel grows impatient, settling for just picking up your bottom half himself. His calloused hands grip into your plush hips, carrying most of your weight. You see Mig approach where you are and you look up. He smirks down at you and narrows his eyes downward and you follow. You gulp and grab the sheets into your fists when you’re met with the sight of him stroking his cock softly. Your mouth drops open in surprise and you feel your mouth water. His tip was already red and leaking and you’re entranced with the way he rubs his thumb across the head to smear his precum as lube.
His other hand lifts your gaze back up at him with his thumb forcing your lips apart to open them. You blink up at him and his heart skips a beat at how pretty you’ll look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. The redhead looks at his counterpart from behind you, giving him a small nod and he returns one back.
“Be a good girl and open up.” Mig hums and taps his cock to your lips–he’s been waiting for this. You open up and stick your tongue out for him to slide onto. His tip feels heavy as he nudges himself deeper in your warm mouth, his breathing already increasing rapidly. Your lips wrap around his thick cock, nearly hitting his base but enough for the red hair of his pubes to graze your nose. He groans above you, struggling to force you deeper down himself and instead reaches for your hair to grab onto.
You feel Miguel behind you slide his cock back inside you, pushing himself to the hilt where his balls smack your sensitive folds and bumping your forward, making you choke on Mig’s dick. The redhead hisses and grunts, yanking you back. “Be shocking careful.” He growls at Miguel but he ignores him. Miguel’s mind is somewhere else entirely, his eyes haven’t left your ass. He grips each cheek in his hand and bites his bottom lip, his fang piercing the skin for a second.
“Que bonita eres,” Miguel praises, tugging you back against his pelvis and making his cockhead arch up into your sweet spot. You shook and rolled your eyes back, nearly falling apart if it weren’t Mig holding you up. You clamp down on his cock instinctively which makes your boss choke on his gasp.
“Shit–she’s still tight.” Miguel moans, rocking his hips against your ass. “Relájate, mi amor–así, así.”
Your body moves after every push of Miguel’s thrusts–pushing you back and forth on the cock in your cunt and the cock in your mouth simultaneously. Mig moans in turn, the vibration from your own whimpering runs down his length for stimulation. His hand keeps a tight grip in your hair to make sure your head stays up and sucking. You feel your neck strain to look up while both men use your body for their own pleasure.
Sounds of slurping, squelching, and moaning surround the room. You could hear the quiet grunt of Mig while Miguel was a little louder, groaning and muttering things under his breath. You thought for a split second that Miguel was little more rough on you than his counterpart–or maybe it could’ve just been because it’s his first time fucking you. You didn’t care honestly.
You tried to focus on the Miguel in front of you, his dick filling your mouth and his tip occasionally poking the back of your throat and making you tear up. Your tongue swirls around him, gagging a bit and leaving copious amounts of spit on him. You glide your tongue under a throbbing vein of his and he hisses above you, his hand pulling your head forward to take him deeper and slapping his balls on your chin. “Fuck, I should’ve made you do this earlier–” He moans. “Should’ve known those pretty lips would do some good sucking me off.” He thrusts a bit faster and you can practically feel him swell up at the thought.
You moan around him, spit dribbling out your mouth and down your chin. You could taste the new flavor of his salty precum on your taste buds and the natural musk of his cock. Your jaw began to feel sore from being stretched open to accommodate his girth. Mig’s hand tried to shakily push back the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face. “That’s it, gorgeous. You’re doing so good for me. You like that? Feeling full, hm?” He teased, knowing you couldn’t even answer if you tried.
More saliva accumulated inside your mouth and you moaned around him pathetically as your response. You pussy clenched from his teasing which made the brunette behind you groan and pump himself faster inside you. He held your hips tightly going fast and short strokes which increased the sound of skin slapping on skin. You focused your eyes up at the redhead until your eyes widened feeling a hard smack to your ass.
You whined around Mig’s cock, feeling the tears prick in your eyes from pain and pleasure while Miguel behind you left a few more slaps to your ass before squeezing it in his large hand. Mig looked over at his counterpart fucking you from behind, kneading the plump flesh while he bucked wildly like an primal animal. Miguel’s eyes were clouded with raw lust, focusing on the way your ass jiggled and rippled with every pound and slap, how you mewled around his variant’s cock and how your previous orgasm made it so much easier to slip in and out of you.
God, you were perfect, Miguel thought to himself. So desperate and so willing to have not just one of him but two. “So greedy,” He murmured between heavy breaths. “Just had to have two cocks, huh? Just one isn’t enough—couldn’t settle so you wanted me to fuck you, is that it? Needed your boss to cum inside this weeping cunt?” Miguel groaned and lolled his head slightly back while his hips began to speed up. His cock swelled inside you, his balls tightening for release but he held back–just a little longer, it feels too good.
Your eyes rolled back, unable to keep sucking the redhead dick anymore with how their teasing and talking sent you in overdrive. Drool leaked out of you and you felt your pussy gush more juices on him and down your thighs. Mig pats your cheek to wake you up out of your cock-drunk haze.
“Head up, princess. Keep sucking, I’m so close.” He moans, grabbing the back of your head and shoving you up and down on his length.
You were made for this, both Miguel’s decided. You knew just how to please them, your pussy was already carved in the shape of their cocks, your tongue knowing exactly how to suck. Now that they had you, they were never letting go. Maybe there are some things Miguel O’Hara can share.
You weakly went back to sucking Mig off, but he didn’t mind. Just the feeling of your wet warm and drooling mouth was enough to have his cock twitching down your throat.
“Haah, fuck–” The man above moans, gripping your hair tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit–I’m gonna cum.” He whines and tries to pull himself off you but you whimpered and reached out your hand to grab his thigh from moving away. He looks down to see your eyes pleading and begging him.
“You wanna swallow?” He asks between huffs, a smirk slowly curling up. “Alright. I’ll give you what you want, princess.” You closed your eyes, a silent thank you as you tried to properly help him reach his climax and cum in your mouth. Mig closes his eyes and thrusts in abandon, his tip rubbing against the back of your throat and swelling up before releasing in your mouth. You gag a bit, unexpecting so much to come out but you tried swallowing as much of him as you could.
You felt him softening on your tongue while you drank his thick cum, some of it being too much and dribbling down your lips and his length, Your tongue slipped around him to make sure he got his fill before he slid out your lips. A string of his cum and your saliva connecting from his tip to your wet lips. Mig stroked his cock a few more times, the beads of leftover cum spurting from his tip which you happily lapped up with the tip of your tongue.
“Oh, such a good girl.” Mig praises, his thumb cupping your chin to open your mouth to make sure you swallowed everything. You opened up softly, moaning and whimpering freely now that you aren’t hindered by dick down your throat. Mig, now exhausted from cumming, pulled away from you to sit on one of his plush chairs in his bedroom. His chest heaved up and down as he calmed down from his high. Meanwhile, your head fell to rest on the edge of the mattress while Miguel continued to hump you, his cock engorging every second with his own release. Especially with the way you moaned and squealed.
“Tan mojada, tan apretada–ay Dios–por favor, por favor–"Miguel moaned, slurring under his breath while he looked down to watch his dick disappear in your pussy and reappear with an unbelievable amount of wetness. His thrust went out of rhythm, now a desperate attempt to just finish inside you.
“I’m gonna cum inside, okay?” He groans. “Eso se suena bien, mami?” He leans over you to pound his cock in a different spot, his hand coming down to push your head in the mattress. Your cheek is smushed to the side and you can barely see Miguel fucking you from behind but you can feel his hand grab your entire head.
“Uh-huh!” You babble, mouth just being filled and drenched with cum. Miguel sees your eyes half-lidded and rolled back, jaw slack as you spill out moans and more drool with his variants cum drying on your chin and lips.
Miguel lets out a deep growl from his throat as he fastens his pace, his talons pricking your skin around your hip to keep you steady while he uses you. You scream his name, your vision going white and hot with pleasure as you finally reach your orgasm again. You came around him, the sound of wet plaps becoming more prominent as Miguel thrusts his last few times.
Seeing your body go limp and sensitive from just orgasming made his moan in response, his cock twitching wildly before stiffening and shooting his thick load inside you. He painted your insides white, the warmth of it slipping out between him and you from the sheer amount of cum he produced. Miguel continued to slowly pump himself dry, making sure your pussy squeezed every drop he could offer, shuddering when he pulled out of your wet walls to see himself drenched in both your fluids.
Miguel let you go, watching your spent body flop down without the help of him picking you up. It was now more quiet than usual, just the sounds of heavy breathing as you collected yourselves, sweat dripping down everyone’s skin.
Mig smirks lazily from his comfortable plush chair, his cock in his hand and semi-hard from watching you two finish. He glances at Miguel’s glistening cock, also semi-hard just by watching how you glow after cumming.
“I could go another round.” Mig huffs and Miguel turns to him with a tired look but with a speck of lust ignited in them.
You whimpered and shook from the aftershocks of your orgasm still flowing through you. “No…no more. I’m…It’s so sensitive…” You drooled on the sheets, trying to catch your breath and feel the nerves come back to your body.
Miguel looks down at you and nudges your legs apart to see the damage done to your pussy. Swollen and glistening with all types of fluids and cum. He uses his fingers to spread your folds and you twitch and whine weakly, Miguel’s cum oozing out of you. He jams the amount that had leaked out of your back inside with two of his fingers, making you moan. His other hand grabs your ass cheek apart and he grins.
Miguel looks up at his counterpart only to see him with the same toothy smirk. Great minds think alike.
“Well, there is… one hole we haven’t used yet.”
A/N: are u happy to be in paris? :3
To the lovelies that wanted to be tagged <3 🏷
@oscarissac2099 @huniedeux @mcmiracles @gltzpzy @ahano @the-pan-liquid @julian0800 @2099gf @jadeloverxd
feedback appreciated ! plz be nice _(:3」∠)_
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine
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Our Place*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.
Word Count: 1.7k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word
Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected.
The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table.
It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.
You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with.
He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.
“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”
You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”
“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”
You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”
“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”
“Well…I wasn’t—”
“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”
You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”
He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.
But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out.
“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”
Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.
You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.
But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises.
“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”
You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.
His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.
So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.
He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”
You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”
“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"
Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”
You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.
The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.
Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.
In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear.
But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.
Your heart stops.
In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.
It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”
He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”
But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.
Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.
He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”
You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight.
“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"
“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”
He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.
You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans.
You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.
And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?
“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”
Your lashes flutter. “What?”
“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”
It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”
“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”
You whimper. “Harry, wait—”
“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”
“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”
But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming.
But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?”
He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”
“You’ve never seen her before.”
You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”
“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”
You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”
“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”
Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.
Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”
Your expression softens.
“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”
The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy.
“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”
You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles.
“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”
You nearly sob.
“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”
You laugh through the tears.
“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”
You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.
“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.
He smiles.
“Harry?”
“Mm?”
“…can we please finish now?”
He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”
“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."
The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.
And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
“As you wish.”
WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!
Previous Part:
~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)
~ Full 404 Masterlist
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✩ ˛˚ . INTERRUPTED ; — you find your alone time with multiple tokyo revengers characters being interrupted.
FEATURING: sano shinichiro, hanma shuji, haitani rindou, sano manjiro + sanzu haruchiyo.
warnings: f!reader, exhibitonism, bonten!timeline, shin owns his bike shop, phone calls / being walked in on, cock-warming, sort of possessive behaviour in sanzu’s, ch-oking. note: hewo :3 i am v happy w how these turned out i think so i hope u guys enjoy hehehe <3
✩ ˛˚ . SANO SHINICHIRO
shinichiro could never fucking say no to you, you just had to give him one of your pretty little looks from underneath your lashes and he was like fucking putty in your hands.
it’s like you knew exactly how to get to him, made just to tease and test his own self control and fuck—turns out he hasn’t got any at all, because now your usual little afternoon visit to see him at work has ended up with his hips pressing flush and tight against your own as he sinks his cock into the warm hug of your pussy.
it wasn’t normally something that bothered shinichiro, but when it’s only 2pm on a friday afternoon and he’s just heard the bell on the front door of his bike shop ring to alert him of another customer. he’s pretty sure they might find a problem with the fact he can’t deal with them because he’s balls deep in you in the back shop.
you feel the deep press of your boyfriends cock against the sweet spots inside of you when his next thrust stutters, followed by another languid withdrawal of his hips before he’s rolling them back into you at an even slower pace. but he swears he feels you squeeze even tighter when the sudden ring of the bell at the front desk rips you both from your blissful, hormone-drunken state.
“just a sec..” shinichiro calls as his fingers squeeze almost painfully at your hips and he’s pulling back to give you a lidded look from under the messy mop of black hair framing his flushed features. you shudder when you feel the cool metal of his chain leave your too hot skin but he still doesn’t pull himself away when your hands tighten in the fabric of his shirt. “f-fuck, angel, gotta let me go.. quit squeezin’ so tight.
“but shin, ‘m so close.” you babble through your pouty lips and even the fucking sound only seems to lure him closer as he offers you another stuttered thrust and he grits his teeth. another ring of the bell accompanied by another sinful squeeze of your walls around him and shit— he wished he’d just closed up for the day. god he is fucking whipped.
“mmm—fine, angel. shit— jus’ gotta make it quick, alright? make it up to ya later.”
✩ ˛˚ . HANMA SHUJI
your trip to hanma’s office had started somewhat innocent, it was always down to him when you ended up spread out on his desk atleast — not that you can be blamed when he’s so infuriatingly handsome, amber lidded gaze never once leaving yours as soon as you enter.
it’s the same look that he’s giving you now as you sit spread out for him across the paper work that he couldn’t give two shits about right now. he’s still dressed apart from his unbuttoned slacks — just enough to free the heavy strain of his cock but still a stark contrast to the way he’s stripped you of everything — offered you up to himself like a luxury meal he’s about to devour, and you almost shudder with how exposed you feel before you melt at his touch again.
“you miss my cock that much, babydoll?” hanma goads, smirks as one of his large palms, sin squeezes at the flesh of your thigh so he can push you wider. you can barely offer him words with the way your desire weighs heavy on your lungs, a weak little nod that only makes his grin twitch even wider as he wraps your thighs around his hips.
“such a helpless little thing, can’t cum without me doing all the work.” it was almost uncharacteristic for him to give into you so easily, he liked you begging — crying for him to finally fuck you but any suspicions soon melt when the fat head of his cock finds the entrance to your flexing pussy.
you gasp and hanma growls as he sinks carefully up inside you, punishment taking its usual place around your throat as he squeezes lightly at the sides — he always said it was your prettiest fuckin’ necklace afterall. his other hand on your hip pulls your hips closer to his as your back arches and his cock feels like it sinks into you forever. he was long and thick, curved upwards and warm and it glides so sweetly past the spots inside of you that make your whole body twitch against the wood, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.
but just as you find yourself floating into a blissful state, almost consumed completely by him — you jolt when there’s a sudden, sharp knock on his office door and his fingers around your throat squeeze a little tighter before he chuckles.
your wide-eyed as you look at hanma but he doesn’t stop, he looks amused and there’s something dark, wild in the same familiar amber that looks over you when the next knock is accompanied by him forcing your walls to spread open wider for him. “s-shuji.” you try, a small plea for him to tell him he’s busy — to do something, anything.
but then you only feel him press into you deeper, looking at you from over the frames of his glasses before he’s urging your head to tilt back — palm pressing tight against the middle of your throat as he drags you along his cock with the other.
“came here to cum didn’t you? better tell ‘em.. or. else.”
✩ ˛˚ . HAITANI RINDOU
rindou is fucking late, he knows as he gives the watch underneath the expensive fabric of his suit a lazy, lidded look from underneath his lashes. it’s not that he was stuck in traffic or anything, hes at the venue for the executive meeting atleast — hes just far too fucking obsessed with the way you’re bouncing on his cock as he sits in the front seat of his fucking car to actually leave.
ran’s definitely going to kick his ass, he thinks before it’s replaced by the next particularly sharp connection of your hips — warm hug of your pussy reducing him to low grunts and growls as every thought in his head is consumed by only you instead.
“fuck sake, i gotta go princess. but shit, got the sweetest lil fuckin’ pussy.” rindou hisses through gritted teeth as he lets his head fall back against the headrest — his violet gaze heavy underneath his mused bangs as it focuses on the way your pretty tits jiggle everytime you sink back down onto his heavy cock. he’s gotta go, but why can’t he bring himself to fucking move.
“so close rin!” you whimper through pouty lips, your mind cloudy with how well hes fucking you and it does wonders at drowning out the way his phone is vibrating in the passenger seat — his hands preoccupied with dragging you along the length of him instead.
“yeah? lemme see how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum ‘round my cock, gorgeous.” the ragged tone of rindou’s words feels like it drips through you as the muscles in his well trained body shake beneath you. his pace is unrelenting as he begins to meet each of your thrusts with heavier ones of his own, fingers squeezing tight into your hips so he can push his cock even deeper into you with every wet connection.
“you been thinkin’ ‘bout my cock, princess? already made me fuckin’ late, gotta make it up to me.” rindou groans and your walls reward the thick spread of his cock with another needy twitch. your pussy squelches, wet and messy as the sounds echo around the walls of the car and fuck— he wants to ruin you. but his next harsh thrust stutters when there’s a sudden knock against the drivers seat window that makes his head twist quickly, because despite the dark tint and the condensation from you both — he knows who it fucking is.
“oh little brother? hm, don’t make me drag you in here.”
✩ ˛˚ . SANO MANJIRO
you think it’s warm, comfortable when you’re curled up in mikey’s lap — a place that had become one of your favourite despite how many people feared him. but he was different with you, softer as his slender fingers trace up the length of your spine — making you shudder as his cock rests inside the intoxicating hug of your walls.
it was a nice sort of routine, like a little ritual than always seemed to keep him grounded and it was some of his favourite moments with you — sacred moments with you. you pull back to give him a pretty, drowsy sort of look and you almost melt completely when it earns you a relaxed sort of expression in return followed by a small smile. “manjiro.” you begin and he swears the use of his full name from between your lips makes him shudder as something warm licks at the base of his spine.
“hm?” it’s low the hum that mikey offers you but you only sigh contently before you’re urging yourself closer, letting yourself bask in his hold as his arm around you proceeds to tighten as his lips rest against your temple. “it feels good, you’re warm.” he drawls and the whispered affirmation makes your insides ache before the next squeeze of your walls is pulling a shuddered breath from the man beneath you.
but just as you get comfortable in the blissful atmosphere in the room, it’s interrupted suddenly by the harsh wrap of knuckles against his office door before a particularly scared looking gang member scurries in after. he opens his mouth to speak but the cold look your boyfriend gives him seems to make the words die in his throat before he cuts him off completely.
“i’m busy.” mikey’s tone is blunt, ragged and a stark contrast to the softer one that he seems to reserve only for you as his fingers continue their ministrations along your skin. but you find yourself tensing when his words aren’t followed by the sudden unwanted company leaving, something that your boyfriend picks up on when instead they proceed to try again as they stutter out something unintelligible.
“didn’t you hear me?” there’s authority in the sharpness of his tone this time and it leaves no room for argument — only an apology as the gang member bows before leaving, probably mentally preparing himself for the visit he’ll be receiving from sanzu later no doubt. but you find yourself relaxing into manjiro’s embrace again as soon as you’re both alone again, hearing him sigh before it’s followed by a sudden, deep kiss of his cock as he shifts beneath you.
“so annoying. i’m comfy.”
✩ ˛˚ . SANZU HARUCHIYO
“haru..” you gasp from where sanzu has you hips pressed tight against his desk — swiping his fingers softly through your folds as he drags the pad beneath the hood of your clit, rolling the sensitive bud until he can see the way your thighs twitch. it was insane, the way he’s toying with you — playing with your pretty cunt like you’ve got him fucking hypnotised.
“i know, angel. just real pretty.” he hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside. he rewards you with a sweet little kiss against the puffy bud when he’s not met with much resistance, grinning at the even sweeter little whine it pulls from your pouty lips.
“such pretty sounds, perfect fucking pussy.” sanzu’s fingers are long, long and thick enough for you to hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy with the soft affirmation from his scarred lips. it was intoxicating to see a man so dangerous turn to fucking putty when he was between your legs and gazing up at you from under long lashes.
his warm breath rolls over your slick folds as he pants, his crystalline eyes transfixed and shining on where his digits sink into you, until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up — complimenting every twist of his wrist with kitten licks like you’re the sweetest thing hes ever fucking tasted. it was rare for you both to get some alone time, he was a busy man afterall being bonten’s number two and you forget just how fucking good he makes you feel — making your toes curl from where they rest over his shoulders so easily.
but just as you let yourself melt back onto the heavy wood behind you, fingers smoothing through the bubblegum roots of sanzu’s hair before you pull — you’re jolted from your blissful state by the sharp ring of his phone in his pants. you hear him click his tongue before he’s spitting out a curse, but he continues to sink his fingers into you as he struggles with the device, swiping at the screen as he swirls tantalising circles into your clit with his thumb.
“what the fuck is it?” he spits and fuck— you swear the sudden boom of his voice makes you even wetter as your walls squeeze tight around his fingers, making his scarred lips twitch into a wild grin as he hums. you can tell he’s barely listening to the caller, not important enough for his attention so you know it’s not mikey, but his attention remains on you despite the way he addresses them. “fuckin’ do something about it then, im busy.”
you’re so fucking wound up, moans muffled behind your lips despite the way sanzu’s so desperately trying to drag them out of you before he’s resting the phone face up on the desk beside you. you’d assume he was done, but you can still hear the faint voice on the other end and the hooded look he gives you is dark before he’s suddenly burying his face into you, drinking up everything you offer to him despite the way his sharp gaze cuts up into you as he grumbles out a warning.
“keep that pretty mouth quiet, angel. those sounds are for my ears only, wouldnt want to have to kill that sorry bastard for hearing what’s mine.”
© 2023 GAROUJO. do not copy any of my layouts / writing + translate / repost onto any other sites.
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after midnight pt 2 | carmen berzatto x reader
summary: you leave a surprise for carmen at work that lets him know he's been caught watching your content & the aftermath that follows. she/her pronouns used!
contents: perv!carmy, mentions of anxiety, mentions of filming sex tapes, dirty talk, fingering, hand job, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out (sorry he's possessive idk what to say). he also has this lil god complex over your other subscribers
word count: 4,587k
author notes: i had to cut a lil out bc otherwise this was getting lllooonngg. thank you for all the love on part one & i hope you enjoy this one too!! <33
part one
Carmen wonders what you think of this mysterious new account that keeps donating to you. Sending you small gifts. It's nothing too large - He's not trying to put himself into debt by any means. But it is his way of cosmically balancing the scale of viewing your content without you knowing.
Sometimes he lets his mind wonder and entertains the idea of filming with you. Letting all these losers who sit alone at night watching you get a glimpse of how good he could treat you. Your knees over his shoulders as he folds you in half, harsh and rough strokes pounding in and out of you. Sometimes you get smart with him - It's the nature of the kitchen. He thinks about you in that position whenever you pop off with some snarky remark. Pinned under him, two fingers in your mouth. "Put that pretty mouth to use for me. There you go, Baby." His fingers sliding in further, causing you to gag around them but you reach up to hold his wrist in place to let you know you're good.
He’d fuck you until you can’t think straight, a moaning mess against his fingers as you’re reduced to coming around his cock with no warning. Orgasm shaking through your body and Carmen would just keep fucking into your sensitive body until he can’t take it anymore.
This becomes his new morning routine. Waking up 20 minutes earlier than he really needs to because he just knows he’ll be hard from dreams of you. It’s a bit of an obsession at this point in all honesty but he can’t help himself. He pictures you laid out against his bed sheets, sleepy and grabbing at any inch of him that you can. You’d just be able to relax and get fucked well to start the morning, he’d do all the work for the two of you.
Any mental space not occupied by the restaurant is fully dedicated to you.
———★–————————–
Carmen’s barely awake when he walks into the restaurant. His eyes still feel so heavy and there's a level of exhaustion that he just can't seem to shake in his bones. He's grunting acknowledgment at the team, doing a double take as he catches you grinning wickedly at the board in front of you. There’s a familiar pang of jealousy - What’s got you so entertained this year? He scoffs at his imaginary man he’s made up that’s vying for your attention as he heads into the office to work on this week’s orders.
Except he’s stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of lingerie he just sent you last week folded neatly in the center of the desk. His heart drops to the bottom pit of his stomach as he steps closer and sees a packing order next to the set - His name and address under the billing information circled in a bright neon pink Sharpie. Carmen knows for a fact that he double, triple checked that this was supposed to be a gift and for his information to be excluded so what the fuck happened?
He’s throwing his jacket over the desk just in case someone walks in before he can take care of this situation but he’s got to get a handle on you first. He’s embarrassed at getting caught. Imagining you must think the worst of him. Trying to justify it by at least he was sending you stuff, right? Cotton boy shorts he thought you’d look so delicate in and lacy pieces of barely there bodysuits he wanted to rip apart and leave stained with his cum.
He's storming over to you now, ignoring the way Richie called out his name to join him for a smoke break. You hear him mutter out a "Okay then, Cousin. I'll just go fuck myself." That Carmen doesn't even acknowledge. All his attention fully focused on you. His words are coming off harsh as his body tries to process all the different emotions coursing through his veins.
"We gotta fuckin' talk."
The words hang heavy in the air and you find yourself entertained with how assertive he’s being.
“Why’s that?” You’re looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. There’s anxiety practically rolling off of Carmy’s body and you’re gonna get to soothing him in a minute but you’re letting him sweat it out first. You didn’t mind that he saw your videos but you were a little pissed he didn’t bring it up. Half because you could have been putting him knowing to use, half because it did feel a little taboo for your boss to be trying to anonymously send you lingerie.
“Nah, don’t play that shit right now. You know why.” His voice is harsh but you know he’s not angry with you. You can smell the combination of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his tongue with how close he is. His cologne comes into the mix and it’s heavenly in all honesty. He’s embarrassed for getting caught, worried he’s gonna lose one of his best chefs, and worried he’s upset you. Someone’s yelling that they need Carmen to sign for a delivery and your time with him is coming to an end for now.
Normally your hand never dips below his shoulders or the top of his chest. Always friendly, light touches. This time your hand comes up to rest flat against his heart and you can feel it quickly beating. “Carmy - Breathe.” Your eyes don’t leave his as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt. Stopping only once you can feel the dip of his hip. “We’re okay. Go handle your restaurant, I’ll talk with you tonight.”
You pat the back of your hand against his hip he’s being called for again, feeling a little dizzy under the intensity of his stare. He’s still nervous, knuckles turning white as he keeps a death grip on the line. “Carmen Berzatto, you’re fine. We’re fine. I promise you, okay?” Finally taking pity on him you give a warm smile, stepping back and breaking eye contact. “Go sign for the clams before we have to change tonight’s special and Sydney kills us.”
———————–★–———
Everyone’s long gone by this point of the night. Tina tried to convince Carmen to go home and get some sleep about twenty minutes ago but he made some excuse about wanting to reorganize the walk-in before tomorrow’s service. Really he’s just counting down the minutes until the two of you are alone. You haven’t been able to talk today - Too many listening ears around for Carmen’s comfort. In your defense, you just minded your business and kept on top of your station.
But God he can’t stop admiring you from across the room. There’s less shame to it now that you know. Still anxiety, yes. But your comforting earlier has him… Hopeful? Hopeful for what he’s not sure.
You catch him staring at one point during dinner service, risking a glance around the kitchen and throwing him a wink before turning back to work and deliberately giving him a small shake of your ass. To anyone else it would probably look like you were just swaying mindlessly. Not to Carmen though. You’re teasing him and it’s working.
Tina’s finally shouting out goodbyes and Carmen’s eyes are trained on watching as you walk towards the office. Any pretend task he was doing is quickly forgotten as he intently follows you. He’s played this situation over in his head a dozen times, even burned himself on the cigarette he forgot he was holding earlier.
He finds you standing by the desk, running your fingers along the edge of it and grinning. “What happened to my present, Carmen?”
“Chucked it in my locker. Couldn’t risk someone findin’ them, you know?” It’s embarrassing enough having to answer to you, he couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the staff (or God forbid his sister) why there’s lingerie with his name on the desk. Carmen’s face is overheated and his heart is pounding. For all the hours he’s spent fantasizing about you, he’s never really considered this conversation until today. Typically he skips right towards fucking you however you’ll let him. But now he’s stuck face to face and trying to figure out how to acknowledge his actions.
"You know I, uh -..." He's sputtering out, trying to figure out just how to defend himself, "You're very, very pretty if that means anything. Fuckin' gorgeous, honestly."
"Did you get off watching me?"
There's no going back now.
"Yeah, I did."
You're grinning at him now, stepping closer and Carmen swears the temperature in the room just went up by ten degrees. He's got his eyes trained on your face for the second time tonight. Hunting out exactly how you're feeling. What he doesn't expect is to feel a feather light touch along the waistband of his pants, nails scratching along his skin as you slide two fingers under the fabric. "Did you think about fucking me? Or did you think about me getting on my knees for you more?"
Carmy's starting to wonder if this is real. Maybe another daydream? For the time being he decides to stay with it though. Trying with all his might to sound as confident as he's mentally done so many times having this part of conversation with you in his head before. "Fucking you. Always thought how much better I'd feel for you than those little toys you use. Sometimes -" He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and trying to build up the confidence to keep this going. He's still not convinced he isn't in some sort of trouble with you. "Sometimes I'd watch you play with your clit. Watch you whine and just knew how badly you needed me to be there."
Your hand slides lower now, fingers pushing through the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Carmen's breathing stops at the touch and you can feel him getting hard under your touch. "Really?" You hum, flattening your hand out and running it down his length. His hips twitch involuntarily as you cup your hand over him, middle finger dragging along his tip. "I've thought about you too, you know? Sometimes you get so fucking pissed off during a rush. I think to myself 'God, he needs to take that anger out' and wonder if fucking me out back would help calm you down. Letting you use me. Sometimes I think you'd walk away after you finish but I know you'd never leave me there all needy and not taken care of, right Carmy?"
He's shaking his head, his heart pounding and he's pretty sure he has never breathed his hard in his life. Labored and uneven while his cock keeps getting hard under your hand. He wants to kiss you, drop to his knees and lick you until you forgive him or decide to take pity and let him fuck you. But instead he settles for showing his need by rocking his hips up against your hand, letting out a broken little groan. "Never would just leave you back there. All I wanna do is - fuck - treat you right. Every night I think about how pretty you must sound begging for me."
You wrap your hand around the base of Carmen's cock, giving him a pleased grin when he fucks himself into your dry fist instantly.
"Do you think you deserve my pussy, Carmy?"
Another jolt of his hips. "No, no I fucking don't."
You lean in, just barely ghosting your lips against his. Carmen has given up all control and allows himself to be fully at your mercy. Your hand pulls back from his cock, sliding out of his pants and he's whining. Shamelessly whining. You're kissing the corner of his mouth, lips traveling down his jaw while you make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You grab ahold of his hand, sliding it down the front of your pants and into your underwear. Keeping his hand flat along yours, you use your fingers to navigate his. Rewarding him with a quiet moan right in his ear as the two of you press down against your clit. "I'm so wet for you, Carmy. Been thinking about what you must feel like ever since I caught you watching me." Your hips are rolling down against your hands as you come back up to face him again, bumping your noses together and rewarding him with another moan when Carmen's hand starts to move on its own. Two rough fingers sliding down from your clit to between your folds.
"C'mon, Chef. Want you to fuck me just like you've been dreaming about. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, hmm?"
Something deep in Camren finally snaps and he’s ready to fully earn your praise. One hand comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a deep kiss while the other hand focuses on teasing your clit. His tongue is licking into your mouth at the same time one of his fingers begins to push into you and the combination of sensations is heavenly. You’re moaning into the kiss, both of your hands coming to wrap around his chest so you can begin pressing your fingers into the muscles of his toned back.
He doesn’t let up - Tongue sliding along yours and his fingers messaging the back of your neck while his other hand pulls out of you. You’re whining at the loss as Carmy pulls back, his fingers coming up to lips as he licks you off of them. “Been dreaming about what you taste like.” He looks sinful - Blue eyes staring into your soul as he follows his early fantasy and pops his fingers out of his mouth. Index finger tracing over your bottom lip until you take the hint and let your jaw fall open. Carmen’s fingers slipping in and weighing heavy against your tongue. “Dream about you begging me to come all over this pretty face.”
You start to rub your thighs together as the heat builds in your core, finding yourself getting more desperate as time goes on. Carmen drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your jeans and helping you step out of them. He’s making sure you're balanced once again before looking up to realize you’re wearing a pair of the underwear he sent you. Carmy smirks to himself, realizing he’s played right into your little game.
You want to make some cocky remark but suddenly his face is between your thighs and you lose all train of thought. His nose bumps along your covered clit before he licks a strip up the soaked fabric. “Can’t believe how fuckin’ wet you are.” Carmy reaches up to slide the panties down your thighs, taking his time and keeping his eyes looking up at you while he does. You watch as the pair is stuffed into his back pocket and he begins to place open mouth kisses along your inner thigh. Lips exploring closer and closer but always just far enough away from where you need him.
Your hand comes down to lace in his hair, the other one reaching over to try and steady your shaky legs by gripping onto the desk. “Carmy please.” You give his hair a little tug, unsure of his pain tolerance but you’re rewarded with a guttural groan coming from below you.
“Fuck - Pull my hair again.”
So you do, getting a better grip at the base and giving his hair a good pull. You direct his head closer to your center and Carmen lets you until he finds himself buried into your pussy. His tongue lapping over your folds and completing a circuit around your clit before going back down to the base of your hole. He’s moaning your name into you, his hands coming up to grab ahold of your ass. Helping you stay balanced while making sure you can’t get too far away from him.
He’s pretty sure if you say his name again he’s going to come in his pants so he’s putting in as much effort as he can to keep you distracted. Delivered a sharp smack to your ass at the same time he sucks onto your clit. He brings his other hand back between your thighs, tongue still working against your clit while he traces you with his bare fingers.
There’s a finger being pushed into you and you tug on Carmen’s hair once again as he quickly pushes another in, dragging them both along your walls and all he can think is how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his cock. “S’good, Carmy. So fucking good. Jesus Christ.”
Your thighs are clamping around Carmy's head and both of your hands fly to grab a hold of his hair as you feel your orgasm start to build up in your stomach. “Shit! Carmen please!” He doesn’t let up, sucking at your clit while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. No one has been able to make you finish like this before and you’re a mess of gasps and moans and hips jerking involuntarily.
It only takes another minute of him stretching you out and licking you up for your orgasm to hit. A mess of curses and cries falling from your lips as the sensation falls over you. Your legs instantly go weak and Carmen’s quick to grab a hold of your hips to keep you upright.
He’s helping you hop onto the ledge of the desk with a reassuring little “Relax, I got you.” Your thighs are shaking, whole body vibrating and you’re keeping your thighs apart to avoid any pressure on your overstimulated clit. Carmen’s so proud of himself at the sight of you trying to recover. He’s between your knees, pressing down his work pants and his boxers before haphazardly kicking them across the floor. Your eyes drag along his chest, over his tattoos, along the length of him that’s thick and beautiful and ready to be buried inside of you.
His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, grabbing ahold and pulling it over your head. Your bra follows suit next. Both of your clothing is covering the floor of the office and you can't help but giggle at the mess made in Carmen's otherwise prestigious space. He's letting out a hum of appreciation at the sight of your breasts. Cupping one in each hand and letting his thumb drag across your nipples. "Fuckin' gorgeous. Been wanting to do this for so long."
There's a mouth wrapped around your nipple now, Carmen making quick work of sucking at it. Flicking his tongue across the hard nub. He pulls back, blowing a stream of cool air against your wet skin before switching to your other breast and repeating the process. You get to sit there and savor the feeling, playing with his hair while Carmen takes his time exploring your breasts. When he thinks you're just blissed out enough, he kisses a path up to leave a small hickey onto your soft skin.
You notice, of course you do.
But you don't complain.
Carmen wonders if you'll let him mark you up before you film anymore content. Wonders how many men will realize they don't stand a chance with you anymore and that you belong to him already.
There's another nip being delivered to the skin of your breasts before he comes back up to give you a warm smile.
Carmen’s leaning in to grab ahold of your jaw, kissing you gently while you reach out to grab ahold of him and get rewarded with a moan. Rubbing your thumb across his tip to collect a bit of moisture and lazily jerk him off. He’d be fine with this and nothing else for the rest of the night. Getting you off and finishing wherever you ask him to but he knows that won’t be enough for you. For now he enjoys exploring your mouth. Getting to taste you and he wonders if you’re tasting yourself on his tongue.
You scoot towards the edge of the desk and wrap your free arm around Carmen’s neck. You’re both so hot to the touch. Hearts beating fast, breathing uneven. Needy and unashamed how obsessed with the other you both are. His hands start rubbing up and down your thighs as he gives you a second to recover from your orgasm. He’s got you smiling against his lips as you kiss him, giving a playful nip to his bottom lip. You can’t decide if you want him to use you while you’re still riding the aftershocks or obsessed with how he’s letting you savor the moment.
Once your thighs stop shaking you wrap them around Carmen’s waist, dragging his body closer to yours. He’s chuckling at you, firm hands sliding down to grab at your hips and your ass, whatever he can get a hold of first. “Wanna watch you put me in. You do so good at fucking yourself in your videos, Baby. Wanna see you tease yourself with me instead of those fucking toys.”
You drag the tip of him through your folds, teasing the both of you. Carmy’s giving up every ounce of control in this moment, all given to you. “So big. You’re gonna make me feel so good, Chef.” There’s a sound coming from deep in his chest, “Use my name.” Oh. You nod the best you can while being so close to him, giving a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m so wet for you, Carmy.”
You’re sliding the length of him between your folds again, tapping his head at your own clit before bringing him to settle right against your hole. Your hand comes around to press on his ass, directing him to push in. It’s hard to tell which sound is coming from who but soon the small office is filled with broken moans as he starts to stretch you out.
His first stroke is slow, both of you adjusting to the sensation. He’s sinking in inch by inch, thinking of whatever bullshit nonsense he can to keep himself from instantly busting when he’s barely even inside of you. His brain is glitching, trying to hold onto this one time he walked in on Fak taking a bubble bath to keep his orgasm at bay but at the same time you’re moaning his name and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and his balls feel so heavy and heavenly resting against you as he bottoms out and -
“Carmen please, please.” Right, focus.
He’s kissing you once again before rolling his hips. There’s his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place and you feel so warm and safe and full. You decide maybe Carmy deserves a little more shit soon for not burying himself inside of you the second he found your channel. “Gonna take care of you, Honey. Feel’s so good huh? Been dreaming of you wrapped around my cock and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”
You nod and feel your body going limp, leaning your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder while he starts to fuck into you. Each time you press a warm, open mouth kiss to his neck his speed picks up. The lewd slapping sound of his cock sliding into your wet pussy combined with his balls slapping against your ass filling the room. He’s bumping his shoulder up against your head, “Look at me? I wanna see your pretty face.”
It takes all the strength left in your body to pick your head back up, “So much better than when I do it myself, Carm. Needed you so bad, so fucking bad.” He grunts, rewarding your praise with a sharp jerk of his hips as he brings his hand down to toy with your still sensitive clit. Your head falls back at the sensation so Carmen brings his free hand to grab your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “Eyes on me.” He wants to make some empty threat that he’ll stop fucking you if you look away again but he can’t even pretend to want to step away from this.
His thumb stays on your clit while we keeps fucking into you at a steady pace. His lips ghosting over yours as you both get closer to falling apart. “You can give me another, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me. You can do that for me, yeah? Wanna be good for me don’t you?” Your nails drag along his back and something about the hiss it draws from his lips and the way his pace sputters at the feeling.
You’re a blubbering mess in all honesty. Any facade from your videos of being cool and collected is long gone as Carmen chases your orgasm. Just whimpering out his name and pleas to the best of your ability until there’s one fateful stroke combined with your clit being brushed against that has you coming undone. Nails dragging into his back and he keeps your head in place to watch as your orgasm plays over your features.
Within seconds you feel him start to pull out of you, presumably for his own release. “Please, Carmy. Wanna feel you fill me up.” Remember how Carmen’s become more religious since he started falling for you? In this moment he truly thinks God made you special just for him.
His lips are crashing into yours, sloppy kisses meant for nothing more than to convey need being shared until you feel his body go stiff. Hips jerking on instinct as he fills you deep with cum. One of the thrusts causes some of the liquid, a combination of the both of you, to push out around the base of his cock and he stores that feeling for later. “Fuck you feel so good like this.”
Carmen’s sensitive and getting soft but he can’t help a few more thrusts into your sloppy pussy. Savoring the way he’s been able to claim you as his. There’s a stray thought that he really does want to film with you one night, keep the camera steady on your pretty body as he defiled it.
He stays buried in you, not quite ready to pull out. Carmen’s analyzing your features from this close - The curve of your nose, how well your lashes frame your eyes, the sleepy little content smile on your lips. He’s fascinated by you. The feeling is mutual as you trace over his tattoos, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your body.
The two of you stay like that for a while, both just soaking the other in. You finally look up from his chest to give him a sheepish girl, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. “So - Better than what you imagined?”
Carmen’s laughing, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming up your heart. He looks lighter than he did when he confronted you this morning, a sparkle in his eye even. “Holy fuck, so much better.” You get another kiss from him after the admission, his hands coming down to grip at your ass. “Let's get you cleaned up and I’m bringing you back to my place for the night, yeah?”
It’s your turn to grin, nodding enthusiastically and giving his bicep a squeeze. “Yes, Chef.”
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto smut#♡: carmen berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy x reader#carmy x you
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@lulz-nematode-belmont ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 and i'm sorry this took soooo long.
Since you were little you've always feared monsters and the dark. Especially the monster under your bed. But as you grew up, you managed to convince yourself that it was just a myth. But now, as you've moved to your new house, over the course of past few months, you feel that the monster under the bed thing wasn't just a myth to scare children.
You wake up in the morning, not even remembering when you went to bed, with bruises on your thighs and your pussy sore. You tried setting up a camera, but "somehow" the camera didn't record anything except darkness.
This time around, you're prepared to stay awake the entire night, so you get in your bed and close your eyes. After almost an hour, you feel your blanket being pulled down from over you. You remain still, and you feel giant hands on your thighs spreading your legs apart.
You feel a presence hover over you, and suddenly you switch on the lights, just to see a tall dark figure, he looks almost like a human, except he has a skin that matches the darkness of the night, his hair as white as snow. His face is pleasing to look at. Even the razor sharp teeth, you feel safe with him around, he starts to retreat wide eyed, but your voice stops him— "You've been visiting me?"
"Yeah" he replies kind of guilty. "I'm not....mad, just surprised" you laugh. "What have you been doing in your visits?" you add on.
"I've been fucking you with my tongue. Couldn't resist" he speaks softly.
You blush at his straightforwardness about what he had been doing. Honestly you didn't mind, just hoped that you could've stayed awake while he was busy eating you out. "You're aroused?"he grunts. Your eyes widen, how could he sense that? You, yourself couldn't. "Am I?" you ask to no one in particular.
"Yeah, more so than the other days." he replies anyways. "Now what?" you question to him. "I can leave if you want me to, but if you want me to stay, just know you'll never get rid of me. You will be mine and I will be yours." he replies, his voice turning dark at the end.
You pause for a bit and then just say one word, "Stay." And all hell breaks loose, you're on your back, legs spread, shorts ripped apart and him face to face with your cunt. You try to close your legs out of shyness but he holds them apart, his voice rough as he speaks "Don't try hiding yourself from me, sunshine. You're all mine."
He then wordlessly licks up your pussy. His teeth carefully toy with your clit. He eats you out with so much vigor, it makes your back arch off the bed, and he pins you down by your hips to the bed. He gets so messy, it's like he's eating you out for his own pleasure rather than yours. He continues his ministrations on your poor cunt and you cum around his tongue. He keeps on going until you come 3-4 times more.
"I think that's enough for you tonight. yeah?" He speaks. You're too tired to say anything and wordlessly pull him closer to you to cuddle him.
#monster boyfriend#monster fucker#monster smut#monster x human#tw teratophilia#teratophillia#terato#monster under the bed#monster#monster bf#monster romance#monster x reader#monster x you#tw monsterfucking#monsterfucking nsft#monster nsft
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✧ 𝟔𝟎𝟑 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 || luke hughes ♔
summary: exam season is the worst season ever for y/n and the only person who can calm her down is 603 miles away from her
warnings: finals, essays, stress, crying, long-distance
publish date: 02/10/24
notes: i think i'm entering a new luke obsession phase because that's all i wanted to write yesterday and today. oh right! based off of this request -> idea! there is a point of me saying 603 miles a million times in this, (it's like four times) it's literally the name of the fic... so if you're annoyed then oh well, don't read it (apologies for mean emma today, i'm tired). add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
She expected this to happen, the pounding in her head, the 20 tabs open on her computer, the dozens of resource articles and research strewn about in her room, the five packets of review guides sitting in a stack on her desk, the half drank cup of coffee, and the tears springing in her eyes. The white noise coming from her earbuds was starting to bother her causing her to rip them out of her ears and throw them somewhere where she probably wouldn’t be able to find them again.
She could hear voices in the living room, just outside her closed bedroom door. They were laughing about something, what it was she had no idea. Her three roommates all had presentations tomorrow and that was it, no more studying, no more writing, they were done. She, however, still had three papers to write and two exams to take. She had regretted her decision to take this many classes this semester but she was preparing herself for her future.
She had gone to stand up, feeling dizzy immediately as her feet planted flat on the floor. She held a hand to the wall, bracing herself from toppling over. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurry sight of tears, dehydration, and lack of nutrition. She knew people would be worried about her if they were to see her like this, her hair matted and pulled into a bun as best as she could, and mascara dried on her face that highlighted the dark circles and bags under her eyes. She was wearing Luke’s sweatshirt, the Devils logo plastered over it in the center, mocking her, reminding her that her boyfriend was 603 miles away from her.
At the thought, she allowed herself to tear up more, letting tear after tear fall. There wasn’t much she could do, he was in the middle of a game right now. When she realized he had a game, she turned it on and watched with a soft smile whenever he would show up on the TV. Despite knowing the fact that he would not answer his phone, she called him, hoping to just hear his voice through his voicemail.
When his voice reached her ears, she could feel some of the tension release from her body. However, the feeling was short-lived as the beep from the end of his voicemail was heard. She didn’t leave a message, she just hung up and watched the remainder of the second period. When the horn blarred in the arena and through the tv speakers, she shut off the screen and returned to work, making her head hurt more.
She didn’t notice the multiple attempts Luke had made to call her, her phone having died 20 minutes prior when she was writing her essay. Her headphones laid atop of her earbuds, trying to create a total noise blocker from her apartment’s noises. She had been ripping off post-it notes after post-it notes, scrambling to write down as many ideas as her brain could process.
Meanwhile, Luke had been minorly, no majorly, freaking out. She would never call him if he was at a game, not even if it was super important. He could feel himself start to sweat again as he rushed to put his suit jacket on, wiggling his feet into his shoes. He had gone home by himself, not feeling the need to celebrate when his girl could be suffocating 603 miles away from him.
Ever since they’ve known each other, Luke has known about y/n’s tendencies to throw herself into her school work. He remembers the first time he saw her during exam season. It was the end of their freshman fall term, they had been dating for four months at the time. They had just gotten back from their games in Ohio, he was exhausted from the trip and their 6-1 loss following their win the previous day. All he had wanted to do was go over to her dorm and lay in bed with her.
✧༺✎༻∞
He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer but nothing came. He felt saddened and knocked again. He received the same answer, none. He turned around and slid down the wood door, hitting the ground with a thud. He put his hands on his head as he waited, kicking his bag to the side. It was only then he heard the footsteps come rushing down the hallway and looked up to see her. She had her backpack that looked as if it weighed 10 pounds, she was clutching five books in her arms and a coffee cup rested on top of them. She had been mumbling when she noticed him and her eyes lit up, “Hi!”
“Hi pretty girl, whatcha doing?”
“Studying.”
He looked at the way her eyes were hidden by the circles underneath them and frowned. He reached out to grab the books from her grasp and she gratefully accepted the offer, going straight to dig the keys out of her bag, “How were the games? Did you guys win?”
He felt heartbroken and confused, she always watched his games when they went away. She would always be the one to point out his goal or an assist that he got, sometimes she even pointed out if Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, or even Owen got a goal. He watched as she pushed the door open, removing her hand from her side to run it through her hair, “You didn’t watch?”
She turned to him, dropping her bag on the ground and reaching out for her books, “No, I was studying. Sorry, Lu.”
Studying? At that time? He did nothing but let her take the books, watching as she started to clean up her dorm. It was only then that he had noticed the state her dorm was in. There were empty boxes scattering the floor, paper plates and bowls on any surface possible, and some of her clothes were mixed in with her roommate’s, it was a mess, to say the least. He made no effort to say anything about it, though.
She cleaned as much as she could in a matter of five minutes, looking at him with a small smile on her face, “I’m sorry I didn’t watch. I was going to watch the highlights when I got back tonight.”
“Back from?”
“Library. I think I’m starting to become a regular for everyone who works there.”
The thought of her being a regular was somewhat concerned, “How often have you been going?”
His voice was a mixture of stern and worried, his eyes somewhat squinted in a glare. She looked as if she had committed a crime at the tone of his voice, “Every day… from the time class was over until they closed.”
His eyes widened, “Jesus y/n.”
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to study. I need to do well.”
“I understand that but you can’t work yourself to the brink of death.” He grabbed the coffee out of her hand and emptied it into the sink, getting rid of the cup afterward.
She whined at the motion, watching him in horror as if he just hit a bird with his car. He walked back over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Tomorrow you are not going to touch a single book, I won’t even let you touch your computer.”
“But-”
“Nuh-uh, nope. No computer, no books, no papers, no anything school-related. We are going to stay in your bed and watch movies all day and eat properly.”
“I eat properly!” She exclaimed in offense.
He gave her a look that said all the different, “Sure. Now I can only hope you still have some of my clothes here somewhere because I do not want to talk to my dorm right now.”
She pointed in embarrassment to one of her draws, “In there.”
He kissed her forehead and grabbed the clothes before heading for the bathroom, “I’ll be back and I better not see you do any work when I get back.”
She nodded but as soon as he left she ran to her backpack and grabbed her computer. She rushed to finish the last two paragraphs of her essay before he got back but luck was not on her side as she was halfway through her last paragraph and the doorknob turned. She had been so focused on writing that she didn’t care that he entered, “Just let me finish my last paragraph.”
He sighed, dropping his clothes into her laundry basket. He walked back to her bed and looked at her, “Last paragraph?”
“Mhm.” She nodded and scooted over so Luke could sit next to her, “Fine. I don’t want you to lose your train of thought.”
She beamed up at him and kissed his cheek before returning to her work.
✧༺✎༻∞
Ever since then, he had been careful with how much he left her alone in exam season. He always called on road trips, always went to the library with her to make sure she didn’t overwork herself, always made sure she was eating properly and always made sure that she was okay. But now being 603 miles it was hard to do that for her.
Luke was packing a bag as fast as he could, looking at his laptop for the earliest flight out of there which wasn’t until early the next morning, leaving at 7 and not arriving until 9. Then he would have to wait to get a car and do a 30-minute drive to Ann Arbor. He groaned at the time and went to throw something, at that point he could drive there and be there before getting a plane but he was in no state to drive.
He continued to try and call her for 30 minutes, on the brink of giving up at that point. Her phone was still dead and she had yet to realize it. She had music playing through her earbuds attached to her computer, typing about something that she considered stupid and unnecessary. She only took breaks to take a sip of coffee or to groan and throw her head back in exhaustion and frustration.
Luke threw his phone on the bed, running his hands down his face, falling asleep not even five minutes later. Y/n was the same way, she closed her laptop as she finished her last sentence, finally allowing herself to take a break. She got up to go make a burrito in the kitchen, waving to her friends who were also still awake at the time.
She went to turn her phone on and that was when she realized the lack of battery it had. She shrugged it off and put it down on her nightstand before walking back out to eat and finish watching the movie with her roommates.
✧༺✎༻∞
She didn’t go to bed until almost three in the morning despite finishing the movie four hours ago. Once they finished, she looked at the piles of paper and study guides she still had to do and sighed. Deciding that her first class wasn’t until noon, she could easily get done with one or two study guides or an essay in three.
She curled up on her bed when she was done and wrapped the blankets around her tightly. When she woke up and went to look at her phone and saw a tweet from Amanda from an hour ago, “Luke is not at morning practice due to personal reasons. Should expect him back for Saturday’s game in Columbus.”
She immediately woke up at the fact, looking back at her other notifications. There must’ve been at least a dozen missed calls from Luke and 15 text messages. She could only think about the worst, if he had gotten hurt but just didn’t want to tell someone, if he had been so drunk that he couldn’t think straight, if he had a panic attack last night. Her thoughts raced but halted when there was a knock on the door.
She went out to the living room, still clad in her sweats from the previous night. Her friends must’ve either already left or were still sleeping. She walked to the door, peeking through the peephole and gasping. She all but ripped the door open, “Lukey?”
He smiled when he saw her, immediately feeling better. Her eyes were still the same from the first time he had experienced her like this and he knew there would probably be a coffee pot brewing in the next few minutes, but he was here now and that was a wave of relief, “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t answering my calls and I know you were studying last night so you probably wouldn’t have answered them anyway. But when I saw you called during the game I got worried because you never call. And I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you weren’t overworking yourself but i can tell that you are.”
She frowned at his words but also felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him flying out just because he wanted to ensure she was okay. She stepped aside to let him in and then led him to her bedroom. It was cleaner than what he had witnessed in the past years.
“You can’t just fly out every time you think I’m overworking myself, Luke.”
“I know but I wasn’t thinking. I was worried, really worried.” He held her hand, playing with her fingers as a form of comfort, “How long were you up to last night?”
She hesitated before responding, “3…”
He only sighed and tugged her closer to the bed so they could lay down, “Luke I have class in two hours.”
“I know but just for a little bit, and then I’ll take you to class.”
“You still know you’re way around campus?”
“Did I ever know my way around campus?”
She shook her head and laughed, “No.”
He smiled at her laugh, “You do realize I’m only going to be allowing you to rest while I’m here right?”
“But I have one more essay to finish.”
He glared at her, “Fine, but after that, you are going to be right here, in my arms, and not thinking about school at all.”
“Deal.”He kissed her before allowing her to get up and get ready for class. They both walked on campus to her class with the same thought, grateful that Luke had come to see her. Even with being 603 miles away from each other, they would do anything to be there for one another.
𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you
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Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!
Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.
He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.
What Duke gets instead isn’t even words.
Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.
“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”
He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.
“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,
Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”
Jason looks him over critically, then nods.
Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing.
This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.
He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.
For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.
He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.
And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.
Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white.
Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.
Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.
Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws.
The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all.
The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope.
“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.
Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”
Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”
“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”
“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”
“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.
“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”
Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”
Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room.
“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”
Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others.
Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.
Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape.
Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.
The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic.
His left hipbone burns.
Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.
The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.
And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.
“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.
“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”
The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”
“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”
“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”
The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room.
“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.
He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.
“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”
“You—what?”
“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.
Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances.
“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”
“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”
Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”
“And you dreamed of me.”
“I did.”
“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”
“Okay.”
“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”
“I’ll help,” Phantom says.
“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”
“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”
Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”
“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”
“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”
“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”
There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.
Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.
“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”
“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”
Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”
“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again.
“Let’s go find them, then!”
They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together.
The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now.
He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dc x dp fic#prompt fill#my writing#when its the end of the world but youre soulmate is here and ready to help fix it#meanwhile constantine had gone ON and ON about how dangerous summoning realms beings are#and all the precautions they have to take and how to be specific when making deals etc etc#it was supposed to be only the justice league but with the world ending they wanted their proteges and allies with them in case things#went wrong w the summoning. and with the rest of the bats helping out in gotham and around the east coast#signal gets to join batman. plus hes got his meta powers that could help in the worst case scenario#NO ONE predicated signal and the GHOST KING being SOULMATES#batman leaves for gotham immediately. updates the rest of the team w 'ghost king successfully summoned. he's signal's soulmate.'#and does not respond to ANYONE after dropping that bomb on them lol#they do all get to meet phantom when they join forces to find whatever doomsday cult caused all this#and the world gets saved!!#also. semi related to all this. the speedesters are gone bc time went wacky and they tried to fix things. but then the speedforce kinda#came to life and trapped them. so they have been lowkey eaten by the speedforce bc the speedforce is the true eldritch monstrosity here#anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#working on ur other two prompts now :)
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So Unlike You (Yunho x Fem!Reader)
Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!reader/ Side pairing: OT8 x fem!Reader
Word Count: 6k
Genre: smut sprinkled with fluffiness/ AU: sugar baby, idolverse
Summary: After hearing about you and Wooyoung, your sweet puppy makes a very surprising request, and you're eager to oblige him.
Warnings: cnc, consensual non consensual, rape play, edging, bondage, light bondage, spanking, pussy slapping, rough oral sex, oral sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it, but it's also discussed beforehand that they don't use one), pet names, mean names, roleplay, ripping clothes off, groping, polyamorous relationship, established relationship, poly!ateez, poly!reader, sugar baby au, idolverse au, dirty talk, super dirty, like damn. Sex toys, nipple play, nipple clamps
MINORS DNI!
Previously on Idol Companion
*****
Yunho was the sweetest, most gentle man you know. This was saying something considering your other boyfriends were equally sweet. He never hesitated to help or comfort you. You remembered him waiting on you hand and foot when you’d gotten sick. He’d driven you and Mihee to her ex-boyfriends’ house in case they showed up. Yunho never showed you anything other than respect, kindness and compassion. Yunho was your mood maker, your gentle giant, the other half of your “Twin Towers”. He rarely showed his “bad” side in front of you; you almost denied he even had one since he rarely rose to anger.
So, his request certainly caught you off guard.
You’d both come back home from a simple date night of arcade games, pizza, and a stroll down by the river. Yunho’s calming, laid back energy always felt refreshing after particularly rough days. You spent an afternoon wrangling toddlers, talking to parents, helping your friend Mihee settle into her dorm, and talking to your mom about your cousin's birthday party. Ending your day with your sweetest boyfriend relieved you of all the stress on your shoulders. Walking into the apartment together, you remained as quiet as possible to not disturb a sleeping Yeosang, so you both drank a glass of wine in the kitchen.
“You know that I love you, right?” Yunho asked nervously, sitting across from you at the island counter.
This phrase became popular amongst your boyfriends, since they typically followed it up with something suspicious. Still, how bad could it possibly be? It was Yunho.
“I’m aware,” you gave a sweet smile, “But you can always remind me, if you want.”
He gave a nervous laugh, running his fingertip around the rim of the wine glass. You could see him thinking it over in his mind, turning it around and around for the right words. Several scenarios crossed your mind as you watched him think. He’s ill. He’s in debt. His family is in trouble and he needs your help. There are so few things that could be wrong, but you hoped it wasn’t so bad.
“Yuyu-ah,” you reached out for him, concerned now, “What’s the matter? You can tell me. Are you sick? Is your family okay? You don’t need to hesitate with me, you know that.”
“It’s nothing like that,” he shook his head, taking your hand gently. “Really,” he insisted, “It’s…Wooyoung told me you and him tried something new in bed a while back and…”
A relieved smile came across your face, “And you wanted to try that too? Yunho, you don’t have to be scared to approach me about trying new things. I trust you with my body every time, don’t I? I didn’t think you’d like free use play, but if you’re curious about it, we can give it a go.”
“That sounds nice, but that’s not what I wanted to ask you about.”
“Then what?”
“I wanted to see if you…if you…”
“If I…?”
“If you’d ever like to try consensual non-consensual play with me.” He blurted out the words before drowning them back with wine.
The request stunned you a moment. You sunk deep into your thoughts to try comprehending the suggestion. Not that you’re against rape play. You’ve heard of other people doing it, and you’d done it once with another client in a safe, trusting environment. But, you expected such suggestions from that person, not from Yunho. You pictured Yunho, taller and bigger and stronger, pinning you to his bed and harshly pounding into you while you whined and pleaded with him to stop. He’d have no trouble overpowering you if you truly fought back. Unlike other clients before him, you knew Yunho would only do it if you gave a firm, certain ‘yes’ and after a long discussion over ground rules and safety colors/words. Seeing his large hands, you remembered each time they went around your throat or sharply slapped your ass. Yunho could be rough and dominant if he truly wanted.
“You want to do that?” you asked, dumbfounded still.
“Um, well…” he smoothed a hand through his black hair, scratching the back of his head, “I’ve always wanted to try it with someone, but I never dated anyone long enough to feel comfortable asking. Since we’ve done kinky things together, I thought, maybe if you wanted to and felt certain, we could try that?” His puppy eyes met yours, and you melted. “I swear I won’t be upset if you say ‘no’. Please, don’t feel you have to agree with it because you’re my Companion or anything. We definitely do not have to do it, if you’re uncomfortable with that. I only thought I’d ask. It’s okay. It’s totally okay if you don’t want to do it.”
“Yunho,” you ran your thumb the back of his hand comfortingly, “If there’s anyone I’d feel comfortable doing that with, it’s you.”
A light pink brightened his cheeks, and he giggled, “Really?”
“Yes,” you nodded, “I’ll admit I’m surprised it’s you who asked me. I expected Hongjoong or Jongho to ask, if any of you ever did.”
“I know,” he blushed, “But I thought you might say ‘no’ because it’s not something we’d normally do in bed. It’d be different from the usual dominant stuff we do, and a bit rougher.”
“You want to wreck me, Yuyu?” you teased, laughing softly when he turned away again. “I don’t mind. I trust you to take care of me, and I think it's a new thing for us to explore.”
“Really? It's honestly okay if you don't want to,” he repeated.
“Yunho, yes,” you assured him, walking around the counter and into his arms. “I'd like to try it too. You want to do that now or another time?”
“No, not now,” he shook his head, “When Yeosang goes to see his parents. That way he doesn't over hear it and think that I'm actually hurting you. Besides,” he pulled you closer and smirked, “That way you can be as loud as you like.”
A laugh was muffled by his kiss. After getting his confirmation, you and Yunho discussed exactly what he wanted to do. He asked if you both could do “the entire act” which included you refusing sex and him not taking a “no” scenario. Nothing too elaborate, yet enough to set a dynamic and tone. You both decided on a color system, and your usual safe word “Buttercup”. Being a toy user, you told him you didn't mind the toys or if he decided to restrain you somehow, which led to a discussion about ropes or handcuffs that you left up to him. You agreed to a day and time that would be best for both of you, then went to bed together.
****
“Bye, Yeosangie!”
You kissed Yeosang for the hundredth time that morning, trying to capture as much of it as you could. He'd be gone for three days to see his parents, so you cashed in as many kisses as possible. Yunho’s request did excite you, so perhaps you appeared a bit eager to get him out the door at the same time.
“I'm going to miss you,” you pouted in his arms.
“I'll only be gone three days, babe,” he laughed, hugging you tightly still. “You have seven other boyfriends to keep you company until I come back.”
“But none of them will watch reality shows with me,” you said, toying with the strings of his hoodie. “Who's going to talk shit about bitchy housewives with me?”
You recently managed to get a VPN to watch reality tv shows from other countries. Yeosang quickly became your reality junk buddy after a Real Housewives episode.
“We can stream them online, and watch them together that way,” he replied. “We do live in the age of technology after all.”
“It's not the same,” you whined, hugging him.
“YN, he's not going off to war,” said Yunho from behind you. “He's coming back.”
“What if a war happens and he has to go before then?” You joked, mocking a sad tone and burying your face in Yeosang's neck. “I'll never see him again.”
The three of you laughed before Yeosang gave you one more kiss, then released you. You'd offered to drive him to the station, but he insisted that you stay home. A part of you wondered if Yunho hinted at the afternoon plans. The both of you let him leave, waving goodbye until he closed the door behind him. You tiptoed to kiss Yunho’s cheek, then went to clean up the breakfast dishes.
Your eyes paid attention to the time while you washed dishes. Yunho said he'd like to do it around noon, since that gave you both plenty of time before, during and after, so you suspected he was preparing his room right now. The anticipation left you thinking of all the possible things Yunho could do to you. You never experienced a mean Yunho before, but the members said it can be scary. You told him he didn't have to hold back with you; it's his fantasy and you'd be fine with whatever he decided. Since it's his first time doing this, he said he'd be gentle but once that arousal boils up, that might disappear. Finishing up the counter space, you looked at the clock to see it was half past noon. You worried Yunho might have been too nervous and backed out. Even though it was his idea, you told him if he ever changed his mind you wouldn't be upset and he said vice versa for you. You’d moved to wait in the living room when he appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Hey you.”
Yunho stood there in a long black shirt and shorts. His face bare and hair free of product, Yunho stripped down to his real self. You often said how you preferred them without all the makeup and hairspray. The stylists always made their skin a lighter shade, and they covered up Yeosang's pretty red wine birthmark. Seeing Yunho as himself, wearing simple clothes, flustered you more than his stage outfits. He leaned against the counter, eyes already peeling off your clothes. Heat rose up from under your shirt at the sight. It reminded you of the villains in dramas, who ooze sex appeal and wickedness at the same time. The kind that are hard to root against because they're so damn good looking.
“Hey,” you kept your tone light and casual, “I just finished cleaning up. I was going to watch this new movie I found, if you want to join me.”
“Nah,” he shook his head, eyes focused on your chest, “I have something else I want to do instead.”
“Game?” You suggested innocently.
“No,” he drawled, shaking his head. He walked around the counter towards you, eyes glinting with lust. His hands rested on your waist, while he leaned into you, “I'd like to do you.”
“Yunho,” you sighed, sliding from his warm embrace, “Not now. I'm tired, and not really in the mood.”
“But…” Yunho scoffed incredulously, “That's your job though.”
You hesitated. You never thought such words would come out of his mouth. “Yunho…”
“You're a Companion,” he continued, “Fucking me is your whole job. Sure, okay, we go on dates and all that, but at the end of the day if I want some ass, you're supposed to give it to me.”
His words. The irritated look in his eyes. Intimidating and standing taller, you couldn't help being flustered by the change in him. He should do more acting.
“I don't have to if I don't want to,” you argued back, yanking your wrist from him.
“Yes, you do,” he roughly grabbed it back, “It's not like you don't like it. You give it up to Hongjoong all the time. You let us gangbang you in front of cameras, and at home. I'm not going to ask you to do anything you haven't done a hundred times before.”
You made an attempt to escape his grasp, but he really did hold onto you. Quickly, he pulled you to him as you struggled and planted a hard kiss on your lips. He told you he wanted you to truly fight him back; he assured you he wouldn't hurt you too badly. You lightly slapped his shoulders, wriggling in his hold as the kiss deepened and he forced his tongue into your mouth. A soft groan escaped him as he trapped you between himself and the counter. You swatted at him, trying to scoot free as he kissed and nibbled down your neck. The bulge grazed against you kindled a fire inside you, but you forced it back down.
“Yunho-ah, stop it,” you scoffed, pushing him away briefly. When you slapped him lightly, he glared. It aroused you further.
“No,” he grunted, hands wrapping around you once more. You squeaked at the hands squeezing your ass, feeling it through the thin shorts you wore. “I'm horny, and your job is to fix that. Let me see these.”
“No!”
You tried blocking his hands from sliding under your top to lift your shirt, but it didn't work. He lifted the tight top above your breasts, which he immediately kneaded in his hands. Yunho’s jaw dropped at the sight of them in his palms, your nipples hardening against his palms. You’d opted out of a bra today, and you’re glad you did. The sudden intrusion made you gasp. Using one leg to spread yours, Yunho groaned as he cupped both breasts.
“Stop,” you said, trying to cover them from view but purposefully failing. “I'm going to call Hongjoong,” you threatened.
“For? For him to come watch?” He smirked, flicking at one of your nipples. “He loves watching, and I normally don't mind, but I want to keep it just you and me today.” You grabbed his wrists when he moved down to your shorts, shaking your head and breathing heavily. “Let me see you,” he ordered, “It's mine, after all. I pay for it.”
“I don't want to,” you shot back, though you did not appear as confident as you sounded. “Leave me alone.”
“No.”
You gasped when his hand grabbed your sex. Long fingers sliding fully over your shorts, he massaged it in circles that had you frozen in place.
“Gosh, it's so warm,” he moaned, his other hand going back to fondling your breast. “And it gets wet so easily. I only have to rub it a few times and it's soaked. We really hit gold when we got you.”
“Let go,” you demanded, but didn't move.
Yunho then turned you around, pressing you into the counter once more, and continued feeling you up. His hardon brushing your ass now, he let out a low moan when you instinctively pushed back. Soft panting filled your ear as he lightly touched you. You pushed against his hands, trying to tear yourself from him, but he kept a firm grip on you.
“Yunho, I mean it. Let me go.”
“Ugh, shut up already. It's not like I haven't done this before.”
“I will tell management. I'm not kidding.”
He yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him over your shoulder, and scowled. “Go ahead. I'll tell them you asked for it and they'll believe me. Nobody believes sluts like you,” he grabbed your chest again and pinched your nipples, “I’ll even tell them you didn’t wear a bra. ‘Well, hyungmin, YN wasn’t wearing a bra, and I was only giving her what she wanted’,” he said in a mocking tone, his voice tickling your nerves, “‘Noonanim, YN wanted it a little rough’. Honestly, YN, who do you think they’ll listen to?”
This empty threat made you hold back a giggle. You never expected him to be so in character.
“Buttercup,” you snorted, unable to hold it in.
“What's wrong?” His concern dropped once he heard you giggling. “What? Is it too cheesy?”
“No, it's you being so in character.”
“I did work on a drama once. I guess you can say I'm an actor,” he kissed beneath your ear, “Do you want me to dial back the realness?”
“A bit.”
“Alright. Time in?”
“Time in.”
Returning to his character, Yunho took your arm and started dragging you to his room. Your heart started racing, a breath catching in your throat at the sudden roughness in him. He brought you into his room, slamming the door behind him and threw you onto his bed.
“Yunho!” You exclaimed before he forced himself on top of you. “Yunho, stop it!”
“No,” he grunted, taking hold of both your wrists. “You're my girlfriend. You're supposed to fuck me whenever I want, and right now, I want it.”
“Yunho, please!” You added a whimper at the end as you let him take your wrists.
He grabbed a belt from beside you and wrapped it around your wrists. You still wriggled beneath him as if trying to escape, but you made no real escape attempt. The adrenaline sent blood rushing to your core. Every single nerve in your body tingled each time his body brushed against yours. Holding down your arms, Yunho kissed you deeply again and grinded into you. His hardon pressed lightly against your thigh each time, and he followed it with a soft groan. You let out more whining, even turning your head before he grabbed your chin to roughly kiss you. One hand putting your hands onto a hook on the headboard, the other slid up your body to your breast for a soft squeeze. Unable to free your arms, you could do nothing but move around as Yunho kissed and caressed your body. Large, warm hands slid up to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them through your shirt.
“Give me clothes you don't care about. I want to rip them off you.”
You'd left an old tank top, shorts, and underwear in his bedroom last night. When you got them this morning, you saw he'd made small slits in each piece to rip them easier. He'd cut into the tank top by the neckline, which he took a hold of now. He stayed on top of you, grabbing your tits while he continued grinding into you. You never realized how much stronger Yunho is compared to the other members. Mingi, Jongho, San and Yeosang worked out often, so you expected it, but Yunho had size on his side. He kept you firmly pinned even with the belt and hook aiding him, and he made sure your hips did not move too much.
“I don't know why you bother with clothes,” he grumbled, “Whores don't need clothes.”
You yelped when the sound of ripping fabric followed, exposing your bare chest to him. Hungrily, Yunho took one nipple in his mouth to suck while his other hand pinched the opposite side. He continued grinding into you, groaning softly. You loved how you could feel his dick through his pants, hard and pulsing in his boxers and into your center.
“Yunho, please stop,” you cried, giving a sniff. “Please, don't do this.”
“Shut up,” he growled, kissing further down your body.
“Please-”
“-I said ‘shut up’, slut,” he repeated firmly, slapping your cheek lightly. “You don't speak again unless I speak to you first, got it?”
“Yes,” you sniffled, pouting and giving him doe eyes.
“Sit up.”
He helped you into a sitting position where your mouth came to level with his crotch. With a swift tug of his waistband, his semi-hardon stood inches from your face. Yunho removed his shirt, and you took in his lean form. Not as defined as the others, you still wanted to kiss and feel every inch of him. Yet, despite your clit pulsing from the sight, you pretended to push back and away from him. Shaking your head, you purse your lips as Yunho brought your head back into position. When you didn’t immediately open your mouth, Yunho pinched your nose and slapped his tip against your lips. The light tapping combined with the instinct to breathe caused you to gasp. A gasp that Yunho instantly snuffed out with his dick. Grasping your hair, he kept you in place while he smoothly went in and out of your mouth. You continued whimpering and trying to get away, but not too hard. Yunho’s pulsating cock slid over your tongue, and tempted you into touching yourself. You heard his haggard breathing getting heavier, moans starting to escape him as he stared down at you. Soon, Yunho was thrusting himself into your throat. Your humming vibrated around his tip, and he chuckled.
“That’s right,” he said through gritted teeth, “Hum around my cock. Go ahead. I know how much you like it.”
You gave a fake sob as he started gagging you. Each deep thrust ended with you gulping and gasping when he pulled off you. Thin streams connected your lips to his tip, and Yunho used this connection to smear himself on your chin and cheeks. Both hands on your head, Yunho forced you to the hilt and stayed there at least a few seconds at a time.
“Yunho, stop,” you coughed, “It…It hurts.”
“It doesn’t seem to hurt when Seonghwa does it,” he grunted, “So take it.”
You hadn’t said ‘buttercup’ again, so Yunho did not stop. Purposefully, you didn’t hollow in your cheeks to suck him. When he saw you simply keeping your mouth open he scoffed.
“No, no, no, suck it,” he ordered, pushing himself into your throat. When you didn’t suck, he poked his tip to your cheek and slapped it. “Suck it right, slut,” he slapped you again, the sting mixing with the ache in your throat. “Don’t act like you’ve never sucked dick before. Hollow out those cheeks and-Fuck, yes, like that.”
Whimpering, you started sucking him properly. This made him give your throat a break and focus on rubbing himself on your tongue and lips. You wriggled around on the bed as your own arousal started throbbing between your thighs. A bundle of his sheets against your sex tempted you into grinding against his mattress, eager for a form of relief. Yet, you knew you’re meant to not want this, so you kept yourself firmly planted on the bed. Yunho chuckled through a groan.
“Look at you,” he mocked, smacking your cheek again as he pushed against your inner cheek. “Filthy, dumb slut getting turned on by me using her mouth.” When you let out a muffled wail, he plunged deep into your throat again, “Don’t act like you don’t like it. It’s what you’re paid to do. I’m only taking what I pay good money for.”
He kept you planted there as he started fucking your mouth roughly. A slight pain burned in your throat after a while, making your eyes swim with tears that came down your cheeks. The cheap mascara and eyeliner you’d applied colored the tears with black, a look Yunho asked for specifically. Your clit throbbed while your walls clenched for something to grab onto; your nipples tingled and hardened from imaging his mouth and hands on them. Yunho, seeing your nipples erect, reached down for one as he continued abusing your mouth. Index and thumb fingers rolled it in between them, the twinge of pain adding to the burning pleasure. Sharp slaps to them every so often made you whine around the cock ravaging your mouth.
Without a word, he pulled you off him and pushed you back onto the pillows. “I know exactly what to do with these,” he huffed, reaching into a box beside the bed.
You laid there, coughing and clearing your aching throat, as he shifted through a selection of toys, unable to keep yourself from wriggling around underneath him. When he withdrew a chain of nipple clamps, you widened your eyes and shook your head. While the sight of them usually excited you, you pretended to fear it as you struggled to get away from Yunho. This only made him hook your bound wrists back to his headboard. Straddling your thighs, Yunho bent down and greedily sucked one of your nipples. He cupped and squeezed while teasing the sensitive peaks with his tongue.
“Yunho-ah,” you cried, sniffling and shaking your head, “Please, stop it.”
“Shut up,” he snapped, spanking one of your tits for emphasis.
“Yunho, please don’t put those. They hurt a lot-”
“Do I look like someone who gives a fuck? Shut. Up. And. Take. It.”
His meanness only turned you on more. You watched him prepare you for the clamps and purposefully moved around to make your breasts jiggle. Yunho looked over at you for a moment. You saw him admiring your hands tied to the headboard, seeing the drool and tears left on your face. You pouted, giving him a pleading look that made his jaw drop. He wanted you to be pathetically helpless against his big, strong body. He wanted you pleading for mercy and saying ‘no’ until the very end. He bent down over you again, pecking your lips softly and nuzzling your nose gently. Neither of you said anything, but you still sniffled and whimpered as he went back to sucking and biting your nipples. You often tried keeping whichever breast he chose from his mouth before he grabbed them harshly and kept you in place. The clamps brought a never ending wave of pleasure that you forced yourself to restrain.
“Just as pretty as I thought,” he gave a self-satisfied smile as the chain pulled your nipples. He slapped the sides to see them bounce against his hands, “They’re prettier covered in loads of cum.”
“Yunho-”
He roughly grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks to keep you quiet, “You just don’t know how to shut up, do you? How many times do I have to say it?”
“Yunho,” you sobbed.
“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” he scoffed. Going back to the box, he took out a dildo-gag. Only a few inches, it wouldn’t go to your throat but it’d certainly keep you quiet. “Open up.”
You shook your head, rolling your lips closed.
“I said ‘open up’, slut.”
He pinched your nose again, and you tried holding your breath as long as possible until you gave in. The second your mouth opened, the gag went inside. He strapped it securely behind your head, enough to keep it from coming loose but not so tight it truly hurt you.
“There,” he said, “Maybe now you’ll finally shut up. You’re prettier when you’re not talking.”
The toy in your mouth caused saliva to build up around it, which you tried swallowing down to keep it from coming out. That didn’t prepare you for what he did next: Yunho went further down your body to your shorts. He roughly and hurriedly tugged them off you, and groaned at the sight of your wet panties. Your pussy ached when he heatedly tore them enough to reveal your sex and ass, the cheap fabric hanging by the elastic bands. When you tried closing your legs, he forced them back apart and sat between your thighs to keep you spread out. Your heart started racing in anticipation, sensing his hard cock close to your dripping sex, and expected him to go inside right away. But no. Yunho planned to drag this out.
Lifting your legs up by the ankles, he pressed your knees to your chest and swatted your bare pussy. The stinging pain added to the clamps on your nipples, and you thought you might cum if he continued spanking you. Yunho’s quick, hard slaps teased your exposed clit, the brief touch sliding across your pussy each time his hand came down. Seeing you trembling on the bed, Yunho stopped spanking and rubbed your sore lips gently.
“I know you’re not about to cum,” he said, a threat in his voice. “I know you’re not about to cum before me. I didn’t say anything about you getting to cum first.” He spit right on it, swirling it around slowly, “No, no, no. We’ve told you before that a proper slut would let us cum first. This is for my pleasure, not yours,” he slapped your pussy particularly hard to which you gave a muffled cry, “I don’t pay you to have orgasms. I pay you to give me orgasms.”
You attempted to plead, but your gag kept you quiet.
“What’s that?” he cocked his head to hear you, “You’re going to be a good toy and let me fuck you however I like? Hm, that’s good to know.” He laughed when you reverently shook your head, “Oh, you know you love it. Your pussy certainly loves it.”
He grabbed his dick and started tapping it against your pussy. The teasing motion stirred the pot boiling inside you. You could feel your orgasm slowly rolling to the front, about to explode right onto his wet tip until he’d stop. When you’d calm down, he’d go right back to teasing his length against your pussy. It became absolute torture. If you ever stopped being wet enough, he’d spit right where you both met to keep you slick enough for him. You took the moment to watch his body tense up at the flickers of pleasure grinding into you gave him. One hand gripping your thigh, the other made sure his dick moved exactly how he knew it’d weaken you. You saw the veins in his hands from the pressure, and wanted them inside you. You wanted them knuckle-deep, pushing in and out and wiggling deep within. His fingers always looked better around your throat or stuffed in your holes. But, he didn’t use his fingers. Not once.
When he finally did enter you, he gasped in surprise. “Oh no,” he said, smoothly gliding in and out of you, “Looks like I forgot a condom.”
Another thing you’d both discussed and cleared on before starting.
“No, don’t do that,” you tried saying through the gag. “Don’t cum in me.”
“Huh? What?” he cupped his ear, starting to rub your clit with his thumb so you mewled loudly. “You want me to cum in you?”
“No! Don't!”
“I bet you do,” he started pumping in and out of you faster, “I bet you love when Hongjoong fills you with cum every night. I’m surprised you’re not pregnant already with all the times he’s creamed your little pie.” He took hold of your thighs and kept them spread further apart. “But, don’t worry. I’ll cum in you,” he sneered, “Maybe I’ll leave you here and call the other members so they can fill up your pussy too. You’ll be so full of it, we’d have to take you to the clinic the next day,” he laughed.
The idea of him taking his own fantasy a step further had your thighs quaking in his grasp. Yunho kept the same steady pace throughout, only stopping when he sensed your orgasm drawing near again. A cocktail of pain and pleasure once again filled your insides, and you realized how much you enjoyed it. You liked mean Yunho. He exhibited a sadistic desire to bring you close to an orgasm, only to deny it to you at the last second. Your disappointed and frustrated whimpers delighted him, usually resulting in him taunting you as he pounded his hips into yours a few times. He meant it when he said he’d be merciless. He proved it when he flipped you onto your front, lifted your head up by your hair, and started pounding your pussy relentlessly. Any plea or cry you gave went unheard underneath the sounds of his skin slapping yours. When the bed banged against the wall, you thought that usual shyness might come out, but it only encouraged him further.
“Please, please, please,” you cried through your gag, tears watering your eyes again. “Please stop. It hurts so much.”
“Shut up,” he growled, tugging your hair and thrusting faster. “Shut up and take my cock.”
“Yunho-”
“I said ‘shut up’, bitch.” He pushed your face into the pillow, the dildo going further into your mouth and silencing you right away. “Fuck toys don’t talk.”
You sobbed into the pillow, your nose poking out enough for you to breathe. Your eyes rolled back right as his tip started pushing your g-spot. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge once more. You thought you’d go insane from the feeling alone. You felt nothing but the desperation growing inside you. The need to meet his hips with yours, the need to be clenching and squeezing him through an orgasm became far too deep. You lost all sense. The only thing you focused on was pretending to squirm out of Yunho’s strong grip.
What pushed you the closest was when Yunho’s moans became breathy and erratic. By his tightened grasp, his feverish thrusts and incoherent streams of curses, you knew he’d finish soon. You clenched him tightly, which made him quicken his pace. Soon, a distinct hot sensation spilled inside you and you almost came with him. Yunho continued going until he pumped every last drop inside you. Quivering, your body tensed up in effort to stay on the edge.
“Tak-Take it,” he groaned, huffing as he squeezed out a few more drops, “It’s the least you can do after…after rejecting me…”
The second he withdrew from you, you weakly scrambled away from him.
“And where do you think you’re going, huh?”
He roughly pulled you back into his grasp. Restricting your arms with one of his, he parted your legs with his knee and started rubbing your sex again. The tips of his fingers rapidly gliding over your clit had you trembling and clutching Yunho’s arms. Your body caved into itself, a burning tightness building the longer he kept you in his grasp. You tried closing your thighs together and moving from his hand, but he only forced them further apart and went faster.
“That’s it,” he said in your ear, still toying with your clit despite the sensitivity settling in, “Cum all over yourself like the pathetic slut you are. Go ahead. Do it.”
You shook your head as if keeping yourself from giving into his demands.
“You know you want to,” he said, stopping to bring your knee further up and then continuing, “You wanted to a little bit ago. Am I not good enough for you to cum for? Huh?”
You put your hands on his wrist, trying to move his hand away but not doing a good job of it. This time, he didn’t do anything else. He only rubbed; his fingers caused his warm cum to mix with your juices, getting the mess everywhere, but you didn’t care. You came in seconds. The blinding climax made every muscle in your body seize up, and you screamed around the dildo in your mouth. You could do nothing but lay there as Yunho teased an orgasm out of you. Being completely at his mercy, tied up and clamped, you laid there and came hard until the very end.
When you finally finished, you desperately chased whatever bit of air you could get through your nose. It wasn’t until Yunho undid the gag that you sucked in more air. Keeping you in his arms, Yunho carefully unbuckled his belt from your wrists and tenderly rubbed them for you. He peppered the side of your face with soft, brief kisses as he gingerly removed the clamps to rub your sore nipples. The two of you laid there in the afterglow of this new experience, content to listen to each other’s breathing gradually steady over time. You stayed still when he started wiping the mess from you with a wet cloth, drying it for you right after. A shower or bath would be for later. Neither of you felt up to it at the moment.
“Did you like it?” he asked in the silence, not having moved an inch away from you. “Was I too rough? Not rough enough? I didn’t want to overdo it with you.”
You shook your head, “I really liked it, actually.”
“You liked it, huh?” he teased, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Even when I hit you?”
“Yes,” your cheeks grew warm from the confession. “I’ve never seen you that way before.” You turned over to face him, remaining in his arms still, “It really turned me on.” Talking made you realize your throat did itch slightly. You’d need some tea to soothe it at least.
“Oh?” he lifted your leg to his waist and put his arm around you, “Maybe I should be mean in bed more often.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” You then asked, “Was I…I don’t know how to say it…Fighting back enough? I didn’t want to make you think I really wasn’t into it, but I know you wanted me to kind of fight back.”
“You were perfect, babe. It was exactly like I imagined,” he insisted, kissing you softly. “Thank you,” he said, moving hair from your face, “For doing this with me. I thought it might scare you or you would see me differently when I asked you.”
“Never,” you assured him, clearing your throat. “I’ll admit I was surprised by it at first, but it was something new for us to explore.” You chuckled again, which bothered your throat, “But I did think you getting so into it was funny at first.”
“I wanted to do it right,” he laughed. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You wouldn’t have,” you coughed. “You wouldn’t have disappointed me. We would’ve just had normal sex or no sex or whatever we both felt like doing.”
“Oh, baby,” Yunho immediately perked up, “Your throat. It must hurt. Is it really bad? I shouldn’t have done it so much.”
“It itches a bit.”
“I’ll make you some tea then,” he peeled himself away from you and sat up. Ruffling his hair, he reached for his boxers on the floor and said, “And an ice pack too?”
“Yes, please.”
You knew once you really started moving around, you’d know which parts of your body will need to be iced. Yunho gently pecked your lips, then left the bedroom. Sinking further into his bed, you felt yourself drifting to sleep. The events you replayed in your head gave you chills. Nobody looking at Yunho would think he enjoyed such a taboo act; though, you’re not bothered by it at all. A part of you wondered if he'd do it again, since Yeosang won’t be home any time soon.
You’d definitely have no objections.
****
A/N: hey hey friends! Sorry this one took so long. Like with all my current wips, I've been having trouble sticking to one and finishing it. I hope this one makes up for it though! I have a Seonghwa one coming up soon too! always like and reblog, it keeps us going <3
#ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez smut#jeong yunho#yunho jeong#ateez yunho#yunho ateez#ateex x reader#ot8 x reader#yunho x reader
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Stay still, Heeseung
warnings- smut, use of vibrater, slight exhibitionism?, needy reader, car sex, cuming inside, use protection, lmk if i missed any
Fidgeting on the couch, you couldn't stay still as your pussy literally pulsed. Hanging out with your friends and boyfriend, you had been waiting for this movie night!
What made it intense was the vibrater situated in your pussy. Pulsing through you, it was on the third highest setting, and you already felt like you were going to burst.
"The movie just started" Heeseung teased, placing his hands on top of yours, smiling at your friends as they saw this seemingly cute exchange, nodding your head you tried to hide the bucking of your hips. You didn't want to upset Heeseung and you certainly didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your friends.
Easing down your hips, you struggled to pay attention to the movie. Something about a man in a red suit who could never die? You couldn't tell from the way your brain fuzzed. Fuck, why did he have to do this today?
Biting your lip to compress a moan, you were glad this movie was action packed, and with the speakers situated in the room. You were blessed with the loudness. Small moans were able to escape your mouth.
Heeseung toying with the remote, he bumped it up to the highest setting, causing your hips to buck up again, begging for any friction. You knew you would have to exit soon...to pleasure yourself. But you knew Heeseung, you knew you would have to wait until home.
"Stay still baby" He whispered in your ear, the hair on your arms stood up from that small constant. God, you were so needy it was pathetic.
"I can't" You whine quietly, turning your face to his. Your scrunched up face, teeth biting hard on your lips, body slightly squirming from the intense pulsing in your cunt. You couldn't hold it much longer.
"Sorry guys I just realised I have dinner with Y/N's family tonight..." Heeseung piped up through a quote spell. Your friends all groaned but let you go, nonetheless. Saying quick goodbyes, you quickly walked out of the house, nearly running.
"Slow down princess I'm right here" He laughed, catching up to you. Unlocking the car, you both climbed into the back seat.
"That was torture" You cry out, ripping out the vibrater, hoping for Heeseung's cock instead.
"Want the real thing baby?" Heeseung cooed above you, placing you easily onto his lap. You nod your head, hands ready to rip off your clothes. In the dark street, no one to see you...and the possibility to, he was needy for you as well. Unzipping his fly, he didn't bother to shed his clothes as he adjusted his cock, allowing it to spring out. Your pussy soaking, you were ready to take him.
"Please" You cry out, his hold on your hips don't allow you to move. Desperate to fuck him, desperate to ride him, desperate for the real thing, you could hardly wait any longer.
Exchanging no words, he eases you onto his cock. Your wetness easily swallows him up.
"Your so wet....so wet" He sighs out, relishing the feeling of your pussy sliding down his shaft. Feeling your cunt reach his base, you lift your body up, slamming down on his length.
"N-need you Hee" You cry out, hips slamming down back onto his. Lips finding his, they dance. Desperate for each other, your lips hold your passion. Fully clothed, this was your only other avenue of pleasure. Breaking apart form the short and heated kiss, a ling of saliva connects you.
"Don't stop" His head falls back onto the headrest. Feeling your wetness cover his cock, feeling you slam down on him, hearing your pussy squelch, hearing how needy you were for him.... He was going to burst any second.
"Want me to make a mess?" Heeseung drawls out a laugh. With the pleasure becoming to much, with him unable to hold out, of course he couldn't stop the small laugh, an escape from the pain of holding his own pleasure back.
"W-wait" You cry, hips desperate rolling, desperate bucking and desperately slamming down on his poor, needy and ready to release cock. Hearing your command, he bites his own lips, forcing his release to hold off.
"Okay now" You call out, a white haze covers your eyes as you feel his warm seed spurt up inside you.
"holy..." Heeseung doesn't finish his sentence, mouth left open as he feels himself cum inside you, your walls still clench around his soft shaft. Turning his head to the side, he admires the now foggy windows...he sure had a good time.
#enhypen smut#enhypen scenarios#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen heeseung smut#heeseung smut#enhypen imagines#enhypen heeseung
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