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#Adjustable Restraint
brother-emperors · 20 days
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Modern au Pompey is so relatable, like yes that is my exact reaction to the glasses
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everyone’s having a normal time about the glasses :)
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creaturefeaster · 5 months
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And what happened to the blonde you were looking for a name for!? (the one with the churro in his hairstyle)
Oh, Wayne I believe is what was decided upon.
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I'm trying to rework his design a little bit, so I don't have a recent doodle of him at the moment.
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bumblingbabooshka · 1 year
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I love how Janeway’s like “Neelix I can’t believe you turned my private dining room into a place to serve food to the crew” .... girl.
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hydrostorm · 2 years
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before i googled it i had NO idea that becketts jyhad diary takes place AFTER bloodlines?? it is so unclear when the events in that book takes place. apparently the entries arent entirely chronological either?
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fairy-angel222 · 3 months
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𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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— warnings: size kink, cervix fucking, belly bulge, creampie/breeding, throat fucking
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𓆩♡𓆪 — Who tie your smaller frame to their bed, their body almost twice the size of yours as they stand over you, their eyes dark with lust at how vulnerable you look.
Who lower themselves onto you as they measure the length of their cock with your body, whistling lowly before looking you in your eyes with a sinister smirk.
“Shit baby, think you can take it?”
Who watch as your eyes widen with a quiver as you tugged at your restraints, only blinking up at them through your lashes with an incoherent mumble, your wet pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation.
No matter how many times you guys did this, you still never got used to how big they were. After all, they were practically a tower next to you, and their dick was nothing short of that size.
“Sorry sweetheart.” they laugh. “forgot you were gagged.”
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who make you watch with teary eyes as their cocks bulge visibly in your stomach. Only halfway in before you’re crying, whining about it being too much. You get so full. Your mewls loud and broken as you moan their name.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Whose cocks still grow when they’re hard, swelling within the warmth of your walls. Who beg for you to take it. Telling you how good you were doing and how happy it would make them if you take them all the way. Take them deep.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who love when you make them bleed, sharp nails scratching down their backs as you try to adjust around them, tearfully wincing at the sting that came with it.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who love to stuff their fingers down your throat while encouraging you to ride them, their hands on your waist as they guide you up and down just the beginning of their length.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Whose thick fingers fill you like a second dick, making you cry out loudly as they pushed against that spongy spot. Cooing at you and telling you to take it as their fingers harshly curl into you. Thrusting mercilessly until you’re squirting all over their hand with a scream.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who fuck you in every position and against every wall or surface.
Their mouths on your clit and tongues lapping up the wetness between your folds with your legs spread on their shoulders, strong hands being the only thing holding you up.
Their feet planted into the floor as they bounced you on their cock. Folding you like a sex doll by holding your bent knees flush against your chest, roughly lifting you off and back onto their cock. Loud sobs filling the room as their mushroom shaped tip pierced painfully past your cervix, your moans high pitched as your cheeks stain with tears.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who always have to be so careful with you, knowing they could easily break you even if they didn’t mean too.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Whose hands are twice the length and width of yours, easily pinning both your wrists above your head when during sex.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Whose big hands easily bruise your delicate skin, your neck always painted purple and blue from him accidentally choking you too hard. Who engulf you with their body in a tight hug to apologize, kissing your head and promising you that they didn’t mean to hurt you.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who groan when you try to suck them off. Your plump lips stretched around their fiery red tip, slobbering down their thick length. Who get off to your struggle, cock twitching with a loud groan when you look up at them innocently. Trying (and failing) to take their cock all the way, your eyes welling with tears when it pushes to the back of your throat.
Who shoot their cum straight into your awaiting mouth. Watching you gag softly as the liquid forces itself down your throat, trickling down the sides of your lips when you smile up at them. Sticking out your tongue to show that you swallowed it all, their thumb running over your bottom lip before letting their spit fall into your awaiting mouth.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who get so carried away by how snug your pussy feels around them. Unknowingly bullying their cocks deeper and deeper. Their brain so foggy that your loud choked cries don’t even register.
Who when riding them, accidentally force you to bottom down. Your salty tears clouding your vision as you sob out that you can’t take it— that they’re so deep and it hurts. That you can feel them fucking past your cervix. Who know that you’re only able to whimper and mewl when the pain turns pleasurable, groans sounding from the back of their throat as their eyes fixed on their tip’s imprint on your belly. Who continue to jerk themselves off with your tight pussy, voice deep and raspy as they praise you for taking it all.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who love when you ask them to be rough with you. Toss you around and slap you when you talk back. Who slam their hips into you with no care, telling you to shut up and take it or they’d leave you empty instead. Who choke you while fucking into you, digging their fingers into your cheeks to shut up your constant cries, scoffing and spitting in your face when your tears begin to fall.
Who bruise your pussy and your neck for days to come, purple and red littering your skin from you being used as nothing but a flesh light. Eventually passing out as orgasm after orgasm was forced from your swollen, aching and sensitive cunt.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who make sure to check up on you afterwards, not letting you sit or walk on your own because they know how sore they left you. Happy when you keep reassuring them that you wanted it, like the fact that they were so rough.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who smirk at the jealous looks you get when he walks hand in hand with you in public, people whispering to each other about the extreme height difference.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who love when you wear their clothes, snuggling into the softness of his hoodies that swallow you whole. The pieces of fabric being sizes too large on your body.
𓆩♡𓆪 — Who love when you melt into their lap, muscular arms around your waist as they kiss down your neck softly. Whispering words of praises into your ear with his hot breath fanning against your skin.
“God i love you so much.” they smile, “My pretty little baby.”
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hazelfoureyes · 3 months
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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)
saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)
Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127
Minors DNI
When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.
The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.
So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.
Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.
But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.
When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.
Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.
You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.
The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.
Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”
He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”
“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.
“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.
Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.
“And?”
“What are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”
You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.
“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.
“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.
You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.
“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.
“Huh? Do what?”
“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”
“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”
"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."
You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."
A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."
Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.
"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.
"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.
"Sir." He chided.
"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."
"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.
A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.
You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.
“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.
He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.
“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.
You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.
As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.
When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.
“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.
“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.
“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.
“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”
“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”
“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”
His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.
“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.
You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.
When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.
“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.
His tongue slowed.
“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.
Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.
So close.
“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.
You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.
Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.
Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.
With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.
You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.
“Yes, sir.”
*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out
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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months
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NSFW
Gojo talks to your pussy like it’s an actual cat. He coos, kissing your clit. “How’s my pretty kitty today? Ready for some lovin’?”
And boy does he give it some lovin’.
He’s an expert with his tongue, lapping at your folds and sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves with a neediness you’d never expect the strongest sorcery to have.
He’s kind of obsessed with your pussy and making you cum. He’ll spend hours between your legs, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and his tongue glued to your clit.
He’ll fist his needy cock, looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes. “Want you so bad, so fucking bad… gotta make you cum one more time… one more time…”
When he finally sinks his cock into you, your sheets are already drenched in your cum.
“Baby, you look tired. The night has only just begun, princess.”
He fucks into you so tenderly, you almost cry. Gojo loves you, that much is apparent in the self restraint he has when his hips meet yours. He always lets you adjust to his size before going faster, even if the two of you have had sex a hundred times.
“Fuck, so good for me princess… my perfect angel…”
He keeps a hand on your tummy, groaning into your ear. “Such a perfect princess… would be an amazing mama, wouldn’t you? Gonna fill you up, get you pregnant…”
He’s intent on breeding you, filling you with his seed and making sure you’re ready plump and happy with a cute baby bump.
When he cums, it’s almost too much. Your tummy feels so full, so warm. He’s likes to keep you plugged up with his cock while you two sleep, whispering words of praise and adoration while he rubs your tummy. “It’ll work this time, I just know it. Can’t wait to be a daddy…”
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sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months
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Zombie! MW2 w/ a Human Sex Slave
Warnings: 18+, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Initial Dubious Consent, Stomach Swelling, Cum Inflation, Unprotected Sex, Brief Worry of Infection, Rough MW2, Gentle MW2, Zombie! MW2, Human! Reader, Sex Slave! Reader, Captive/Captor Relationship, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Descriptions of Smut, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.
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Zombie! MW2 who found you scavenging alone one day out in the wasteland, entirely unaware of their presence.
Zombie! MW2 who capture you soon after, not ones to waste time.
You were the first lone human they’d seen in months, and they’d be damned if they were going to let you slip through their fingers.
Zombie! MW2 whose intentions with you are unclear. Until you notice the bulge in their trousers and the purr in their groans as they watch you writhe against the restraints, watch you helplessly struggle against a fate they’ve already decided for you.
Ghost, König and Soap are the roughest with you, often the ones to just tear a your pants off when they’re desperate, filling you not long after.
They’re rarely gentle, instead opting to take you raw and use you for their own ends, slamming their hips into yours until you hear them release a guttural roar, emptying days’ worth of semen inside you.
Your first time with Ghost almost left you feeling like you were about to burst with how backed-up he was, his balls almost bursting and slapping the skin of your backside red and raw with each thrust.
He’d made sure to leave his mark on you, the prominent bulge in your stomach slowly deflating as his semen leaked out of you.
And while Soap and Ghost’s loads are somewhat palatable given how frequently they use you, König almost always leaves you feeling like you’re about to burst.
Given his height, he’s the biggest of all your captors. Not only that, but his cock is thick enough to leave you feeling like you have rocks in your stomach whenever he forces himself into you, his strokes long and pounding, making sure you feel every inch of him.
Price, Gaz and Alejandro are a lot more gentle, understanding that, while you’re human, you’re still fragile.
They’re soft and slow with their thrusts, giving you time to adjust to their size before continuing.
While they can’t talk, they do try to comfort to as best they can.
They’ll stroke your head, press their forehead to your shoulder (only to feel you tense beneath them, anticipating a bite) — anything to try and make you feel less like you’re a sex slave and more like a friend with benefits.
Of course, you worried the first few times they had their way with you that their pumping you full of their seed would infect you, turn you into one of them.
However, after weeks went by, you were still you. No rotting skin, no cannibalistic thoughts, no loss of autonomy.
But, much to your horror, you felt as if they’d infected you with an idea, a feeling.
That being that you enjoyed what they were doing to you, ravaging you, pumping you full of their load until they were satisfied and your stomach was swelling.
And while your sanity tried to reason your way through your acceptance — that you were being held prisoner by literal parasite-infested corpses — your mind, for better or worse, didn’t care.
Not when they were providing for you, bringing you food, clothes, blankets — things you were certain would be nigh impossible to obtain were you roughing it alone in the wastes.
Or, perhaps you were rationalising your willingness to stay here with them, to live as their human sperm bank, reduced to an existence of bending to the will of militant captors whose semen dripped down your thighs, whose hands forced your face into pillows or made you bounce on their cocks while looking at them, giving you a glimpse into their eyes, the people they once perhaps were: whose surprising stamina and strength left you whining, crying and almost begging for more whenever they finished, more often than not forcing orgasms out of you, too, making you push back into them, body willing to take every ounce of their cum and inch of their cocks.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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markster666 · 3 months
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Hey! I noticed you write smut for everyones favorite deer man. Episode 5 was getting to me with those tentacles! i was wondering if you could write something to do with that when you get the chance? 👀
Yes I do! Your wish is my command. <33
ALASTOR X READER (SMUT/18+) - TENTACLES
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Smut, 18+, Double Penetration, Tentacles, Porn without much plot, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Pet Kink, Sensory Deprivation, CNC, and other stuff lol
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 863
A/N: Thank you so much to @thatdeadstoat for taking the time and effort to put in this prompt request. I'm so happy with all the Alastor lore and screen time lol. Unedited, so apologies for spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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You heard Alastor's microphone cane tapping the ground as he walked down the hallway to your room. You couldn't even see his face but you could FEEL the seething energy rising from him. He didn't even knock as he busted open your door, slamming it roughly behind him and leaning against it.
"I don't know WHY Charlie thought it was a brilliant idea to bring that low life to this hotel. I despise him with a furious passion."
You shrugged very slightly and sat up in your bed, pausing the tv show you were watching.
"It's her father, Alastor. They're blood. At least he's trying."
Alastors ears furrow back as he squints at you.
"I can't believe you're justifying him, my Dear! I taught you so much better than that."
You bit your lip.
"I was just trying to state my opinion-"
You cut yourself off as he purposely made a threatening walk towards you, his eyes filled with a cannibalistic nature.
"Your opinion doesn't matter in this bedroom, my Dear, I'm CERTAIN i've made that clear, no? Do you need a reminder?"
Before you could open your mouth to speak, his tentacles appeared out of thin air, one of them wrapping around your mouth like a gag and the others pinning you to the bed on your stomach, wrapped around your body like a bunch of rope to keep your arms locked to your side. Alastor got on top of you, straddling the small of your back and wrapping a hand around your throat, squeezing gently on the sides. He pulled your hair aggressively up and got close to your ear,
"Not like you had much of a choice anyways, little one. If you're a good pet, I might let you feel some of your own pleasure, but for now, let your Master let off some steam, hm?"
The tentacle around your mouth tightened as you desperately nodded, trying to murmur something to him but instead it comes out as groans.
"What was that, my Dear? I can't hear you."
He was obviously mocking you. His grin grew wider.
"Since you can't keep your opinionated mouth shut, that restraint is not going anywhere. If I hear you try to speak, I will not give you relief. Do I make myself clear?"
You nodded, feeling your core heat up and the wetness starting to spill down your legs.
"Good."
He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before slamming your face into the pillow, ripping down your pants and feeling your pussy through your panties.
"Oh my! I haven't even DONE anything yet, Princess! Maybe you really DO need this!"
He moved your panties to the side and inserted a two fingers into your cunt, not giving you much time to adjust before pumping them out as fast as he could. You instinctively arched your back before moaning out in overstimulation as he pushed your face harder into the pillow, his hand entangled in your hair.
He kept going for a good bit before stopping, slapping your ass once before letting go of your hair. You were panting and whimpering and felt your juices dripping down your thighs onto the bed.
You felt humilated and he felt like a god.
Before you could catch your breath, you instantly felt Alastor press into your pussy all the way to the hilt, filling you up in just the perfect way. His ears furrowed back as he gripped your hips tighter.
"Goooood girl, you take me so well. Now, just be still and let Daddy breed you."
You were a moaning whimpering mess as he started fucking you into the mattress, his tentacles still wrapped around your body and your mouth. He had an animalistic rage inside of him making him grasp at every part of you, trying to fuck you as deep as he could.
And you loved every second of it.
He kept going for awhile before you felt something push against your asshole. You winced and then moaned in pure pleasure as one of his tentacles inserted itself into it, both holes now being used and filled up.
You bit against the tentacle keeping your mouth in place while you were being brutalized by the deer demon. You were moaning so loud you could probably guess everybody was hearing this.
It wasn't long until Alastor was close, his thrusts become more sloppy and his grip on your hips becoming tighter. You felt yourself getting close to.
"Cum for me."
You instantly came at the sound of his voice and he came too, pushing as deep as he could go. You two stayed in that position for awhile, catching your breathes before he took his tentacles out of you and from around you and himself out as well. You tried to stand up to use the restroom to empty his seed out but he stopped you,
"Ah ah, at least give it 10 minutes, Pet."
He gave you a small kiss on the forehead and dressed himself, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"Thanks Alastor... I guess I really did need that."
His grin grew as wide as it could.
"Good girl."
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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eupheme · 22 days
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— into the fire
[series masterlist]
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 1.6k
Tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, rough oral (m rec.), 2 seconds of boot riding, flashbacks, sorta implied mutual pining, threatening with a gun, light degredation, spitting
a/n: please mind the tags! 💕 I heard him say ‘sweetheart’ (derogatory) and I was a goner. (Cooper is referred to as The Ghoul because I felt like he sure as hell wouldn’t have given Reader his name yet.)
“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”
His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”
(Or - when you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)
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Your knees sink dig into the ground, with the downward gesture of his finger.
Eyes tracking the hand that now wraps around his belt buckle, then up to the tongue that traps between parted teeth.
No more than a week ago, he had lasso’d a rope around your throat. Bringing you to the ground - his weight of his hips pinning you solidly against the earth.
“There’s a bounty out for a Vaultie like you.,” The Ghoul had growled, as you bucked uselessly against him. “You know that?”
The days since were spent leashed by his side - almost like a pet, with the way he kept a handle on the rope twined tightly around your wrists.
Making you walk ahead, a sharp tug that sent you stumbling if you wandered too far.
All the while, you still felt that gaze that slipped over you.
Dipping with the zipper that had dragged down, pinched between fumbling fingers. Just wanting to feel the breeze against your skin - luxury you never had in the Vault. It lingered where the sweat beaded, nestled down in the shadow between your breasts.
If he needed permission to want you, you’d give it to him.
“You can use me,” You had told him - desperate, one night. “Whatever you want. Please, I can’t go back.”
“You best think twice about what you’re offerin’, sweetheart.” The Ghoul has rasped. A tilt of his head, as his eyes dragged over you.
You let them, your own eyes wandering as well. Across gaunt eyes and roughened skin, trying to piece together the man beneath.
Picking up on tiny things in the days that followed. Clinking spurs, his accent - akin to old programs they used to show back at your Vault. Hints that he’s been around a long, long time.
The Ghoul was terrifying in a way that thrilled you. You’d never seen someone move like he did, drawing faster than you could blink. A nightmare shrouded in a tattered leather coat, moving like a ghost.
He could rip your throat out with his bare teeth.
But he hadn’t.
You hadn’t had much to bargain with but you begin think even if you had caps - you might have ended up right here anyways.
But he hadn’t made a move to touch you.
Not until today, when your packaged water had run dry.
Until he saw the way you eyed him, envious. Another ten miles of desert road ahead, the sun following you from above and your throat growing drier with each one.
“You want some?” He asked, letting you watch the bead of water that rolled down his chin. “Then I think you know what you need to do, sweetheart.”
He’s collecting on your offer, now.
Adjusting himself, under the shadow of a crumbling building. Your thighs parting as you find your balance, fists pressing into uneven ground. The rope tied around fixed firmly under the heel of his boot, leaving you unable to use them in a manner you’d like. 
The Ghoul’s hat shields his eyes, but he can’t hide the curve of his cock against his pants - the interested twitch, when he frees himself.
“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He clicks his tongue, fingers wrapped around the base, “This was your idea, after all.”
There’s a warmth pooling in your belly, as you shuffle closer. The part of your lips, the peek of your tongue against the tip.
It’s much like the rest of him. Pulled-tight pink skin, roughened and wrinkled divots. Velvety and warm, as you take him into your mouth and suck.
He swells, as your lips wrap around him. As he inches deeper, with the shallow bob of your head. Heavy against your tongue, it’s not long at all before he’s fully hard.
You try to take more, struggling with your limited balance, the full size of him. Teeth scraping against skin, when his hand twists in your hair.
There’s a ragged groan rattling in his throat - then there’s the cool press of a muzzle against your cheek, the low growling drawl of his voice.
“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”
His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”
Your heartbeat thuds beneath your ribs. His message clear - fuck around, use your teeth on him, and you won’t live long enough to find out.
You don’t test him. His grip lingers, until you go loose. Eyes lifting to meet his, letting him guide you.
The tightness in him unknots as well, when you let him into your throat. A low grunt, risking a glance down to see how well you take him - an unconscious buck of his hips into your waiting mouth.
“Not even two weeks out and you’re already sucking cock,” He grits out, “So fucking eager to do it, too. You like ghouls sweetheart? Or just me?”
His voice rips into you, sending your nerves alight. He leaks against your tongue as you trace the rough skin, unable to help groaning.
“Fuck,” The Ghoul growls, “Just mine. Let me hear you say it.”
His grip loosens, pulling himself from you. Spit clinging from the head of his cock to your lips as you swallow. A hand pinching at your chin, forcing your face to stay tipped up to his as you answer.
“Just yours.”
“Good,” He thumbs at your chin until you open again, tongue waiting against your lip. Filling you slowly this time, until he’s nudging against the back of your throat. Tears prick at your eyes, as you try not to gag around him.
The slow saw of his hips picks up. It’s difficult without your hands - messy, with the way he uses you. Though there’s something about it that itches at you, deep inside.
Something that makes the tight Vault Suit feel even more constricting. More than aware of the dampness that pools between your thighs. How the sound of his groans, the tight tug of your hair in his fist makes you clench.
It’s has your thighs pressing together, as he fucks your mouth. A shift of your wrists so you can press the back of your hand against your center - easing some of the ache.
The pull of the rope beneath his boot has his eyes flicking further downwards. A cruel smile, when he sees.
“Getting off on this, sweetheart?”
You whine, and the smile widens.
“Filthy thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, with the shift of his thighs. The other boot knocks against your wrists to move them, before fitting it between your thighs. Nudging against your center, giving you something to grind against.
It’s not enough, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.
It would be too kind, otherwise. And he’s shown that he’s sure as hell not nice.
A tear tracks down your cheek with the steady roll of his hips, your nose brushing hot skin with each thrust.
Your eyes shut - mindless, a soft buzz in your throat as you moan around him. Focused on his breath, how it grows short and panting and ragged.
Until he’s pulling himself from you with a grunt, his fist wrapping around his length.
“Unzip, darlin’.” He growls, as he works himself, “As much as I’d love to fully use that pretty mouth of yours, I ain’t about to share my RadAway.”
It takes you a second to catch the zipper on your Vault Suit, dragging it down. From your sternum to your abdomen - revealing the worn, white cotton of your bra, the inches of smooth skin beneath.
A hand frees from his grip in your hair. Touching you again, yanking at your suit and bra until it bares the tight peaks of your nipples.
“Goddamn,” He growls, “Just look at you. Bet you’re nice and messy beneath that suit.”
Fingers cup the weight, before he’s pinching down. Eliciting a soft moan, as his eyes sweep across your face - soft and half-lidded as you watch him.
“Should’ve just fucked you. Would’ve taken me so well, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” You breathe - imagining it. Bent over one of the broken tables inside. His cock buried in your cunt instead of your mouth.
The moan he makes sounds feral - bitten back between clenched teeth. His other hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you in place as his fist tightens.
“Look at me,” The Ghoul commands, and you do. Meeting his gaze with pupils that are blown wide, watching how pretty and ruined you look as he comes.
His groan is long and low as he spills across your cheek. The next against your lips, then chin. The jerk of his fist working himself empty across your breasts, until you’re marked thoroughly with him.
Smeared sticky against your skin, leaving you empty and aching as he admires his work. A whine when The Ghoul tucks himself away, his hat tipped down low again.
“Oh,” He mocks, “You think I forgot?”
For the briefest moment, you think he means to touch you. To ease your need - or offer something to clean yourself with - but instead he’s pulling the canteen from his bag.
“Open.” He commands, before he’s taking the last remaining pull.
The protest is caught, as his hand grips your cheeks. As your lips part, like he told you to.
His jaw rolls, pooling the water against his tongue. And with the dip of his head - he spits.
This time, you swallow.
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Nothing more was said, after. A cut-up scrap of cloth from his pack, tossed at you. He still clings to your skin, beneath the suit.
But as you start traveling again - as a crop of building rise up along the horizon in the north, that you realize -
You’re pretty certain the path has changed.
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ahh I just finished Fallout! What did you all think?? I loved it, and I can’t see what they do with Cooper’s arc in s2 (and of course everyone’s, I loved Lucy as well!) (And would love to know what you thought about this, as well! I have thoughts on a follow-up if there’s interest!) 💖
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devilmademewriteit · 1 year
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Dark but Just a Game
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pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader
summary: your dad’s associate and friend, joel miller, finally tires of your constant teasing
warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mention of reader having long-ish hair; alcohol consumption & drunkenness; pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); dubcon (intoxication, power imbalance); age gap.
beta reader: @millllenniawrites aka that’s bestfren
word count: 3.7k
no use of y/n in this fic.
Click to read part 2: Pretty When You Cry
Click to read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman
ahhhh this is my first time writing for joel so any and all feedback is super appreciated. i was slightly inspired by the amazing dbf!joel drabbles that @anchoeritic writes (seriously, if you enjoy this fic, go read them). as always, my requests are open !!
THEN,
It started out so innocently.
Your dad often helped Tess and Joel smuggle contraband in and out of the QZ, sometimes by keeping the right people quiet, other times by offering the pair a place to lay low at. You got accustomed to the sight of them passed out on the floor, the glow of the sunrise illuminating only their sleeping faces, or else a murmuring trio of hushed voices in the middle of the night.
Soon, however, you began to notice the way Joel’s eyes seemed to trail on you, often catching his hardened gaze in yours. Still, he rarely spoke to you and when he did, he mostly just grunted a “hullo” or asked if your father was around.
But you suspected that he noticed you.
Especially when your old clothes got too tight, hugging your skin and leaving little to the imagination. You observed his breath hitching the very first time he saw you in a skirt.
So, naturally, you played into it. You started sneaking downstairs in the morning wearing only a t-shirt and your underwear, feigning innocence at the way (you imagined) he tried, hard, not to look at your ass as you sauntered back up to your room.
Sometimes, you bumped into him on the streets of the QZ. You’d loop your arm around his broad bicep, wide-eyed, gazing up at him through your eyelashes and asking why he hadn’t dropped by to say hello recently. Causing him to tense beneath your hands always felt electrifying; the restraint in his grumbled “soon” always felt like a victory.
When it was dark out and he, Tess, and your dad shared a drink together on the dusty-old-living-room-couch, you made sure to lock eyes with him, taking in the danger lurking in them. He’d look away, leaning back casually and adjusting his jeans.
But—it was always innocent.
It was a game you played with yourself; one you weren’t even sure he was in on. Life in the QZ got dull, and there were only so many good-looking men your age that your dad’s work allowed you to see.
Sometimes, when business was good, your old man got his hands on an extra shipment of liquor, inviting all of his favourite bandits in the Zone and throwing a “party” in one of the run-down, less monitored buildings. You did yourself up as best as you knew how to, shared a flask with your friends and flirted with young smugglers.
It was seedy, but it was fun.
Joel was always there, usually asking around for parts or looking to cut deals. Usually, he drank and stayed out of your way.
Once, however, after being extremely irresponsible with your consumption, you found yourself alone with Andy, a young FEDRA guard (working for your side, of course), slurring your words and stumbling on your feet. He was good-looking in a boyish way and handsy to high heavens. You vaguely remembered his insistence on taking you back to his place and the feel of his wet lips against yours. You clearly remembered hearing a gruff, “Get off,”—Joel’s baritone echo taking you both by surprise. Andy’s head swung to find Miller’s looming form in the doorway; he immediately tore his hands from your body and scampered off. You were alone with Joel, his expression a mask of rage and contempt tinged with—could it have been—jealousy?
After that, it was all bits and pieces of blurred images and sounds. Big hands pulled you into strong arms; your feet were lifted from the ground. You retained flashes of drunken faces smiling and jeering at you as you were carried away from the festivities—then it was dilapidated hallways, the jangling of keys fumbling with a lock, and finally, the ceiling above your bed as Joel gently set you down. Even now, you could clearly picture the way his eyes traveled along your exposed skin as he stood, arms crossed, at the edge of the bed.
Sitting up, fixing your drunken, playful eyes to look deeply into his, you slurred, “Got a bit jealous?”
He said nothing. He only held your gaze and crossed his arms, the muscles beneath flexing and relaxing in rhythm with the motion.
“C’mon Joel,” you teased him, “so serious, all the time. I was fine.”
Now that had an effect.
He growled, “one more minute with that asshole…” and shook his head, his words trailing off as he fought the urge to take your bait. “Just go to sleep. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
He turned, heading towards the door. Perhaps the excess liquor made you reckless or Andy’s kisses left you wanting—either way, you needed to push the limits with Joel. You needed him to stay, to turn around and play your game.
“I could thank you now, if you want.”
He stopped in his tracks, his head slowly turning to the side. Your blood burned in your veins, both from the alcohol and from the tension pulsing between you and him in that darkened room. He paused for a moment and it felt like a lifetime—laid on the bed, watching his shoulders move with every breath he took. He flexed a hand, something he often did when he was around you.
Finally, he spoke.
“Go to sleep.”
And with that, he shut off the light and left the room, closing the door behind him.
So, you decided it was probably all in your head. Maybe the looks and the tension and the teasing were just part of a one-sided game you played with yourself. Still, you couldn’t help thinking about the strain in his voice when he ordered you to bed or the anger that went beyond disdain and contempt at the sight of Andy’s hands exploring your body. You regularly reminisced about the events of that night, most often without meaning to. Most often alone, between the hours of one and three AM, sneaking a guilty hand down between your thighs.
That was the last time Joel had interacted with you.
At least before tonight.
NOW,
Joel stands between Tess and a seedy looking short guy you’ve never seen before, clearly not paying attention to whatever the two of them are hashing out. Tensions are low, which makes Joel look comically out of place. He lifts a silver flask to his lips.
The chatter of people talking and laughing fills the narrow, dusty space—from somewhere down the hall, you hear your father’s booming laugh. You’re finding it increasingly hard to concentrate on whatever your peers are gushing on about. The warmth in your stomach and the buzz under your skin from whatever liquor finds its way into your cup brings you back to the last time you’d seen Joel at one of these get-togethers.
“Can’t believe Miller comes to these things,” one such peer—a bandit in training, your good friend Emma—remarks. “Weird seeing him… well, not relaxed but… not stressed.”
You laugh. “I know, right. When he’s passed out, I don’t even recognize him. Looks completely different without his signature scowl.”
She turns away from him, focusing her attention instead on you. “Right,” she says, “I forgot him and your dad…” She trails off, her expression changing as her interests do, as well.
Emma suddenly smirks at you. “Does he sleep naked?” she asks, mischievous. This piques the interest of the others paying attention to your conversation, who subsequently tune in to hear your answer.
You smile, shaking your head. “No,” you respond, keeping your voice low. “Fully clothed—with his gun in hand.”
Emma’s eyes settle back on Joel as her smile fades. The other delinquents go back to their respective conversations. “Such a shame,” she says, wistfully. “I’d bet a month’s rations that his dick is huge.”
You giggle at that and she passes you the flask. You take a big swig, heat blooming across your tongue as the whiskey burns down your throat.
He catches you staring—his eyes darken when he notices the drink in your hand. Smiling innocuously at him, you wave your fingers in an extremely girlish greeting gesture. He raises his thick eyebrows, unimpressed.
A familiar figure interrupts your silent conversation.
“Hey,” Andy says, his voice unsure and subdued.
“Hey.”
He looks rumpled and flushed, as though recent weeks had not been kind to him. Andy’s not-brown-not-blonde hair hangs limp around his crown, mirroring the defeated air his stature gives off. Despite the near foot he has on you, he seems ironically small.
He runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Look,” he tries, awkwardly stuffing his fingers in his pockets, “I’m sorry about last time. I was really drunk and I don’t really remember what I said, but I know it wasn’t cool.”
You scoff. “I don’t really think it was so much what you said, Andy,” you respond playfully. After all, you know he meant no harm. Drunk people get horny, and you had both been very drunk. “Don’t worry about it. No hard feelings,” you add.
That’s when, from over Andy’s shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Joel’s expression. Pure disapproval. Cold, ruthless contempt burns in his eyes.
“At least not from me.”
Andy turns around slowly, following your eye-line. By the time he clues in to who you’re referring to, Joel’s already looked away, turning his attention to the still-ongoing conversation between Tess and the stranger.
“Right,” Andy says, wincing. “He’s been giving me a hard time on the streets.”
“Don’t sweat over Miller,” Emma interjects casually. “He gives everyone a hard time.”
Once again, you find yourself distracted from the conversation, focussing on a different man in the room. Why should he get to decide when you get to be wild? What business does he have protecting you from other guys? After all, Joel Miller is not your father.
It frustrates you that he keeps pretending not to notice your stare. It frustrates you that he keeps his head ducked, feigning interest in the deal being made beside him. Taking in his size, the salt-and-pepper of his hair, and the fierce angle of his jaw, you steal another swig from the flask, wiping the excess off your lips.
It emboldens you.
Leaning up on your tippy-toes, you muster up your most sensual tone, whispering softly in Andy’s ear: “Let me make it up to you.”
You pull back to catch his look of disbelief, his pouty pink lips parting slightly as he struggles to locate his words. Grabbing his hand in yours, you nod your head to the right, wordlessly encouraging him to take you down the hall. He obeys without a sound.
You quickly shove the flask back into Emma’s hand.
“Save some for after,” you plead, and she shakes her head, tossing you an exaggerated eye-roll.
You lock eyes with Joel momentarily before you’re pulled down the hall, satisfaction leaking from your gaze—you’re not quite sure why. You break away, ignoring the non-verbal warning in his stare.
Who cares what he thinks, anyways?
You wind up in a run-down, dim-lit room, empty save for an old desk. Andy pins you against the wall as soon as the door creaks to a close behind you, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy, tipsy kiss. His hands travel south to grab your ass and you respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. Things heat up—his clumsy fingers brush the fabric over your breasts and you dig your hip into the bulge beneath his denim.
It’s not that you want Andy. Frankly? It could be anyone. None of the boys you hang out with really interest you beyond being potential partners for youthful experimentation—which is exactly what Andy is to you. In all likelihood, that’s not what you are to him.
Oh well. Those are morning thoughts.
Andy’s hands snake under your shirt, the pads of his fingertips creeping up to your breasts.
The door slams open.
Andy basically leaps off of you, a horrified expression settling on his features as he registers the identity of the intruder—as history repeats itself.
“Out,” Joel orders through gritted teeth, holding the door open for the boy to walk through. Andy practically sprints free—without risking a goodbye, without uttering a “sir, yes sir.”
You sigh once you and Joel are alone, adjusting your clothing and casually leaning back against the wall.
“Okay, Joel,” you say, exasperation coating your words. “What’s this all about.”
Wordlessly, he closes the door and locks the handle. His movements are slow, precise, and calculated—butterflies erupt in your stomach.
He approaches you, leaning one hand against the wall behind your head and using a pair of thick, callused fingers to tilt your head up. He smells like sandalwood and hard liquor; he smells like a man. Electricity crackles throughout your entire being.
The touch of his hand on your face drains every last drop of your boldness.
“I think,” he grumbles out, his voice low, gravelly, dangerous, “You know exactly what this is about.”
You swallow, focussing all your energy on holding his severe gaze. Between your thighs, your nerves begin to pulse, responding to his proximity with enthusiasm.
“No, I really don’t,” you respond, mustering up some confidence from god-knows-where to render your tone convincing.
He scowls. “S’lil’ game you’re playin’,” he mutters softly, coolly. “Comin’ downstairs half-naked, clingin’ onto me in public when you know I can’t do anything…”
He shakes his head, his grip on your jaw tensing slightly.
This time, when he speaks, his tone is hoarse. “What are you tryin’ to get out of it?”
A smile creeps onto your face at the anguish in his voice.
So you hadn’t imagined it. Joel had been in on it from the start.
You look up at him with big, sultry eyes, taunting him. There’s no point in avoiding the truth anymore—you want joel. And you’ve never really been the type to not go for what you want.
In this moment, you’re willing to risk anything to have Joel do something, anything to you.
Wicked innocence drips off your every word as you purr, “Whatever you’ve been dying to give me, Joel.”
You watch your answer take effect. A vein in his jaw twitches—lust floods his eyes.
In a flash, you’re facing the wall with both hands pinned above your head by one much larger, much stronger hand. Joel’s weight presses against you, pinning you in place.
“That right, angel?” Joel challenges under his breath as his other hand explores your chest, grabbing roughly at your breasts. “Want me to show you what I’ve had in mind?”
His hand travels towards your underwear, sliding down your front in a tantalizing motion; you moan before his fingers even brush your most sensitive spot.
“I do, Joel,” you moan, desperate for his touch. The feel of his chest against your spine is intoxicating, your mind goes blank at the sensation of his cock pressed against your ass.
Joel’s index and middle fingers find your clit, rubbing torturous circles around the throbbing bud. His thumb presses into your skin, anchoring his hand in place.
“So fuckin’ wet,” he groans. “Wonder what your dad’d say if he knew his lil’ girl was soakin’ wet for this cock.”
He slips a finger inside you, curling it up, making your mouth gape open in a silent ah and your eyebrows crease together. “You think of me when you’re touchin’ this pretty pussy?” Gasping and struggling against his hold, you nod enthusiastically, overwhelmed by the feel of him inside you.
“Please,” you whisper, wanting more, more, more.
“Manners,” he growls, tightening his grasp on your wrists. “Please, Joel,” he corrects, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, his palm flattened and working against your swollen clit.
“Please-please, Joel,” you gasp out, throwing your head back against the crook of his shoulder. He leans forward, laying a soft kiss in the delicate nook of your neck. Then, he’s releasing you, pulling his fingers out and taking a step back.
He gestures to the desk.
“Facedown, sweetheart.”
You obey, stumbling over to it and laying your chest against the cold wood. It stings and you shiver.
Joel fumbles with his belt and then he’s behind you, unzipping his fly and pulling his length out. With your cheek laid against the desk, you get a perfect view of him towering over you, a dark God, holding his cock in his hand.
Emma had been right.
“You gotta be quiet,” he warns, before flipping up your skirt. He groans at the sight of your ass, roughly grabbing one cheek and squeezing it—hard.
“I will be,” you whine, desperate to take him in.
He chuckles, pulling down your dripping panties, letting them fall to your ankles. His tip runs between your folds, teasing your clit in tormenting strokes. You whine and moan, “Joel-s’good,” responding to every brush of his tip.
“You’re needy,” he says, gruffly.
He pushes his cock deep into your cunt, settling every inch of himself inside you.
“I like needy.”
You gasp at the sting and the pleasure and the fullness, unable to control yourself. Joel is huge—your walls wrap tightly around him as he pulls out near-completely before snapping his hips against your ass, filling you up to the brim again. You cry out as he holds your arms in place, setting a rhythm, grabbing you just as roughly as he fucks you.
“Joel,” you moan loudly before a large hand slaps over your lips.
“Shut up,” he growls.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you give yourself to him entirely, cravenly grinding against his hips.
“Look at you, fuckin’ yourself on my cock,” he taunts. “Takin’ it so good, pretty girl.”
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes through the room, dirty and filthy and hot.
Joel’s fingers muffle your moans of abandonment, every “fuck,” “yes,” and “thank you,” coming out simply as “mmm.”
“This what you fuckin’ wanted?” he asks gruffly, leaning a hand next to your head and bending forward to loom over you. “Gettin’ fucked by a man twice your age?”
The angle allows him to push even more of his length inside you, causing you to squirm pathetically against his hips. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he adds, “That right, pretty girl?”
You nod eagerly, your eyes growing heavy, filling with abandon.
He looses a hollow laugh. “Needy lil’ thing,” he breathes, tangling his fingers in your hair. “With a needy lil’ pussy.”
Freeing your mouth, he throws his head back, straightening out and bringing both hands to your circle your waist. Now, he fucks you fast and brutally, his breath coming heavy and hard. With every stroke, Joel’s tip grazes your inner most sensitive spot, causing sheer ecstasy to radiate throughout your core.
“Come inside me, Joel,” you beg. “Come in me—please.”
Joel groans sinfully. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”
Fluttering waves ripple from your cunt down your legs, threatening to take you over the edge.
“Joel,” you half-sob, “I’m gonna-”
He slows down, thrusting into you in great, harsh strokes, well-versed in the art of bringing a woman to climax. You cry out as your orgasm tears through you, unable to form words or thoughts or anything beyond “Joel,” “Ohmygod,” and “yes-yes-yes.”
“S’it baby,” he coaxes. “Come aaalll over my cock.”
Your walls clench around him, your pussy just as desperate as you are to keep him tucked inside you.
He exhales shakily, grabbing fistfuls of your ass in his hands.
“Fuck it,” he groans, thrusting faster inside you. “M’gonna fill you up.” Your eyes are still rolled to the back of your head, your hands desperately searching for something to grasp onto. His cock swells inside you, tensing up between your walls as his seed spills out between them—he comes with an “oh fuck” and a final, brutal stroke.
You lie still for a moment, listening to the sound of your ragged breathing harmonizing with Joel’s. He runs a massive hand along your arm, his touch suddenly delicate, revering.
“You’d better fuckin’ pray I can find the pill for you tomorrow,” he says finally, his husky voice both amazed and amused.
Lifting your chest off the table, you slowly flip around, perching on the edge to face him as he reorganizes his clothes, pulling his boxers up and tugging at his fly. He looks so handsome between your knees, with his hair slightly disheveled and his shirt all rumpled.
“Get extra,” you coo, your breath still uneven, your thoughts still bungled. You run a slight hand devotedly down his plaid shirt, marvelling at the pleasure the proximity brings you.
He laughs low, shaking his head. “S’was a one-time deal, angel,” he says with a smile. He finishes doing up his belt and leans both his hands on the table, his nose just centimeters away from your own. “Can’t be caught fuckin’ my associates’ daughters—bad for business,” he adds, pulling your underwear back up your thighs. You adjust yourself and pout at him, playfully.
“You didn’t like it?” you ask, pretend-innocence soaking your tone.
He smiles softly. “I liked it too much,” he responds. “S’why it can’t happen again.”
You raise your eyebrows defiantly. “Well, I’m not gonna make it easy on you, Miller.”
He slowly straightens up, offering you a hand as you scoot off the desk. Your legs feel shaky, but his hold anchors you in place.
“M’countin’ on that.”
With that said, he gestures for you to leave the room, following closely behind you. He opens the door and you peer into the hallway, making note of its emptiness before stepping out. Joel exits soon after, taking off in the opposite direction. You catch him looking back at you, a dazed, hungry look still lingering on his expression.
It makes you smile.
Later that night, you find Emma and Joel finds Tess. You’re back to your side of the divide and he’s back to his.
It’s as though nothing ever happened.
“Hey, check it out,” Emma remarks. “Miller actually looks, like, chilled-out,” she slurs loudly.
You smile knowingly, nodding in agreement.
“‘Guess he found a way to blow off steam.”
She gives you a quick, faded nod before becoming absorbed in something else. It doesn’t bother you. You’re also absorbed in something else: lost in thought, consumed by the lingering echoes and traces of Joel’s skin on yours.
When you catch his eye from across the room, you can tell that his thoughts are haunted by the very same thing.
This was no longer an innocent game.
It was a dirty secret.
Read part 2: Pretty When You Cry
Read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman (Let Me Hold You Like a Baby)
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museandwords · 1 month
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we don't gotta be in love (bucky barnes)
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Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, dubcon (reader is a bartering chip), arranged marriage, blood, implied age difference, virginity loss, wedding night, rough sex, Bucky is an animal, reader is Tony Stark’s daughter, alludes to Bucky beings powerful man of ambiguous design, alternate universe, breeding kink, big dick kink, Bucky is in love with her but she hates him, it’s not a fairy tale, it’s primal and it’s kind of messy.
Author’s note: this is just….pure filth, send me to jail, don’t tell my therapist.
continuation is right here
MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY
You, sweet, angelic, siren-like you. All wrapped up in a delicate lacy bra, a white ribbon in your hair, and your legs spread wide enough for Bucky to slot in between them.
Your glistening pussy was on full-display, tight and pink and soaked. Virginal and leaking slick as you lay there. You’re nervous, though you keep a brave face on as you present.
Your fiery eyes look up to meet his. You’re nervous and you’re scared. He's so big. His thick shaft dwarfs your folds as he rubs it along your seam.
You squirm, not sure what else to do. "Bucky…It's too big, it's not going to fit…" You whine at your new husband softly.
Bucky's gaze lingers on your delicate form, taking in the sight of his precious little Omega before him. He teases the tip of his thick member along your slick folds again and again, reveling in the way you quiver at the contact.
Your innocence and vulnerability only serve to stoke the primal desire within him. His intense blue eyes darken with hunger, your sweet scent of arousal enveloping him.
His large hand grips your chin firmly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze with eyes filled with determination.
"Shh, princess. Trust me," he growls softly, his voice a gravelly reassurance as his other hand snakes between your thighs, spreading your lips further to accommodate his size.
"You can take it, baby girl. You were made for me," he murmurs, the authoritative tone in his voice leaving no room for argument as he lines himself up with your entrance.
With a swift thrust, he enters you, the stretch causing you to gasp and tense against him. Bucky's restraint slips slightly at the sensation of your tight warmth surrounding him, but he reigns himself in, not wanting to overwhelm you. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size, his own need for you almost unbearable.
"See, you can take it," He reassures you, his hand moving up to cup your cheek tenderly as he begins to move, setting a steady pace that promises to fill you completely. He watches your reactions closely, his own control a thin veneer over his desire to claim you completely.
And just like that, Bucky made you his.
You should be afraid of this Alpha, this beast of a man who claims your virginity like he's entitled to it.
You want to hate him.
But how can you?
Your whole world is zoned in completely to where he's breaching you. He's so thick, his length seems to never end, and your back arches as you’re forced to take all of him.
It's like you can feel him in your stomach. You let out a high pitched whimper, and your thighs tighten around his waist.
As your eyes screw shut and you grip on his bicep for purchase.
Your virgin blood coats Bucky's cock, and it stains the white veil you still had on as he begins to fuck into you with a steady pace.
"I—…Bucky, I can't breathe…." You gasp, so genuine, soft and whimpery.
With your desperate plea for air, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and desire, Bucky's eyes bore into you, a glint of possessiveness shining through.
"You belong to me now, little wife," He growled, his voice husky and commanding, a mix of roughness and control.
Feeling your innocence and resistance only fueled Bucky's primal desires. He relished in the challenge, the conquest of your body like a prize waiting to be won.
As Bucky's relentless thrusting claimed you, your gasps, so pure and vulnerable, only served to fuel his aggression.
Bucky's grip tightened, his strength overpowering as he took what he wanted, his hips moving with a fierce determination. The room was consumed by the intoxicating scent of your arousal, mixing and mingling as your bodies became one.
Your eyes are screwed shut as you’re forced to take all of it again and again, the feeling of being so full is an adjustment, you hated how quickly you were coming to relish in it.
His arms come up to hook beneath the crease of your thighs and he begins to fold your body into a more submissive position. Your body curls and your eyes fly open, your glassy gaze meeting stormy blue as you can't help but let out a whiney moan from the sensation. The sight of you, vulnerable and yielding, stirs something within him, a hellish urge to devour, claim, push you to your limits as he delves deeper inside your velvety warmth.
You’re quick to realize whether you like it or not; you belong to him, for better or for worse. You go from a Stark girl to a Barnes wife. Tony Stark gave you to this beast of a man. And he takes it. Bucky takes all you have and consumes you.
Like an animal fucking for purpose rather than pleasure.
Your hand flies to the creaking mattress as you grip the sheets, your breasts bounce with each thrust and you begin to let out harsh pants that match each thrust in.
"Bucky…" You whine through gritted teeth as the pain begins to subside and the friction from the drag of his cock inside begins to feel good.
Bucky growls low in his throat as he moves within your eager, wet heat. The sound of your mingled pleasure filling the dimly lit room. His powerful thrusts are relentless. The scent of your arousal, sweet and heady, fills the space around you, driving Bucky wild with desire.
You want to hate this man. You want to hate him with all that you are because you were forced to marry him, to be his wife.
But the way he fucks into you has you confused, your brain more focused on how this Alpha takes your body so well, so dominantly and rough that it makes your pussy throb and your heart swell. It’s so ridiculous, so fucked up in your mind you can’t seem to bridge the gap.
With one particular thrust, Bucky's tip kisses your cervix, and you let out an involuntary scream from the sensation. Your manicured nails dig into the sheets, nearly shredding them as he picks up the intensity and drills harder into you.
You take it, you moan and you whine and you whimper and your tight warmth sucks his cock in, hungry for it now that you have it.
You’re overwhelmed from all the sensations, the way he's biting and sucking and licking your flesh, the way his pubic bone grinds against your clit and the way his cock stuffs you so perfectly that he rubs against your g-spot and cervix every time.
Tears begin to form in your eyes, a sign of your increased pleasure as your mouth falls open, Bucky forcing moans from your lips with each thrust in.
You know the purpose of this, you know what his instincts are telling him to do.
Reproduce. Claim. Mate.
"You're…trying….to get me pregnant…." You gasp out in realization as Bucky's hips slam into yours. You mewl, your body blossoming for him as he continues to drill into your tight wet heat.
Feeling you tighten around him, reacting to his every thrust, sent a dark thrill through him. It was as if something wild and feral prowled just beneath the surface of his skin, urging him to give in to his most basic alpha instincts.
He didn't speak, but his actions painted his intentions vividly.
You should fight, you should kick and punch and try to get this man off of you because you do not want his babies.
But your primal, baser brain won't allow you.
Because it's thriving off the Alpha presence, the possibility of pleasing your mate is more important.
The knot at the base of his cock began to swell, a signal of his impending release. As Bucky pushes his knot inside, your whole body tenses, and you begin to tremble as your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him. With a guttural growl, Bucky's body tensed, his hips stilling as he spilled his essence deep inside of you, each pulse of his release a sick twisted mark of ownership. You could feel the warmth spreading within you.
You let out a muted scream, and suddenly you’re shattering all over his cock.
Slick pools as you reach your climax, your walls constricting rhythmically around him as you grind your hips down — and involuntary action of pleasure as you ride it out. You can feel Bucky twitching inside of you, the swell of his knot keeping you locked together to ensure that they are in optimal condition to conceive, his need to give you a baby overriding any other thought in his mind.
You pant, your body is sweaty and weak as you finally begin to come down to earth.
You look at your Alpha, glowing eyes in the dark of night as you try to read him.
"Are you all calm now?" You ask, in a bratty tone.
Looking down at you, Bucky observed you with a mixture of possessiveness and satisfaction. He likes the challenge in your gaze.
Despite your bratty demeanor, Bucky found himself oddly pleased by your feistiness, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, my little wife, all calm now," Bucky drawled, his gravelly voice tinged with satisfaction.
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k1ngpin42 · 2 months
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You two aren’t dating but she thinks you’re hers.
Note: The fics pretty long so I'll have the smut in bold as per usual. I also take requests. Enjoyy
Warnings: Fingering & fisting, dominant Abby, cunnilingus, thigh riding, rough, restraints, scissoring, possessive Abby, hickeys 
You’ve been best friends with Abby as long as you can remember. Her dad loves you, you go on all assignments together and she trusts you more than anyone. 
As you’ve grown older, in turn you have also gotten considerably prettier, stronger, and others have definitely noticed. Men and women alike have been flirting with you during and after assignments. Most attempts at courting you were unsuccessful though. Ever heard the term ‘if a look could kill?’ Well if anyone sent so much as a smile in your direction, she would return their affections with a look so intense they might as well be dead.
It had been a few days since you had been assigned somewhere with Abby. You knew she loved doing the more strenuous stuff with Manny, so you had been partnered with a nice man named Ryan for most of your recent missions. He had been helping you adjust to long shipment assignments and high risk activities such as defending areas rich in supplies, but a lot of the time Ryans patrol were assigned to what WLFS call “ghost missions,” (scanning large perimeters of land for trespassers, even when 9 days out of 10, the only people trespassing were infected stragglers.)
The two of you were closer than the other’s in his patrol group, likely because most patrols were so fucking boring and you two needed a way to pass the time. It was becoming clear he had certain affection growing towards you, and after being so…distracted by Abby all these years, you decided the attention was nice.
You made your way to the dining hall for breakfast. You never ate anything that early in the morning as a result of your night-person-only demeanour, however you enjoyed sitting at the table with a hot cup of coffee and listening to the white noise of people eating and chatting before going out into the cruelty of Seattle. The dining hall felt like a sort of safe haven for you in the mornings, a time when there weren’t so many people as to make you feel overwhelmed but just enough to convince you that you weren’t entirely alone. 
You were surprised to see Abby and Manny getting trays of food and chatting in the line. Your face involuntary flushed when they approached. It wasn’t noticeable, but you felt the heat under your skin. 
“Manny!” You exclaim, happily. You two had always been platonic soulmates. His irritating puns and smooth way of talking was refreshing in a place with so many serious people. You supposed that’s why you liked Abby too. Aside, of course, from her arms that could, and you would happily let, crush you with ease. 
“Hey Abs.” You say, more quietly and with less excitement. She smiles widely at you.
“It’s good to see you again, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!” She remarks, sitting across from you. Manny sits next to her.
“So what’s new?” Manny asks, and before you can answer Abby looks at your empty tray with mild concern.
“You’re not eating?” She asks. You’re taken by surprise a little and take a beat before answering.
“Just coffee.” You reply, still feeling more nervous than you should. 
“You should eat before assignments.” She instructs. 
“I’ll be fine.”
You notice a reaction of either disgust, irritation, or both appear on Abby’s face and you turn around to see what it could be. You smile when you notice Ryan approaching.
“Ryan! Good morning!” You say. Abby rolls her eyes.
“A lot of excitement for 9 in the morning.” She mumbles to Manny.
“Hey!” He speaks with excitement, pulling out the bench slightly and sitting beside you. Abby practically groans.
“Oh, I’m sorry, was someone sitting there?” He asks politely. Abby grunts.
“Well…no, but-“
“No one’s sitting there.” You reassure him, looking deeply into his eyes as he gets comfortable in his chair.
“I got you some of those packaged cornflakes you love to snack on. I knew you wouldn’t be hungry enough for breakfast but the sugar should you give you enough energy for the day.” He explains, passing you a packet. 
“What a gentlemen.” Manny claims with amusement. Abby’s face now depicted an expression that the word “annoyed” wouldn’t even justify. 
“She doesn’t eat breakfast.” Abby speaks, almost like a warning. You just smile softly at her, then back at him.
“No, no it’s very sweet, I’ll have some.” You say, peeling off the packaging and taking a small handful of some. 
“You’ll need the energy, we’ve got another one of those long cargo shipments ahead of us. It’ll finally just be us today.” He says, pushing a spoonful of some sort of porridge into his mouth from the bowl in front of him. 
“Isaac’s trusting us to be alone together?” You ask with delight. He nods his head and Abby gives another appalled look.
“Why wouldn’t you be? Can you two not focus together or what?”
You look at her, confused at where this attitude is coming from. 
“Aha…no, it’s just we usually go in a four person patrol, I guess he trusts us more now.”
“Or he just doesn’t want to waste too many men for such long periods of time-“ Ryan tries to say before getting interrupted.
“Actually-“ Abby begins abruptly in a way that seemed to startle even herself. Everyone turns to look at her and she doesn’t let this intimidate her, too deep in it now to stop talking.
“I came to tell you that you’re with me today. Manny’s swapping with Ryan.”
“I’m sorry, what??” Manny starts. Abby gives Manny a pleading look. He sighs.
“It’s true.” He agrees through gritted teeth.
“Oh…” Ryan murmured. You put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s no problem, Manny’s a great ally to have for shit like this.” You offer, now rubbing his arm gently. He nods.
“I was hoping to spend more time with you.”
“Well we don’t need patrol for that.” You say, somewhat flirtatiously. His whole attitude seems to shift and if auras were visible, his would be golden right now.
“Then, do you want to hang out when you’re back?” Once again, your chance to respond is taken from you.
“That’ll be impossible, it will probably be night time by the time we’re back.” Abby explains. His smirk widens, still making eye contact with you.
“Even better.” 
This is Abby’s final straw and she gets up and grabs your wrist which appears to vanish completely under Abby’s large fist.
“She’ll think about it.” She says, guiding you away. You look at her, not annoyed, just confused.
“Abigail…” You start, softly. She doesn’t say anything, she seems too angry with life to process words right now.
“I mean no offence by this question, but Abs, are you okay?” She doesn’t respond for a while, still guiding you to the wagons. She sighs before answering.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asks, as if the question were aimed towards herself, rather than you.
You shrug. “Must have been my imagination.” She doesn’t say anything and just lifts you up onto the wagon. There are two other men there and Abby tells them you’re ready, the wagon leaving swiftly at her command. 
“So what was with the swap?” You ask. She seem’s happier now, or at least less tense. She lets out a deep breath. 
“I missed you.” She replies, nonchalantly. You feel your heart do things that can’t be healthy inside your chest at these words. You nod, trying to keep your composure. 
“Cool.” You say, finally allowing yourself the courage to look her into her eyes again. 
When you reach a block in the road, you both get out decide to look for alternate ways across. There’s some debris blocking the road that appears almost impossible to clear from this side. You also notice that there are some buildings you could potentially cut through. You walk up to one and a runner runs out at you. You desperately pull it away from your neck, stabbing it with your pocket knife. 
Abby runs in at the commotion and see’s the dead runner on the floor. 
“Are you bit?” She breathes out, her face consumed with panic. You laugh.
“No.” You say, giving her a comforting smile. “Of course not.” 
“Let’s keep mo-“ you start. Abby pulls you in without the faintest of warnings, hugging you tightly.
While blushing ferociously at the feel of her large body against yours, the refinement of the muscles on her arms, the feeling of her chest against yours, you manage a strained.
“I’m alright.”
She doesn’t let you go at this. Instead, she snakes her arms around your body, moving her arms down to your hips. You feel the lower part of your body quiver and you quickly press your legs together, some part of you believing she could know the things you thought about her somehow. 
“What are-“ She moves her hands to your ass, then hips, then she runs them back up again. 
“I missed you.” She breathed out. You break away from the hug and look at her directly in the eyes.
You search desperately for any indication of deception. This has to be some kind of prank. If Abby liked you back you would know, wouldn’t you? 
The thought occurs to you that she didn’t know you liked her, so why couldn’t the same thing apply?
No. There was no way. Abby was straight, probably…
“Abby?” You question. She eyes you slowly. 
“Mm…” She hums, clearly in her own world. 
“Why…” You pause, and it feels like that girl has taken every breath from your body body before you can take it.
“Why did…you want me to come with you today?” You feel the heat of the air from both your mouths. You’re so fucking close to each other, it would take almost nothing to- no. Focus, you keep telling yourself. 
“You’re a good shot, good company too, I missed it.” She declares, matter-of-factly. You nod and she puts a large hand on your face.
“Or maybe I didn’t want you doing assignments with that boy toy.” You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way her hand is making you feel.
“And how is Ryan a boy toy?” You ask, stammering a little.
“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She demands, and her tone startles you. Her eyes soften when she notices your reaction.
“He clearly wants to sleep with you, I’m just looking out for you cause I mean, men like that they only want one thing, you know?” She asks softly. You give her a provocative look.
“What if I only want one thing from him too?” You watch as Abby’s eyebrows furrow and that same look of disgust splashes over her.
“You CAN’T be serious.” She spits, removing her hand and stepping away from you.
“What’s wrong with that? It’s not like anyone else wants me-“
“I-“ Abby practically yells, her words trailing off.
“He’s not good for you. He wouldn’t know…how to treat you.” You sigh.
“Well, I need to sleep with someone.” You admit “Why does it bother you?”
“Because, you belong to me.” She says quietly, looking down at the ground. You’re stunned at her words.
“What? I…don’t belong to anyone-“
—————————————————————————————
✨Smut✨
“Can I kiss you?” She asks, the question sounding more like an order. 
You don’t allow yourself to consider anything else before grabbing her face and mashing you lips against hers. 
Still stunned by the situation, you feel her lips part obediently against yours and you gain the chance to suck on her tongue, tasting the inside of her mouth as the kisses became deeper, more intense. 
Your head is racing, but you ignore the scrambled thoughts, letting yourself moan slightly into the kiss, feeling her hands tracing your shirt.
“Please.” She says quietly. You don’t know what’s happening, she’s never treated you like this, never wanted you. You’ve heard her say please maybe once- actually, you’re not sure you’ve heard her say that at all, but now here she was, practically begging to see more of you. 
It’s Abby fucking Anderson after all, so despite logic dictating that the reasonable decision would be to talk things out and see if her feelings are genuine, you comply without even taking a breath, practically tearing your shirt off for her. 
She practically stares at your chest, mesmerised by the way they sit perfectly in your well fitted bra, deep blue and black lace. Once she manages to close her jaw, she gapes, “you wear this on all your patrols?” You shake your head.
“All my others were in the wash…” you stammer. She says nothing, grabbing you forcefully and putting her lips on your neck. 
You moan involuntarily, knowing your neck is your sweet spot and now, she knows it too. Instead of just kissing it now, she sucks harshly at your skin like you’re a goddamn lollipop, running her tongue over different areas as she went.
“Take yours off too.” You say, feeling heat grow between your legs at even her simplest of  actions. Her smirk makes you go feral. 
“Already desperate for me, hm?” She asks. The back of your neck is hot and you feel your stomach doing summersaults.
Deciding actions speak louder than words, you lift her shirt off her shoulders and you could melt right fucking there. In all her glory, a perfect chest covered by a pale coloured bra. A stunning set of Abs with a light shine of sweat from the travel and heat and you can see her arms fully now, and they were just as you had imagined, if not better.
“Fuck, Abs, you’re so-“ You whimper when she bites down unexpectedly at your neck before moving her mouth away. Then, she kisses your stomach, all the while moving her fingers down into your underwear.
“Take this shit off.” She instructs, motioning at your jeans by pulling aggressively at the fabric. You sigh at how obedient you’ve become, kicking your shoes off, then lowering your pants to the floor. 
“Good girl.” Abby grinned, putting her whole hand in your underwear with no warning.
“Mm…” A high pitched moan escapes your lips in anticipation, it’s quiet, but in the small room Abby could hear the sweet chorus of your moans in her ear, making her speed up her pace. 
She found your clit immediately, using two of her wide fingers to draw painfully slow circles across where you were most sensitive. 
“A…Abby” You shut your eyes tight as she feels you, fucking with all of your senses for sport. 
‘Look at me when I’m fucking you.” She demands, using her left hand to cover your throat. She doesn’t squeeze though, she doesn’t want to hurt you, at least not yet. 
“Stop….teasing me.” You plead as she continues having her way with your cunt, fingers already drenched as a result of her torture. She smirks.
“You shouldn’t have let that slut sit with us.” She says, stopping what she’s doing and putting them inside you this time, moving her thumb quickly over your clit in their absence. She start’s fucking your inner walls as rough as she wants to, not giving a fuck how overwhelming it feels. You lean your head back, gripping at her biceps and clawing them slightly with your nails. She gasps at the feeling of this, and you can tell she’s getting off on it. 
“That’s what this ’s about? Mmm….” You moan, still looking into her eyes as best you can. “You’re jealous?” 
“Shut the fuck up.” She says, removing her fingers from your neck and putting them in your mouth instead.
“Put that pretty mouth to use and be grateful for the pleasure I give you.” You suck gratefully at her fingers and instead of the slow pace she was doing before, she goes so fast you feel your stomach start to swirl immediately. “MMM” You moan through her fingers. She doesn’t stop, not even when you claw at her arms so hard they make imprints in her skin. You can’t fight the need to close your eyes this time, and suddenly, right before orgasm, you feel nothing. Her long, wide fingers go out of you and your pussy pulses, as if to complain in morse code. She removes her hands from your mouth.
“Why?” You gasp. She kisses you deeply again, throwing you against a wall and protecting your head with her hand.
“I told you, look at me when I’m fucking you, or I stop.” She warns, putting her hand into your underwear again.
You cry out as she does so, you were already so sensitive. She smiles innocently at you.
“Aw, too much baby?” She asks, still refusing to switch up her speed, moving fast and hard in and out of your cunt. The slick from inside you leaks off her fingers, painting the inside of your thighs. She keeps going. And going. Until you are clutching onto her and throbbing as you release on her hand. 
 You let out a satisfied sigh, but Abby is far from reaching that point herself and looks around the room, spotting an empty couch. 
She picks you up effortlessly, your legs clinging onto her. She throws you onto the couch, moving on top of you and ensuring you have no where to go. Once in a good position, she’s moving her knee dangerously close to your cunt. 
“It’s too soon…” you breathe out, moving your legs together to protect your dripping pussy. She ignores you, circling your clit and entire pussy with her concealed knee. The tough material of her green cargo jeans manipulating yet another painful orgasm from her is a feeling second to none, and she already has you moaning her name.
“A…Abby…” you cry. She moves faster.
You let out a shaky gasp. “…bby” she moves wider.
“A-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before bucking your hips into her knee and another orgasm floods your body. 
“You’re so wet for me baby.” She hums, taking off her belt and pants. 
“Put your arms up.” She commands,her expression neutral and portraying that same look she always gets when she has something she needs to get done. You just look at her, admiring her body. Her eyes darken at your behaviour and she grabs your arms, tying her belt over them with one hand, tightening your hands together.
“Don’t want to listen to me, huh? I’ll show you what happens when you don’t behave. While gaping over the fact you can no longer move your hands, Abby pushes her head in between your cunt and you practically scream as she tastes you, flattening her tongue on your clit and moving her head around and around to explore every bit off your pussy like it’s the most important thing she’ll ever do.
She moans out as she does it and your pussy throbs in her mouth at this. You can tell this has swiftly became Abby’s new favourite activity, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this becase a regular hang out routine.
Your confined hands make it harder for you, as you can’t grab on to Abby’s hair or even the leather couch. She continues moaning and sucking sloppily, her hands on either thigh.
“I’m, I’m gonna-“ You start, and Abby takes this as an indication to give you everything she has, putting three fingers into your tight hole all while not coming up for air.
Abby slows down the movements with her tongue, still giving you enough to feel fucking heavenly, but not enough to make you cum just yet.
With every bit of care, Abby slowly puts a fourth finger in and tears dwell in your eyes.
“F….fuck….mmmhm” You cry. She moves her head away so she’ll be audible.
“Think you can take my whole hand baby?” Feral was an understatement of understatements. This question made you feel so fucking insane you probably wouldn’t even remember your own name if you were asked it right now. You look at her hand, her wide fingers, her massive fist you had seen use to bash people’s skulls into the floor, her whole fist would probably cause some sort of damage to you, surely…
“Yea..” you whisper. She smiles widely.
“That’s my good girl.” She says before returning to her previous position, licking your glistening slit as she eased her hand inside you. 
“Mmm fu- mmmm Ab- oh m- fuck” The feeling of her tongue was electrifying. To think Abby could have liked you before, to think you guys could have been doing this ages ago, fuck there was nothing like it in the world. You always dreamed of this, always wondered what it would be like if she used those hands for more than just violence or working out, and now you got your answer. Now you truely knew how fucking good she was. 
That sensation she had made you experienced several times in the last hour or less was returning and as she continued doing tricks with her tongue and hand, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on.
“Abigail….” You moan. She moves her fist in and out slightly faster.
“I’m gonna fucking….Abby~~” You gasp, releasing hard as your body cried out for a break. It takes a while to take back your breath as Abby eases out of you, admiring her now coated hand.
“Was that good, baby?” You don’t reply, blushing ferociously at the site of her hand and fingers.
“Come on,” she says, untying your hands. “You’ve got one more in you my gorgeous girl.” She chants, and now that you can actually see again, you have the opportunity to see her entire body. She’s wearing boxers that look so fucking good on her you want to tear them off with your teeth. 
She notices your staring and smiles. 
“Like what you see baby?” You nod excitedly.
“God, yes.” You exclaim. She has that cocky fucking smirk on her face again. She knows she good. 
“You’re hands are free now, you can touch.” She explains, her voice low. Before you even have a chance to touch her, though, she grabs your arm and does it for you, placing your hand there and allowing you to feel the shape of her cunt through the smooth material. 
And fuck. She’s wet. You don’t why you thought she wouldn’t be. Maybe you had assumed she was above that, or maybe you were still in denial she had any kind of feelings for you at all, even if she only wanted sex or whatever the fuck it is Abby wants. 
You start feeling her up through the fabric and she tilts her head.
“You first.” You let out an annoyed breath and she laughs at how adorable she finds you.
“You’ve already made me…well…a lot.” You say, your face a deep red. 
“Why can’t I let you feel good?” You ask. She picks you up and places you on her thigh, leaning herself back against the sofa. 
“Pleasuring you does make me feel good baby. So I’m gonna do anything and everything I want to you unless I hear any objections.” Still blushing, you nod.
“You won’t get any from me.” You declare quietly.
“I’m gonna teach you better than to question me.” She insists, grabbing your hips and moving your clit over her bare thigh. You can’t help but smile as pleasure surrounds you again.
“Fuck Abs…” She keeps guiding your hips, breathing heavy herself at the sight of you.
“Look at you, my pretty girl fucking herself on my leg. I wonder, does it turn you on?” Your still throbbing cunt feels amazing against her quads and you can’t help but wrap your arms around her neck and pull yourself in closer.
“Yes.” You admit in her ear. She kisses you hungrily while increasing the pace.
“Yes, what?”
“A…abby.” You say, and her eyes roll back, her head hitting the wall at how turned on she is. You could cum at the sight of it.
“Will you please let me make you cum?” You ask, just wanting her to feel even a fraction of what she’s made you feel. She takes one hand off your hip and puts it on your neck, her hand fitting almost completely around it. 
“Look at you.” She whispers, enticingly.  “SO fucking desperate. The way I love.” Abby coos. You roll your eyes.
“Will you at least take your bra off?” She shoves you down onto the couch, pinning your hands down with her over you.
“Do you want to see what happens when you keep making demands before I’m done with you?” She asks. 
Still gasping for air from the shock of the situation, you don’t answer, instead you just shake you head. You want her too fucking bad, you can’t wait to be fucked any longer, even if painful and slowly drawn out orgasms with her hands and mouth were arguably as good right about now.
“Don’t make me tie your hands again.” She warns, retuning you to the position before and watching you get off on her thigh. You remain like this for some time, just slowly feeling yourself on her bare thighs.
“Tell me how good it feels baby.” 
“S’ good Abs.” You say, and she increases the pace. 
“Tell me what you think of Ryan.”
“What? N-now?” You breathe out, already closer to the edge than you should be right now. Before she can make another one of her remarks, you stop her.
“Alright, alright, I- I don’t know, he’s okay-“
“Do you think he’s hot?” She asks, sucking on your neck as she guides your hips. You moan loudly when she does this, fuck you love when she kisses your neck. You would let your entire neck be riddled with hickeys for her, you wouldn’t even care who saw. 
“I asked you a question.” “No. No I don’t think he’s hot.”
“So you were gonna use him for sex, then? No attraction?” Abby asks. Fuck you’re so close. 
“I….yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes Abby, I…was gonna use him for sex.” 
“Why?”
“Abby I’m gonna c-“
“WHY?” She yells. Fuck you’re cumming. 
“C-cause I n- ugh~”  She hugs you tightly, still not removing you from her thigh. You breathe out desperately. 
“I needed a distraction from you.” You blurt out, teary eyed from all the sex. She actually looks surprised at this.
“Wait, what? From me?”
“I’ve liked you for….mmm…a while.” You say. She kisses you deeply for a long time, several minutes of just entangling your mouths in each others throats, if that were even possible.
“I…wanted you so bad that I- I thought he would distract me, make it hurt less that you didn’t want m-“ “You shut the fuck up. I’ve never not wanted you. You’re fucking mine.”
“What? But you never said anything.” You exclaim. She shakes her head dismissively. 
“Yeah well I’m a fucking idiot. Let’s see if there’s a bed in this place, I wanna fuck you properly.”
You look down at the infected on the floor not too far from you.
“Ah yes, the bed belonging to that dead guy over there, romantic.” She can’t help but laugh at this and you both walk through the building, (you practically limping you’re that sensitive). There’s a bedroom. The bed doesn’t look exactly comfortable, but it’s better than a couch or floor.
In saying that though, you would let Abby take you anywhere on any surface at any time if you were truly being honest with yourself. 
She places you carefully on the bed. 
“It’s not that bad?” She asks, and you both smile. She takes her bra off and you try your best to keep your composure but in your mind you’re smiling like a little girl.
“Go on then.” She says, and she doesn’t need to tell you twice. You pin her down, (something she definitely let you do rather than something you did yourself) and start kissing her tits, sucking only for a few seconds on each of her hard nipples. The actual flesh there is soft and you let your hand explore her exposed chest too.
She just watches, amused. Your hand reaches into her boxes and she opens her mouth to stop you, but bites her tongue. She’s not used to anything less than rough, quick sex, all of which she was usually the dominant one, but then again, she’s never been with anyone she cared about until now. She lets out a surprised and satisfied gasp when you find her weakest spot quite easily and rub circles over the area with two fingers at a swift pace.
“Mmm.” She speaks, happily. You position your head in between her legs, still moving your fingers and letting consequent moans and gasps leave her pretty lips. You kiss her inner thigh, licking the muscular skin and eventually sucking it too, leaving dark purple marks there. You go to suck her off through the fabric but she puts a hand on your chin and pulls you back up to eye height. 
“I don’t think so. My turn.” You don’t fight her on this and she pulls her underwear down, tossing it on the floor. Then, she takes off any of your remaining clothes and licks down your entire body. She spits on your pussy, as if it weren’t wet enough, and positions herself cautiously. 
She moves her leg up over your shoulder and pulls you into her and fuck. She fits in you like a fucking glove. You both gasp at the contact. Your arms are up straight to support yourself and your head tilts back, both moaning in unison.
“Mmm….fuck, baby” 
“A…Abby.” You both moan. You move faster and somehow you both manage to keep a perfect rhythm, feeling heat and various other things between you.
“Tell me I’m…fucking yours.” Abby orders between moans. 
“I’m yours Abby.” “You belong- ah~”
“I belong to Abby…Anderson.” You breathe out. She leans her head back.
“Fuck baby keep doing that and I’ll come.”
“There’s no-one else but you Abby.”
“Mmmph~” She replies, shutting her eyes. You can tell she’s so close.
“No one….can fuck me like y- ah~~”
“Fuck I’m c- mmm.” She let’s out, and you both feel each other’s orgasms in addition to your own. 
You don’t stop right away though, you ride it out until there’s nothing left and the sheet’s below you are drenched. 
When you finally regain consciousness or, at least a grip on reality, you look up at Abby who’s stroking your hair with her middle fingers.
“That was probably my most eventful patrol yet.” You say. She kisses you deeply.
“Sorry I was so rough on you.”
“Yeah, where did that even come from? I mean…do you fuck all your friends when you don’t like someone they talk to?” You tease. She huffs.
“Call me your friend again and I’ll fuck you into next week.”
You grin. 
“Deal.”
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marvelfilth · 3 months
Text
Sweet dreams (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: dubcon, smut, fingering, somnophilia, praise, restraints, blindfold
Masterlist
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You shift on the bed, slowly stirring into consciousness, your mind still heavy with sleep. You curl deeper into the pillow, desperately chasing some remnants of sleep.
There was a party at the Avengers tower last night - one of Tony's best, some might say - and it left you pleasantly buzzed and bone tired. Natasha made you stay in her room, choosing to spend the night with her girlfriend, right across the hall. You couldn't say no even if you wanted to - making it all the way to the other side of the city to your own apartment sounded like the worst thing last night, and the promise of sleeping in Natasha’s bed, in her clothes made you giddy enough to stay. Even if she spent the night in the arms of another. Even if you have feelings for the said another.
God, you're such a mess, falling in love with two of the most unapproachable women.
You have no idea what time it is - your sleeping mask prevents you from seeing anything and you're glad for that. You would've been up already with the sun shining right in your face.
You sigh deeply, and float back into unconsciousness, dreaming of soft touches and gentle hands, of warm breath over your neck and wet kisses pressed to your shoulders. Your hips move, buckling back in search of friction, your heat leaking with arousal. You whine in your sleep, wishing for the touches to move lower, to sink into your warmth and make you come undone.
And then there's a bite. A gentle nib, teeth scraping against the slope of your neck, and you realize with a start - you're fully awake, and the warmth on your hip is still there, wet lips are still on your shoulders, and oh…
There's another pair of hands.
You tremble, squeezing your hips tight, and inhale deeply. Soft hair tickles your face and you try to move, but strong arms keep you in place from both sides, two bodies trapping you in place.
Before you can even think about speaking, fingers trail down your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Another hand tugs your shirt up, revealing your underwear. You know it's drenched, but you still try to hide it, wriggling your body to the side.
A husky chuckle makes its way to your ears, teasing your neck with a hot gust of breath.
Natasha.
You moan, your legs spreading on their own violation.
“Good girl,” she husks, her palm settling on your lower stomach possessively.
Another voice hums, and then someone cups your breast under your shirt, tracing circles over your nipple before pinching it, sending sparks down your body right to your aching clit. You whine, reaching to tug off your mask, but you're stopped. Your shirt is pulled up, exposing your breasts, your hands near the headboard bind by it.
“Don't move.”
Wanda.
You cry out pathetically, almost coming from the sound of her voice. Hot mouth leaves your breasts wet with spit, lips leave purple bruises on the tender skin.
“Touch me, please,” you moan, arching off the bed. “Please.”
Another husky chuckle, another pinch to your nipple and then… a finger slides over your clit, then moves to the side of your panties, up and down, up and down, and you whine, trying to grind against her hand. An arm wraps across your stomach, keeping you in place. Someone - Wanda - burrows her face into the crook of your neck, marking.
Natasha leans over you, and finally, finally, plunges three fingers inside, and, oh God, you have no time to adjust because Natasha thrusts deep and fast, curling her fingers. You moan, trapped in place by two of the most beautiful women, your pussy swallowing Natasha's fingers, the wet sounds making you blush.
You can feel your wetness dripping to leave a stain on Natasha's bed.
You pant, orgams approaching. Wanda slides her hand off your stomach to play with your clit, circling it rapidly, her breath hot on your neck, her body molded against your side.
Your sleeping mask is tugged off right when you start clenching around Natasha's fingers. You blink against the blinding light, barely managing to focus on Natasha's dark eyes and Wanda's slurty grin.
“Wanna see you come, pretty girl,” Natasha smirks, pushing deeper.
You throw your head back with a moan, body taut, your walls clenching hard, and when Wanda presses firmly on your clit right when Natasha’s fingers curl inside you, you cry out loud enough for everyone in the tower to hear.
“Good morning,” Wanda whispers against your lips, swallowing your moans as you come.
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zhonglicious · 4 months
Text
cw. size kink, breeding kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), implied overstimulation, lmk if i forgot any!
"c'mon baby, gimme one more."
he groans, lips pressed against your clit and your legs over his shoulders. one of his hands is occupied with fingering you, the pads of his ring and middle fingers massaging the spot he knows drives you insane.
his cock is just too big for you, and he has to make you cum at least once just so he can finally put it in. not that he's complaining, of course. he loves making you cum on his tongue and the feeling of your hands pulling at his hair, almost as much as he loves the feeling of your cunt around his cock. almost.
when he finally thinks you're ready, it takes all his willpower not to just slide all of it in immediately. you're so wet, folds easily parting and letting him in. but he can't. he knows he's big and he doesn't want to hurt you but god, is it fucking hard to hold back when he can feel the way your cunt is sucking him in.
slowly, inch by inch, he manages to sheath himself fully and oh, god... his head is spinning with the whimper you make as the head nudges against your sweet spot, your eyes glossy with tears because it just feels so good. he wants to give you a few seconds or minutes to adjust. really, he does.
but when you gasp and tell him "s' so big..." while you press against your lower stomach and look up at him with hearts in your eyes... all his patience and restraint goes out the window because he can't think of anything else other than stuffing you full of his cum.
sighhh. big men who try to be patient and gentle but still end up making you sore with how much they want to fuck a baby into you.
BAJI, draken, TAIJU, kakucho, mucho, daichi, USHIJIMA, KUROO, iwaizumi, kunigami, + any of ur favs!!
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jupipedia · 11 months
Text
— so anxious. - m. o'hara. warnings : nsfw [ minors, do not interact. ], degradation [ reader gets called whore, cumdump, etc. ], sex in various place [against the wall & on the bed ], rough sex [ biting, groping, cervix kissing, dumbification, hair pulling, etc. ], overstimulation, plot? don't know her, google translated spanish, size kink, unprotected sex [ wrap it up, people! ], slight dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, etc.
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"mi-miguel, please! ah~ sl-slow down," you panted, tightening your grip around his neck as he pounded into you with no restraint. he didn't slow or soften his pace as he adjusted you higher onto the wall, allowing himself to enter you deeper.
"puedes tomarlo, chiquita. you always do," he whispered into your ear as your head fell to rest on his shoulder. his thrusts caused the tip of his generous cock to press into your pleasure point, causing your strength to weaken a bit. he was pushing you closer to your third release of the night, having pulled the first two from you with his mouth and fingers.
tonight, miguel was feral.
you weren't exactly sure what brought it on as he didn't give you a chance to ask for an explanation, walking into your shared apartment and ordering you to strip as he removed his suit. you assumed that something set him off during a mission or at headquarters as he wouldn't let you out of his reach, pulling you impossible closer as he fucked you.
"i'm gonna cum," you moaned out, your volume increasing as he grabbed your braids at the roots to gain access to your neck. using his fangs, he nibbled along the length of your throat, fucking into you wordlessly. you let out a pleasure yelp as you reached your climax, legs around his waist. it didn't take long for miguel to reach his climax as he came inside your spent cunt as your insides throbbed from your own release.
he maneuvered you so that both of your legs were over his arms before carrying to the bed, not removing himself from your core as he walked. he laid you on the bed, frame covering yours as he trapped you under him. he pressed your legs to your chest and pulled out until it was just his tip before pushing back into you pussy, coming in direct contact with your cervix.
"fuck, miguel! i can't- i can't! 's too mu-much," your voice wavered as he fucked into you deeply, repeatedly hit your cervix.
"you're my cumdump. yo decido cuándo terminas. eres mía y solo mío, ¿entiendes?" he growled out into your neck, increasing the harshness of his thrusts.
"i understand! mmh~ please, i'm gonna come again~,' you drawled out, eyes rolling back as he bit harshly on the crook of your neck, littering your neck with dark hickies.
miguel loved to see you like this, your smaller frame withering under his large body with droll and tears covering your face. he couldn't get enough of your swollen lips as they released babbles when he rubbed the deepest parts of your pussy. he loved the feeling of your full breasts pushed against his body, the peaks hard as they raked against his abdomen.
"look at me when you come, whore. ¿dónde está mi agradecimiento, bebé? hmm? forgot your manners?" he muttered, grabbing ahold of your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze as you came. your convulsing orgasm triggered his own as he pushed himself as deep as he could before stilling, releasing his seed at the entrance of your cervix.
he relaxed his tense body for few seconds, allowing you both time to catch you breath before loosening his grip on your face.
"come back to me, mi vida. you did so well. always so good for me, hmm?" he whispered to you, observing as your eyes focused back on him.
"hi, baby," you sighed out, closing your eyes and letting your head fall onto your ruined comforter.
"no puedo dejar que te duermas, cariño. gotta' clean you off before you can go to sleep, okay?" he hummed, pulling you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.
"yeah, yeah, whatever," you mumbled, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your face in the crook of his neck.
"hablo en serio."
"lo sé que eres. now please, shush."
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puedes tomarlo, chiquita. - you can take it, little one.
yo decido cuándo terminas. eres mía y solo mío, ¿entiendes? - I decide when you finish. you are mine and only mine, do you understand?
¿dónde está mi agradecimiento, bebé? - where's my thank you, baby?
mi vida. - darling.
no puedo dejar que te duermas, cariño. - i can't let you fall asleep, sweetheart.
hablo en serio. - i'm serious.
lo sé que eres. - i know you are.
[correct me if they are wrong!!]
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