#And then that girl who is part of the fangs and asked me to be there to support her if she needed it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notmyneighbor · 6 months

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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 8

Word Count ~ 4.6k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, slight breeding kink, body horror, minor violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You always have to be extra careful when one of the Sverchzt sisters is asking to enter the building.

Twins, and both of them nearly identical, save for the location of the mole on the cheek: on the right for Selenne, the left for Elenois. Both employed as models, with the same hourglass figures, full, painted lips, long lashes, and breathy voices accented with something exotically European sounding. You always feel very plain and lacking around them; it was like being back in school again as the shy, unpopular girl, envying the pretty cheerleaders that seemed to have it all.

But you don’t feel inadequate today, still buoyed up from your feelings of being with Francis’ doppelgänger all weekend. You look over the identification card and entry request, finding everything in order. The elegant woman is on the day’s list of expected entrants, too. You’re nearly ready to hit the switch to grant her access into the apartments, still reminiscing about your fiancé, when something in you, some sixth sense kicking in, cautions you that you should probably call the apartment, just to be certain. There is nothing visually you can identify that is incorrect about the haughty woman on the opposite side of the glass, who is now folding her arms across her ample chest, the polished nail of an index finger tapping against the porcelain skin of one slender forearm. An impatient gesture you’ve seen Selenne make before, dozens of times. Nothing suspicious about the documents, either. But still, you feel it is better to be safe than sorry.

You already know all the residents’ phone numbers by heart now, the quick four digit extensions granting you rapid access.

“Hello. Elenois speaking. My sister and I are both at home today. We are not expecting any visitors.”

“Thank you.” You keep your expression calm, hurriedly flipping the plastic shield down and depressing the button to sound the alarm, catching one last glimpse of the doppelgänger, the crimson polished nails now scratching at the glass pane, the eyes with the lids shadowed in lavender streaked and bloodshot, the plush lips parting to expose yellow fangs dripping spittle before the shutters finish descending. You phone the disposal team, still maintaining your composure.

Close. That had been too close. You had to concentrate. Focus.

The day progresses and you find yourself getting back into the rhythm of things. Wondering how your pretender beau had decided which members of his squadron to sacrifice, sending them to the building to meet their doom to throw the DDD off the trail. What would happen when the numbers dwindled, when there were none left to send? Did the faded mark he’d left behind still shield you? Or did it only make you more desireable, like what had happened with the replicant who looked like Izaack Gauss?

You’re picking at the peeling varnish of the battered desk during the afternoon lull when someone walks into the building and your heart stops.

Francis.

Not the original, and not your doppel, either. This one is nearly a dead ringer, except for the nose that’s not quite right, the tip slightly larger, the nostrils a little more flared.

It had never occurred to you that there would still be other versions of the milkman walking around. Where has he been all this time?

“Mmm…hello.” The customary greeting the genuine version had always adopted. He slides an ID card through the slot.

“Entry request?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot. Here it is.” The smile breaks your heart. His smile. Only not.

You stare at the document for long moments. Everything looks correct: the document expiration date present and set for the future; the serial number identical to what you have on file; the logo of your organization in plain sight; the stated reason for the alleged milkman’s absence logical. All of the elements appear as they should, save for that slightly mismatched nose in the photograph and entry request.

“Is there a problem?”

Your eyes lift to meet his. Why are you drawing this out?

“Your appearance,” you answer distractedly.

“Yes? What about it? Doesn’t it match the picture?”

You shake your head, reaching for the alarm button. “I’m sorry.” It’s foolish, being this sentimental. No reason for it. You know the real Francis is gone. You know it’s not the invader you’ve fallen for.

Alarm blossoms on the fake milkman’s features. His hands clasp together. “Wait, please…I’ll leave. Just…I don’t want to die.”

You freeze. This was new. The doppels always reacted with anger when their cover was blown. You’ve never had one beg for their life before.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Was it true? Were there others that were willing to coexist peacefully? Had you incorrectly assumed they all sought the same goal, replacing humans and ruling over the planet, the one remarkable exception being your lover?

Or was this just a new tactic that they’d adopted, evolving, learning, adapting better to human weaknesses?

You had no way of knowing which it was.

“I can’t,” you say. “I’m sorry.” You slam your fist against the alarm switch before the replicant tries to escape, that same soft, pleading look haunting you as the shutter descends. The cleaners arrive and you cover your ears with your hands. You don’t want to listen to it. You can’t.

There are tears in your eyes when the figure in the yellow hazmat suit declares you are now able to return to your job.

***

The replicant milkman—yours, you note with relief—arrives later that afternoon, hastily adjusting the cap on his head, offering a brief glimpse of the perspiration from the heat outdoors lining his brow, his tousled brown locks damp, plastered against his forehead. He’s already smiling before he’s even reached the window, hurriedly thrusting his document and ID card through the slot, and something else, something that sounds metallic against the shallow stainless opening at the bottom of the window.

You reach for it, realizing what it is the second your fingers close over the object: your engagement ring.

The DDD had ceased its surveillance of the security booth, the resources and manpower needed elsewhere, apparently, so their is no longer the camera or the person watching it to worry about. You stare at the solitaire diamond, at the pretty filigree decorating the band on either side of it, and the tears that had been threatening to spill earlier come pouring out of you, a messy amalgamation of guilt and fear and relief releasing in that sudden cascade.

“Sweetheart, you like it that much? I’m so glad, I wasn’t sure…” His voice trails off. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, absently hitting the buzzer to let him in, then hitting its partner to shut the door behind him.

The door to the security booth opens. “Oh, Francis.” You throw your arms around his neck, burrowing along his shirt collar while he rubs soothing circles on your back.

“What is it, love?”

“I’ve had such a terrible day. I almost let in a doppel by mistake this morning, and just a little while ago there was a doppel that looked like Francis.”

“Sweet girl.” His arms tighten around you.

“He begged for his life, Francis. I’ve never seen that before. It was so difficult to call the team. But I had to. I had to do it. I didn’t know if he really meant he wouldn’t harm anyone, or if he was lying. I couldn’t risk him hurting the residents inside.”

“Of course you did, love.”

“How many copies of him are there? Just roaming around the city?”

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t Francis and it wasn’t me. They were just trying to trick you, and you didn’t fall for it. You did the right thing. I know it was difficult for you. I know why, love. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

You remain in his arms, letting the comfort he’s offering seep into you. He does understand, better than anyone else ever could. After a time you draw back, sniffling. The ring is still clutched tightly in your fist. You relax your palm, spreading your fingers so you can admire the piece of jewelry again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. It’s lovely, Francis. Perfect.”

The imposter smoothes the last of the tears away and kneels down, gently plucking the ring from your right hand, then reaches for your left one, sliding the diamond band onto your ring finger and kissing the back of your hand.

The sound of a throat being cleared at the window interrupts the moment. You jump, startled. It’s the pilot.

“Dropping off more paperwork, doll?” Steven Rudboys grins, sliding his card and request form towards you.

You blush, aware of your fiancé rising to his feet beside you, frowning. Of course he doesn’t understand the reference, from that day when you’d visited the doppel so early on, when he’d slipped you the invitation to come to the apartment.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” the man with the Mohawk says, his eyes lingering on the ring. “I always knew you two would end up together. Took you long enough, Mosses,” he adds, shooting the imposter milkman a sharp glance. “Don’t know what Afton and Stone are waiting for. I thought for sure they would’ve set a date by now. Bet you two don’t wait that long to tie the knot.”

Your cheeks are scarlet, your eyes focused on the documents, checking the day’s schedule. On the day’s list. A quick phone call just to confirm what you already know, allowing the man to enter the apartments once you’ve spoken to his father, heaving a sigh of relief when he’s finally gone from sight.

“I don’t like him,” the pretender says, his voice nearly a growl. “I don’t think Francis ever did, either. Too intrusive.” He turns his attention back to you. “Maybe not the best timing for the ring,” he observes ruefully.

“I’m sorry. I love it. Truly. It’s just been a very hectic, stressful day.”

“Don’t apologize. You have every right to be feeling that way. I think…I hope…I can help with that. Come see me as soon as you get off shift, okay? And be careful. If you need me, call.”

You nod, kissing him before he exits the booth and heads towards the elevator. You stretch your hand out, turning it slightly, watching how the light plays over the facets. It was official. You were engaged. You doubted it would take long for the rumor mill of the apartment building to circulate the news. Poor Francis. He’d be bombarded with well wishers and busybodies. Rudboys was probably going to keep at him mercilessly.

The rest of your shift passes by blessedly uneventfully. It is nearly time for your workday to end. Time to return to your lover waiting for you upstairs, the doppel you’re betrothed to.

***

You tap your knuckles on the door of apartment 3-02, greeted by the copy of the living space’s former owner.

He’s shed the troublesome cap, the ebony bow unknotted and draped around his neck, the first pair of buttons on his shirt undone. He smiles at you. “Hello, future Mrs. Mosses.”

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Do you have proper identification?”

“I seem to have forgotten it.”

He clucks his tongue. “Then I can’t let you in, I’m afraid.”

“Do you accept bribes?”

His lips twitch. “Maybe.” The opening widens. “Come in here.”

You enter and the door closes behind you. “That was easy. I don’t think you’d make a good doorman,” you tease.

“No, but I make up for it elsewhere, don’t I?” He murmurs and you hum in agreement as he slides a hand around your waist, dragging you against him. “It’s torture being away from you. To go from having the weekend together to this long absence all day…” His lips touch yours, traveling to your neck.

“I know. I thought about you all day long.” Your hand rests on his chest. He covers it with his own, toying with the ring on your finger. A little room to move the band, but still secure around the digit. You didn’t wear jewelry often, but the size you’d told him had been the correct one. “I love it, Francis.”

“I’m glad.” Another kiss on your mouth. “I’m hungry for you, love.”

You feel it in his kisses. No longer gentle. Tongue stroking yours roughly. Teeth nipping. You cross the hallway to the bedroom with your fiancé. Unfastening clothing. Yours. His. Impatient to be naked. A button tears from your blouse. “I’ll mend it later,” you say distractedly.

Your back is tucked against his chest, the pair of you standing before the dresser mirror. Your breathing is loud, nearly as loud as his. You would have been mortified to be making so much noise even a month ago. But you have no reason to hide it now. You’re engaged. No one on this floor was going to pretend they didn’t know what goes on with young couples behind closed doors. You’ve heard Afton and Stone going at it before. Not nearly as often or as loud as you and your doppel, though.

You’re about to bend to slide your thigh high nylons off but the copycat halts you, his hand clasping yours above the scalloped lace edge that clings to your leg.

“Leave them on for me? I like them.” He snaps a garter belt playfully, dragging a hand over your lace panties. Something else that was new. You normally wore sensible undergarments beneath your work clothes. But now you had someone to admire what clung to your intimate places. He caresses the space between your legs through the delicate fabric, dragging his hand up to begin massaging your breasts encased in a matching brassiere. “Gorgeous. So beautiful, love.” His mouth worries along your shoulder.

“Are you going to mark me again?”

A pause, his hands and lips freezing. “Do you want me to?”

The low pitch of his voice drags across your core. You’re still frightened of it. But you want it, all the same. You want this creature to claim you. “Yes. Do you?”

The doppelgänger’s lips are by your ear. “Yes, love. But you shouldn’t watch…”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “I want to. I want to see you…”

“Sweetheart…” Hesitant. Perhaps more afraid than you are. To be seen. Exposed. To let the monster off the leash, as it were. Allowing the demon within out to play.

“I trust you.”

He moans softly against your hair. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?”

“I love you.”

A whimper. The thing inside anxious to be let out, scratching and gnawing at the bars of its enclosure, that barrier of human flesh that had once belonged to Francis Mosses. Nails raking across your abdomen. Not enough to puncture the skin, still careful, the barest scrape of the unsheathed claws you can just see emerging now. Tearing at the fabric covering your sex, the material fraying, the embroidered threads coming loose. The crown of chocolate hair lifts and you see his eyes: the doppel’s eyes, peering at your from behind Francis’ sleepy dark ones. Red like blood, like the vessels that burst in surrender, like the lining of those shadowed lower lids. The white sclera of the orbs iridescent, shimmery, identical to the outline of the alien creature clutching you, an unsteady shift in the very particles and atoms that comprise him, things unseen, things not meant to be viewed by a mortal eye. The neat ivory teeth no longer tame incisors and molars, but transformed, sharp like the cuspids of a vampire, ravenous, the drool dripping from them onto your skin.

It is still not what he truly is; that monster well concealed, struggling to maintain control in this tenuous bridged state, not quite one or the other, partly human, partly doppel. What remains of your panties are shoved down, his leaking cock pressing against the curve of one cheek of your buttocks. He pushes against you and you grasp the edge of the dresser, the stained and varnished wood supporting you at a slight angle as he guides his erection inside of you.

Your body is already gushing arousal, welcoming him in. You catch sight of your heaving chest in the mirror, your lingerie encased breasts lifting and straining to burst free, much like the replicant thrusting into you.

He says your name, and it is not Francis’ voice at all. This a summons from deep within, heavy, full of gravel, dragging across your flesh like sandpaper. The wavering, mirage-like border of his pulsing frame feels hot, sticky. Your lashes flutter. The bottles of cologne lining the dresser’s surface tumble down. So deep. He’s so deep inside of you. Shoved in to the hilt each time. And still you want him even further. Impossible. But you crave it. That complete violation. Was this what it felt like to be taken over? You’d imagined it to be painful, terrifying. Instead it was sheer bliss. Your eyes link with his through the oval shaped looking glass once more.

“More, please, Francis…”

He jerks you away from the dresser, still impaled on his cock. Here is the pain you’d anticipated, that searing kiss of teeth piercing your shoulder, sucking the skin over the bone, a burst of stars in front of your eyes, fireworks ricocheting within you as you come undone, your insides splashed with something molten, soaked with your lover’s release. Wet skin, wet pussy, drenched prick, sweat and cum and that thin trail of blood seeping from the wound he’s created, laving rapturously at the taste of you, that very human taste in his very inhuman mouth.

His body shudders against yours. Aftershocks, not from orgasm but the shift back to how he appeared before, the glow dissipating, eyes cleared and gentling, the sharp hooks tipping each finger a replica of Francis’ blunt edged nails once more. Only a few red welts betray those nightmare claws’ existence, where he had become a little too lost in the passion, tattooing the soft flesh of your abdomen. The door to the invader’s cage is sealed shut once again. You hold him upright as much as he holds you steady, slipping free from your entrance, the hot spill of seed leaking down your thighs, seeping into the stockings. You can feel the tremors still spasming, your own nerves quivering with the remnants of pleasure, echoing against you as your lover’s body shares the same sensation. The panting breaths grow quieter. The sound of the Rudboys’ television next door disturbs the stillness. You’d completely missed the audio cue of the curfew horn.

“Sweet girl.” It’s all he can seem to manage, this whispered into your hair. It’s the milkman’s voice again, but it sounds raw, raspy. The vocal chords had been strained, never meant to produce the sounds they had earlier.

You rest your hand on the one clutching your abdomen, the glint of your engagement ring winking, a stubborn sparkle in the glow of the lamp, struggling against the growing darkness in the room as the day’s natural light fails beyond the curtained window.

***

The blackberry jam, pulled from the refrigerator several hours later, is perfect.

Perhaps one of the best batches you’ve ever tasted. You’ve snuck a sample from the unsealed mason jar, unable to wait. You’re already imagining how good that flavor will be when it’s smoothed over the biscuits you’re making with your doppelgänger, his fingers kneading the dough mixture you’ve just created. There is a stray bit of flour dusting his nose where he’d absently stroked an itch along the bridge and you wipe it clear, the touch becoming a lingering caress. He pauses, fingers still dug into the dough, looking at you with that same kind of wonder as he had earlier, after the incident in the bedroom.

As if he cannot believe what you’d asked for, accepted so willingly, eagerly; of the control over his true form he’d been able to maintain, keeping you safe.

Pats of butter melt quickly on the sliced biscuits pulled from the oven. You’re sweating. You need a shower after this for certain. You slather on a generous layer of the sweet fruit spread, offering a bite to your fiancé. He chews, nodding approvingly. There is a stray bit of jam on the corner of his mouth. You cannot resist lapping at it. Licking his mouth open. Tasting the sweetness there. Marveling at how quickly the desire is rekindled. Perhaps you would never be sated. Always this ache, this gnawing want in your center.

Drenched in the shower together. Back out again. Night sounds through the open window. The measured footsteps of a patrol. Soft chatter. A dog barking. You miss your farmhouse. The crickets and the scent of lilac blossoms and your lover in your bed, on cotton sheets that smell like the outdoors, hung on the line to dry in the clear air.

“Francis,” you murmur, your mouth tracing the outline of the crest of one hip, you hand curled around the other. Tasting the soap on his skin, the slight masculine musk as you wander along his groin, swiping your tongue across his cock.

Your shoulder throbs, pulsing in time with the neediness within. You want it again already. Not just the sex, but the other. A strange kind of addiction developing.

Your pussy aches to be filled again. You suck his erection and moan, hastily tucking your hair out of the way. Ravenous. An animalistic slobber. Lips loose. Shoving down as far as you can tolerate. Past it. Insistent, fucking your throat with his dick.

A little gasp of surprise from the doppel. “Easy, love. Don’t waste it. Want to…”

You release his spit soaked member, planting wet kisses back up his stomach, his chest. Crawling over his body until you reach his mouth. “What do you want, Francis?” Your voice a whisper, matching his.

“Oh love, you know what I want.” This huffed beside your cheek. You’re teasing kisses along his jaw, nipping at an ear lobe.

“Tell me. Tell me how you want to fill me up. With your cock. With your cum. Breed me, make a baby…”

You don’t know where the words come from. Another gasp. A growl. You want to impale yourself on him but it’s not the ideal position for getting pregnant. You allow him to shift, moving your body with his, pinning you beneath him.

“Is that what you want, sweet girl?” His hands press into the pillow beneath your head. There are a proper quartet of them now, piled plush cushions for you and your alien lover.

“Yes. Please, Francis…”

His knee parts your legs. Pressure. He’s inside you.

Your head lifts off the pillow and he captures your lips, pressing you back down. Working inside of you slow and steady, fucking you back open.

“There you go, love.” His mouth gentle on yours.

“I need…”

“What? What do you need?”

Your shoulder is on fire. “I want you to mark me again.”

“No, love. It’s too soon for that.” You feel him shake his head, the faint stir of air beside your cheek with the motion.

“It felt so good.”

“I know.”

“Put the light on, then? Let me see you. Let me see what’s inside…”

“No.” His voice loud now, his hips still against yours. “No, it’s too risky.”

“You can control it. I know you can. I trust you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“So explain it to me.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because why?”

“Because I’m afraid,” he confesses against your neck. “You’ve no idea the strain. The desire to tear free. It would destroy Francis’ body. The urge to devour you…” He kisses your throat softly. “Let me love you like the man I appear to be.”

“I love you. You, what’s inside.” You touch his cheek.

“I know, love. And the way that makes me feel is indescribable. I don’t need to be out of this body to experience it. I adore you, sweet girl. Let me show you how much. Like this,” he says, his hips lifting and pressing, guiding his cock back into your hollow.

Your pelvis arches to receive him. It scares you how much you want him. Your body shakes with the intensity of that desire. Craving that violence, that feeling of teetering on the brink of destruction. His, yours. The human mouth on your shoulder. Sucking. Kneading with teeth that aren’t nearly sharp enough. But it stirs whatever he’s injected you with. A venom, a toxin, not poisonous, not lethal, but a chemical that you need more of. Bringing you closer to what you’re so desperate for. It doesn’t take you long to climax, the doppel’s own release close behind. He lifts your hips and legs, propping them against his chest, keeping his seed deep inside you, stroking along your stomach.

Willing there to be a spark of life there, the way all life has begun, according to the words in the holy book still sitting on the nightstand, a burst of light in the darkness.

***

Another day at the DDD security window.

The doppelgängers have been clumsy so far. Woefully inept at replication. You didn’t need specialized training to recognize the imposter for the shoemaker with a mustache as a fake, a single eye in the center of his forehead making Albertsky Peachman look like a cyclops. The clone of the mother of the student living on the second floor had correctly replicated the placement of the blue and green irises, but the phony Nacha Mikaelys’ jaw was strangely formed, the flesh pulpy and uneven, making it appear like oatmeal.

The best part of your workday arrives on schedule, slipping a new gift into the slot this time. “Tickets to the theater for this Sunday. I know it’s not the movie you mentioned, but…”

You grin. You can’t even remember the last time you’d gone to see a movie. And now you’d be seeing it with your fiancé. “Casablanca! Oh, it’s wonderful. I have something for you, too.” You exchange an open envelope with the doppelgänger.

He slides the contents free, unfolding the letter and scanning it quickly, a smile lighting his features. “They’ve invited us to see them.”

You nod, still beaming, watching the invader tuck the letter from your parents back into the envelope. “We’ll visit the following weekend.”

“I look forward to it. Still nervous, but looking forward to it. How was your day, love?”

“It went well. Yours?”

“Better now.” Another smile. “I’ve got another surprise, too. Left it in the truck because I was anxious to see you. I’m making dinner tonight. Well we’re probably making dinner. I’m not optimistic about Francis’ cooking skills,” he adds, lowering his voice.

You couldn’t blame him for doubting it. The man’s pantry and refrigerator had been nearly empty, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because he’d been overdue for a trip to get groceries.

Thinking of the solitary, simple life of the milkman rinses the joy from your features. No real family to speak of, either, according to the doppelgänger, save for a cousin that he’d had little to no contact with. He really had been alone in the world. Isolated. You could have done something about that. You should have. But it was too late now. And you had your doppelgänger instead. The being your heart was so full for.

“Love?” The replicant sees the change in your expression, frowning now.

“I’m okay. Yes, I’ll help you cook. It sounds fun.” You’re not relishing the thought of working over a hot stove in that stuffy third floor living space, longing for the upcoming change in the weather. But you like the idea of working beside your partner. Preparing a meal. And what would come after.

The bite on your shoulder throbs, reminding you.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #that’s not my neighbor #the milkman

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★ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches.

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed.

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet.

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had.

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs.

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me."

Your brows creased together in confusion.

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game.

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp.

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy.

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips.

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax.

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you.

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

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strang3lov3 · 11 months

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Halloween Special

Summary: You dress up as Joel for Halloween, and Tommy helps you enhance your costume. Joel fucking hates your costume. God, you're annoying.

Warnings: smut, arguing, oral (f receiving) male masturbation, joel jerks himself off while eating u out, southern phrases, unprotected piv, rough sex, Joel stuffs your mouth with part of his costume to shut you up, creampie, secret Ron Swanson (Joel dresses up like a pirate the way Ron Swanson does), yee haw mothafuckas

A/N: This story absolutely can be read as a standalone, but if you like these two and would like to see more of their antics, they the Mall Rats and you can read more about them in my masterlist ! thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️❤️ btw it is my birthday🎂🎉🥳i'm 21 today! And if you were feeling so inclined i wouldn't say no to some birthday wishes <3

“Why do all of these women’s costumes look like they’re from Victoria’s Secret?”, you ask as you and Joel rifle through the pile of twenty year old Halloween costumes. You’ve just gotten back from an old Spirit Halloween store with Joel, and now you’re sorting through costumes for the people of Jackson at his house. Some are salvageable and in good condition, some are old and moldy.

Halloween doesn’t make much sense post-apocalypse. If there’s any candy left, it’s all rotten. It’s not practical for kids to trick-or-treat for baked goods and apples, the few sweets Jackson has to offer. So instead, Maria and Tommy are hosting a Halloween potluck at their home. All are invited and encouraged to dress up, bring food. The party’s tonight.

“Who knows,” Joel mumbles, “Just how it was.”

“Did you dress all slutty too?”

“‘Course I did. Turned all kinds of tricks back in my prime.”

“Then here–”, you toss Joel a nurse costume, “Be a slutty nurse for the party.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

You snicker to yourself as you sort the piles. You’ve got girls’ and boys’ costumes sorted by size, and along with mens’ and women’s. “What are you gonna dress up as, then?”

“I dunno. Do I have to?”, Joel asks, “I don’t even wanna go.”

“Too bad, you have to. And you have to dress up, too. It’s mandatory.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “What are you going as, then?” you shrug in response. Joel tosses you a costume, the guy in the picture seemingly wearing a sort of hat shaped like a thumb. “Knucklehead’, it reads. So fucking stupid. “Get it?”

“Ha-ha,” you throw the costume back in his direction. The costumes are all sorted now, so Joel bags up each pile to take to Maria. “Do you want any help with those bags?” you ask.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.”

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Depends. How slutty you dressin’?” Joel opens the door and grabs the bags of costumes.

“You know, the usual. Lingerie and cat ears.”

“Mmm. Definitely stayin’ home, then. Get the door for me?” Joel asks as he’s standing in the doorway with the bags in his hands.

“Sure,” you nod. And as Joel leaves and you shut his door, his flannel draped over a chair catches your eye. You have the best costume idea.

–

You get to Maria and Tommy’s around six. Tommy greets you at the door, hair slicked back and wearing a cape, his usual toothy grin enhanced by plastic fangs. There’s red makeup resembling dripping blood from the corners of his mouth. “Hey you,” he says. “What do we have here?”

You clear your throat and speak in a lower affectation, “Shut up and quit smilin’,” before breaking into a fit of giggles.

Tommy laughs too. “Joel?”

“Bingo,” you reply. You’re wearing Joel’s flannel and a simple pair of jeans, with an exaggerated scowl.

“Costume is spot on, ‘cept for one thing,” you raise your eyebrows and Tommy continues, “You’re much easier on the eyes than he is.”

“Oh, stop it,” you blush and smack his arm. “Speaking of, Joel here yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Off in the kitchen or something. He’s gonna hate your costume, darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ hate it.”

“Good, that was the plan,” you smile mischievously.

“I like how you roll, sister,” Tommy drawls. “An’ in fact…” Tommy looks around himself before moving a hand to your waist and stealthily guiding you to a nearby bedroom, his baby’s nursery.

“What are we doing, Tommy?”

“Shh, be cool, be cool,” Tommy tells you. He loves your costume, but he’s got an idea. A great idea, a way to improve it. He picks up a bottle of baby powder from the changing table and sits you down, then sprinkles some in your hair and combs it through with his fingers. “Now we’re cookin’,” he says. “Gotta get you that silver fox look, like Joel.”

“Ahh,” you hum in agreement. Should have thought of that one. That’s good.

“And–” Tommy continues, “You gotta talk like him too. You know how to do that?”

“Sure,” you clear your throat and speak in a low tone again, mocking Joel. “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you–”

“Oh, very close,” Tommy laughs, “Nah, you gotta get southern on his ass, sweetheart. You know what I’m sayin’?” you shake your head no. “That’s okay. M’gonna teach ya.”

Tommy spends the next ten minutes running through a list of southern words and phrases, teaching you how to speak in a southern accent. At the end, you’re both in a fit of giggles. “God, sweetheart, I love ya. Joel’s gonna shit a brick.”

You come out of the nursery with Tommy and make your way into the kitchen where Joel’s sitting. He’s at the counter, alone, snacking on some carrot cake. You’re still trying to compose yourself, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Howdy, pardner.”

“Uh, hi,” Joel eyes you and Tommy suspiciously. He does not like the way you’re both smiling, definitely causing trouble. “The hell are you two so happy about?”

“Nothin’.” you say, looking at Tommy. He subtly nods in approval. Don’t pronounce the ‘ing’ at the end of those words. It’s ‘In’. Nothing, nothin’. Fucking, fuckin’. Something, somethin’. “Uh, Joel, what’s your costume?”

“What’s it look like? I’m a pirate,” he grumbles. He’s got an…interesting take on a pirate costume. He’s wearing a plain button down shirt, striped pajama bottoms, and a long red tie tied around his tummy. You’re pretty sure there was a men’s pirate costume in the pile that you had sorted from earlier.

Tommy brushes your hair from your ear and whispers something. You smile, then speak to Joel. “Well, don’t you look cuter than a dimple on a bug’s ass.”

“Did you just have a stroke?” Joel squints at you, “Wait a fuckin’ second–that’s my shirt.”

You look down at your shirt in mock surprise, “Well slap butter on my ass and call me a biscuit! I guess it is your shirt, Joel!”

Joel’s blushing, redder than a tomato. His flannel is ill fitting, but to Joel, it looks perfect on you. He swallows thickly. You’ve got one less button closed than what he wears, and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes fall lower. “Where did you even–never mind. You - I told you - God dammit, this ain’t–”

“This ain’t funny,” you interrupt, matching his tone perfectly.

Tommy’s giggling like an idiot next to you, then faces his palm up by his hip for a high five. You slap his palm and this enrages Joel, who glares at Tommy. “Don’t encourage this. The fuck is the matter with you?” Goddamn little brothers.

“What, don’t y’all like my costume? I’m you.”

“‘Course you are,” Joel grumbles. “Though a witch would be more fitting,” He looks at you closer, “What the hell is wrong with your hair?”

“I’m a silver fox just like you, Joel.”

Joel rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do not call me that. I can’t even look at you right now. Jesus Christ.” He eats the last of his cake, then stomps off, away from you and Tommy.

“You,” a voice interrupts. It’s Maria, dressed as a black cat. She’s so cute. “You two are playing with fire. Tommy, leave this girl alone. Joel’s gonna wring her neck.”

Tommy shrugs. “It was her idea.”

Maria doesn’t care. She smacks Tommy upside the head and ushers him towards the living room leaving you all by yourself. Tommy turns back to you, busted, he mouths. So you look for Joel.

You make your way through the living room, check the porch. It’s only when you’re in a hallway that you feel a strong hand grip your forearm and drag you to the guest bedroom that you realize where Joel stormed off to. “What in tarnation?” you exclaim, and Joel locks the door. “This bedroom ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Shut up and take off your pants. Do it now,” he grunts. You smirk and begin unbuttoning your - Joel’s - shirt. “Pants,” he scolds you, annoyed. “You keep my shirt on for this.”

You quit unbuttoning the shirt, “Thought you don’t like my costume?”

“I don’t,” Joel replies. You can see the tent in his pants, how achingly hard he is. You smirk. He’s all pissed off and worked up, a brutal combination. Your favorite combination. All because you’re wearing his shirt. Not really, though. You know the gray hair and the southern accent are what’s really pissing him off. You wearing his shirt is just fine.

In a fit of giggles, you can barely get the words out, “You’re hard as a match–wait,” you pause, unable to control your laughter. You catch your breath before continuing, “Shit fire and save matches, you’re hard as a r–”

“Don’t have time for this,” Joel grumbles. In one fell swoop, he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your panties down your legs, tossing them elsewhere. He shoves you on the bed before kneeling at the edge, pulling you by your hips. The cold air has your skin erupting in goosebumps that are then soothed by his hot breath on your thighs, as he presses sloppy kisses into your skin. “You have no–” he kisses your other thigh, “Fuckin’ idea,” then drags his tongue up your soft flesh, “What you’re doin’ to me, wearin’ my shirt like that. M’gonna devour you, sweetheart.”

Joel startles you by licking a long, fat stripe right up your hot and slick core, groaning as he tastes you, “Fuck,” you moan, fingers carding through Joel’s hair. You know this is getting tired. Seriously. Time and place. But even with his head between your thighs, you can’t stop. You struck gold. “Heaven to Betsy, it seems I have a visitor!”

Joel sighs as he pulls away from your core and stares at you, unimpressed. “You done yet?”

“Darn tootin’,” You get no reaction from Joel. “Yes...I’m done.”

“So fuckin’ sick of you. S’not funny. I don’t talk like that.”

And he’s right back where he was. First he’s inhaling you, your sweet scent, he licks another long stripe up your pussy, his tongue soft and firm against your core. He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning into your skin and savoring the way you taste. He keeps one arm wrapped around your thigh while the other is pulling down his striped pajama bottoms just over his cock, the waistband resting beneath his balls. Joel spits on your pussy, then drags his thumb up and down your core, collecting the mixture on his fingertips before spreading it on his cock. He grips himself tight, stroking himself up and down as his tongue teases your entrance, exploring your sex.

You can feel his shoulder jerk with every movement of his hand on his cock. You wish you could see it, his shaft shiny with your slick and the head red and swollen.

“Good lord,” Joel whispers against you. He eats you like he’s starved, eyes closed and lips wrapped around your clit. His fingertips dig into your thighs at a bruising pressure, his nose is buried in the coarse hair that covers your mound. “Fuckin’ good…so fuckin’ good,” Your skin, your musk, your arousal. He’s addicted to it, addicted to the taste of your pleasure. And Christ, the way his flannel drapes over your stomach, peeking over the tops of your thighs. He could die a happy man right here, between your thighs.

“Joel,” you cry, rocking your hips against his face. You’re moving too much. He bites your thigh and holds you firmer, his bicep flexing against you under the soft fabric of his shirt.

He alternates between lapping at your dripping core, sucking your sensitive clit, and fucking you on his tongue. Whatever he wants to do to you, because this is his treat. His.

“Yeah Joel, right there,” you whimper. You can feel it in your thighs, your gut, that familiar closeness is back. Under Joel’s tongue, you’re unraveling, coming undone for him. “M’so close.”

“This ain’t about you,” he growls. “Y’got yer kicks already, didn’t you? Teasin’ me in your little getup. Pokin’ fun and bein’ mean t’me.”

“No, Joel, I wasn’t–”

“I don’t care, sweetheart,” Joel says softly as he works himself. You hear the slick sounds of his fist slapping against his skin. “I don’t care. This ain’t about you. M’doin’ this f’me. Don’t you dare come.”

But you do. Not out of defiance, not to piss him off further. You just can’t help yourself. The way he purrs and growls into your skin, the way his arm holds you in place so firm. And his tongue, working pure fucking magic against you. Your orgasm ripples through you violently, taking you by storm. It feels hot and electric, intense and overpowering. Generously, he works you through it, licking and lapping at you, pulling every ounce of pleasure from your body that he can get. Static rings in your ears and you’re limp, pliant on the bed, eyes closed in pure bliss.

When you finally open your eyes, you realize Joel is standing above you, breathing heavily. Cock still achingly hard in his fist. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” he breathes.

“It was an accident,” you reply.

“Accident, my ass.” You bite your lip to hide your smirk. Joel knows that look on your face. Mischief. He reads you like a book, knows that you’re not done with your little act as you pull him onto the bed, flip him on his back and mount him. He knows exactly what you’re planning. Something about saving a horse, riding a cowboy. Of course you are. God, you’re exhausting.

You reach between your bodies and line his head up with your entrance, then sink down on him. Slowly, savoring the way he stretches you out. It hurts. He didn’t use his fingers on you. But you’re committed to what you have planned.

“Joel,” you breathe, rocking your hips slowly against him. “I have something to tell you.”

“What could you possibly need to tell me now, motormouth?” That devious smirk on your face…he knows what you’re about to say, answering his own question. He rolls his eyes, exasperated, “For the love of god…Go on, then. Get it out of your system, numb nuts.”

“YEEEE HAWWW!” you squeal, and Joel lunges forward to wrap a hand over your mouth. He did not think you were gonna be that loud. The party’s loud, but not that loud. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “The fuck is the matter with you? You cannot scream like that…Christ almighty.”

He flips you over, pulls out of you and rips the tie off of his belly. “My fuckin’ turn, now. Drivin’ me to drink,” He stuffs it into in your mouth, “Can you breathe?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he retaliates. He wraps your legs around his waist and lines up with your entrance once more, burying himself to the hilt in a quick shove with his hips. You gasp, your voice muffled by his tie.

He finds his pace quickly, pistoning into you at a devastating pace. Hard and fast and deep, like you love. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he pants. “You’re impossible. You know that? Impossible.”

You can’t smile, can’t speak. With your mouth stuffed full you can do is look at him with wide eyes, and all Joel can think is god, you have no business being so pretty and so fucking irritating at the same time. Joel’s shirt is buttoned halfway up your body and he watches your tits bounce under the fabric with every thrust of his hips. Your nipples taut and hard, the shirt falling away from your torso and framing your body just so, like you’re a painting, just for him.

“God,” Joel grunts. You wrap your legs tighter around him, hold his forearms that cage your head. You look into his eyes as he fucks you, his usual sparkling brown eyes nearly black with lust. And it might get you into trouble, but you need more. Need to feel him, taste him. Pulling the tie out of your mouth, you lift your head, kissing and sucking up his neck and all the way to his jaw and his cheek still slick with your own arousal. You taste yourself on his skin as you kiss his face, lips just centimeters away from meeting his own.

Joel makes all sorts of strangled noises as he pounds into you. His muscles tense and you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen inside you, and with his last few strong and deep thrusts, he spills into you. He comes hard, painting your walls with rope after rope of his hot seed.

He catches his breath on top of you as you trace lazy patterns into his back and his scalp, his head resting against the mattress. Completely drained of his energy. You can feel him going soft. “Joel, I need a rag or something before I make a mess on this bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees his tie in his peripheral vision. He takes it,

“You weren’t s’posed to take this out of your mouth,” he says, “Least you stayed quiet for once. Maybe you could be quiet the rest of the night, hm?” he mumbles as he pulls out of you, wiping you down gently with the tie. He folds it up to keep the mess of his spend contained. “You do that for me?”

You smile. If only you weren’t all out of the sayings that Tommy taught you anyway. Joel helps dress you in your pants and underwear again, straightens out the buttons on your flannel. He tells you that you don’t have to give it back to him as you comb your fingers through his hair, taming it. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“You really didn’t like my costume?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiles for the first time tonight, and exaggerates his own southern accent. “Bless your heart.”

You tilt your head, confused, “What’s that one?”

“What, Tommy didn’t teach you that one?” You mumble a no and Joel hums. “S’a classic.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Well, I’d tell you to ask Tommy but you’re not allowed to hang out with him anymore,” Joel says. “Fuckin’ corrupted you. An’ it’s a shame, ‘cause I was startin’ to like you. God, he’s an asshole,” he complains, “And you are too, for that matter.”

You smile to yourself, then kiss Joel’s cheek before getting up to leave. Before you open the door, you turn to Joel, “Your costume sucks, by the way. Not even close to a pirate.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replies. “Now get lost, you.”

When you leave, Joel adjusts his clothes. He clutches his tie in his hand, then leaves the bedroom, crashing into someone. It’s Tommy, wearing a shit-eating grin. Joel sighs, “What’d you teach her now?”

Tommy smirks. “Nothin’,” then slaps Joel on the ass, and Joel turns beet red. “Yee-haw, cowboy.”

Please please please reblog, send me asks, comment, let me know what you thought! Love your thoughts. It keeps me going and motivated to write for you all.

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #mall rats #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel #halloween special #joel miller fic #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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cherrywrecked · 9 months

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bite me — yu jimin.

summary: reader's favorite time of the year is halloween, her favorite mythical creatures are vampires and her fuck buddy, karina, has a developing biting kink.

cw: g!p idol!karina. vampires. aphrodisiac. rough sex with rina. pussy slapping. dirty talking. no condoms. dom!karina.

halloween was long far done, but to you, every day was halloween. i mean, it is your favorite time of the year; anybody could be anyone. you can be a sexy doctor or nurse, a slutty firefighter, a cheerleader, hell, you can even be a fucking vampire. everybody could wear whatever we want with zero judgement and that's what you liked about halloween best. but i honestly you won halloween 2023. you were so committed to it, you even got vampire fangs. crazy? maybe, but your sexual partner loved it best. she only saw it online, but still, who's crazier between the two of you?

karina had been away for a few months for their tour and unfortunately, you weren't together last halloween, but she's now home for the holidays, and it wouldn't be karina if she didn't have anything prepared for me when you got to her apartment. the moment you walked inside the pad, all you could smell was the enticing scent of a dark, elegant and sexy perfume—it was scented candles. it was all over the hallway, as if forming a path for you to walk through. just a few steps away from me was her table and there was a glass of wine atop of it with a note which read, “come straight to my room after you're done with this.” you took your time with the wine, but as soon as you were done with it, you went straight to her room which you didn't have a hard time looking for.

there, karina was sitting on a single couch, a leg crossed over the other. she looked stunning with her black jeans and tight crop top that hugged her beautiful frame. “took you a while since i heard you enter.” she said as she got up from the couch and slowly walked towards you. “it's been a while.” she whispered, face close to yours. she looked so pretty but you started feeling lightheaded and moreover, hot. “karina, why the fuck do you have your ac off?” you asked to which karina only laughed at. she took another step closer, and another, until she pushed you in her bed.

“oh, sweetheart. still as gullible as the first time, aren't you?” she smirked as her index finger traced your chest down to your cleavage through your black lace top. her touch brought shivers down your spine, moreso when she ripped your top open. she was scaring you as you've never seen her like this. “the wine... did you put something in it?” you muttered, biting on your lower lip to bite back the whimpers itching to escape as her fingers played with my nipples. karina smirked, humming. “smart girl, why, is it taking effect already?” you blushed and sure enough, it was. your body was aching for her. instead of replying, you pulled her into a hungry kiss, one arm snaking around her neck as if locking her body close to yours, whilst the other roamed around her body, eventually taking her top off, leaving the both of you now topless.

you felt karina run her tongue along your lips which you then parted and let her in—your tongues danced, fighting for dominance, but you both know she'd win. you can feel yourself get so turned on and wet through your panties just by the kiss. “rina, i need you.” you whispered when she brought her lips to your jaw, tracing the kisses down your neck. she didn't reply, she instead used her hand to cup your womanhood through your panties under your skirt, eliciting a long moan from you. her hands feel so soft against you, you needed more.

moving your hips, you started to hump her palm, palming myself as she kissed your neck, nibbling on patches of your skin to mark her territory. “you enjoy this, don't you? look at your slutty waist, moving on its own.” she chuckled lowly against your ear before pulling away only to take the remaining pieces of clothing off your body. your nipples are so hard and you could already feel your wetness dripping down your cheeks. it's the first time you felt so horny, so needy and all you could think of is her— you wanted her.

“karina, please. i need you. fuck me, mhm? i'll be good. please.” you said as you reached out to hold her. karina only slapped your hands away and roughly spread your legs. she got in between them, her knee pressed against your cunt. you mumbled another profanity and karina's face got closer to you. she only stared at you; “move.” she commanded and you instantly knew what she meant— your hips automatically moved on its own. as if rubbing your clit against her thigh wasn't enough, karina started to slap your mounds alternately. it was too much, your moans started to get higher with every slap. as your skin gets redder with every slap, karina's smirk grew wider—even more when she took notice of the fangs you've had done.

knowing your mounds are already sensitive, karina pulled you in and put one of your nipples into her mouth, licking, sucking and lightly nibbling on it as she played with the other with her hand. karina felt your body shiver, and with one hard suck, your body collapsed on top of her. “you love being a slut for me, mhm?” karina whispered against your skin, earning a loud, whining from you as a response. karina, she thinks—no, she knows she owns your body. she knows it even more than you do, so it wasn't hard for her to know when you're already close to cumming. not saying another word, she used her free hand to palm your clit, making you bury your face against her neck, but the moment she slipped two fingers inside of your hole swiftly which pushed you over the edge, cumming, biting karina's shoulder. she winced it pain, yet groaned from the painful yet pleasurable feeling of your sharp teeth against her soft skin. “rina, rina—!” not even letting you compose yourself, karina started to thrust her fingers in and out roughly of your entrance. collapsing on top of her, pushing her over the bed, your body wiggles, pushing your bottom more against her fingers, grinding against her palm.

“t-that feels s-so good—fuck. more, please! mommy, please, more.” it was the nickname that sparked something in karina. she pulled her fingers out, rolling your bodies over. now with her on top of you, she kisses you on the lips, letting her tongue graze over the sharpness of your fangs. “wait here.” she says as she pulled away, leaving you breathing heavily and still, needy. you started to play with your nipples, tears forming your eyes as you grind your hips against the empty space karina was once were. rubbing your clit, you moaned out her name, and as if on queue, karina was back, naked and a lubricant on her hand. “naughty girl, who told your to touch yourself?” she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, as she opened the bottle of lubricant, smearing some over your sensitive clit, the coldness of the gel making you shiver. hovering over your torso, her dick sticking out, poking against your mouth. “suck.” with sparkly eyes, you looked up at her as you opened your mouth and took her in. you sucked, licking along the tip of her cock, earning a low grown from karina. “mhm, you take me in so good.” she said before thrusting her hips, forcing her full length inside your mouth, deep throating, suffocating you. she pulls herself back, a string of your saliva and her precum trailing from your lips and her tip.

“karina, i need you to fuck me, please.” your voice was weak and shaky, almost sounding like you're about to cry, but it was just from karina teasing her tip against your clit and your entrance. “yeah? beg for it.” karina laughed menacingly while you could only while as you reached your hand out for her, the other pressing her length against your cunt. “rina, baby... mommy, please. please, please! i'm your good girl, please, fuck me.” karina loved it. she loved hearing your voice so needy, she loved looking at your desperate eyes, she loved that you were so desperate for her and only her.

karina didn't waste any more time and slid her length inside of you, making you arch your back while letting out a long, loud moan in pleasure. karina didn't move, letting you adjust to her length, but she let out a chuckle of amusement as you desperately reached your hand for her, eager to hold her—touch her, as if her body's not against yours just yet. karina started to roll her hips, making you wince yet moan out in both pain and pleasure. god, you were so wet for her and karina loved that atop of it all. with or without the fucking drugs, the both of you knew that only she can make you this fucking turned on. karina started to thrust in you, moaning your name every time her length completely disappears inside your cunt. her dick is so big that with every thrust, she hits every fucking spot possible and it's making you insane. you feel so lightheaded and nothing but senseless begging and chants of her name spilled out of your mouth.

“fuck, baby, you're so wet.” she groaned, slapping your cunt in between every word, each slap making you squeal louder and louder, eyes rolling back. “c-close... i'm soso close, rina!” you announced so fucking loud, karina had to cover your mouth with her palm. “cum with me.” she only replied, putting more force into her thrust, each thrust feeling slower yet so much deeper as your walls clenched around her length. karina used her free hand to rub your clit, heightening your pleasure. forcing yourself to open your eyes, you looked up at her through your lust filled eyes as you brought her hand to your neck, choking yourself with it as you get closer to your high. karina took the initiative to do so, making you smile, biting your lower lip and holy fuck. in karina's eyes, you looked the hottest lile that. god, that stupid vampire fang of yours.

feeling a familiar knot forming, karina drops and pushes her mounds against yours, letting your nipples rub against each other. “cum inside—inside! please, i want to feel you, rina! breed me. fucking breed me, please, please—!” through your moans, you managed to beg for her. at this point, karina could only think so little, she wanted you. she wanted you to have her and nobody else. “i'm cumming, baby—fuck. cum with me...! fuck, i'm cumming!” with your face buried onthe crook of her neck, you wrapped your legs around her waist, not wanting her to pull away, chanting her name along with strings of profanities in between your moans. soon enough, the both of you are cumming—karina shooting her load inside of you at the same time you clenched your walls around her length, making her groan out loud. with your teeth dug on her neck, leaving a mark, karina threw her head back, moaning your name in pleasure, whilst your body squirms and trembles under her.

heavy breathing and whispered profanities were shared as you both laid next to each other. "you're mine, understand? you're all mine." karina muttered as she kissed your lips, hands once again roaming your body. "one more."

hehe, this took a while. i got so sick during the holidays, so i couldn't really post it. anyways, happy holidays, my kitties!

#kyna writes #aespa #aespa karina #karina #aespa smut #aespa karina smut #karina smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #gg smut #gxg smut #girl group x reader #aespa x reader #aespa gp #g!p aespa #karina g!p

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shamelessfaceless · 5 months

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Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Series Masterlist

1. The one and only Spider-Woman.

Pairings: WandaNat x F!Spidey!Polish!Reader, OC x Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: When your girlfriend cheated on you, you decided to finally accept Tony Stark's offer.

Warnings: Cheating with man, sad R, Homophobia

Wc: 1.2k

A/n: I will put my whole heart in this series😭 Next parts are gonna be longer.

You promised yourself you would always smile while wearing your mask. For this reason your mask was showing the bottom of your face. It was your own project and it had a special place in your heart. You wanted to show people that nitatter what you are doing, and who you fight with, you will always smile, just be happy that you can protect innocent people. Another reason why you projected your mask like that, was the fact that you have fangs. It's not like you use them often, but they can be really helpful. One little bite, and can paralysis villains for a while. S.H.I.E.L.D knew about your existence, and wanted you to join avengers. They even send to you the one and only Tony Stark with Nick Fury. You decided to wait. It was your last month of school, and you had a girlfriend you didn’t want to leave alone.

You graduated with not so bad grades, and you passed all your exams with almost the best scores in your class. You hoped your girlfriend would be with you, but she texted you at the last minute that she needed to take care of her sick mother. You believed her. How could you not? She was almost the most important person in your life. So in the evening you decided to visit her, her mother knew you really well, and was happy her daughter had someone like you. Well, she didn’t know you were a couple, she was a typical homophobic christian, just like most people in your country.

Only thing in her room you could see was how deep she was in kissing a guy. She didn’t even notice you opened the door to her room. Looking in her cold eyes made your stomach flip. You don't even know how... no, when this happened. You don't know when she met him, when he started being the reason she's smiling everyday, when she stopped caring about you. Only thing you can look at are her sky blue eyes you loved looking at. You were always finding your safe space in her, now the only thing you see in her eyes is how much she is disgusted in you. Her words were something you were expecting. You weren't enough. He is a man, of course she would want to be with him, how could she love a girl? You were just stupid thinking he was just her friend.You tried so much to not end up like before. But everything is always the same. You are trying your best, but they are always choosing someone else, someone who isn't so complicated, someone who is.. pure. The most important, they always will choose someone who will fuck with them after a week of dating. They don't understand why you care about romantic things, when you could just let them fuck you. They are animals chasing their own pleasure, don't giving fuck about true love.

It was the first time when you put on your mask and did wear your bright smile.

There was no reason for you to stay. Your friend moved out a long time ago, and for you, your online friends were enough. Your parents were dead. At least for you. Just like you were dead for them. They didn’t want a Lesbian daughter, and you hated them for all the traumas they gave you. You half lived on the street. Most of the time you were spending in school or saving your country. You showed up in your home only if you needed to take a shower or books for school.

“What are you thinking about kiddo?” Tony asked, putting hand on your back.

“You know, just how my girlfriend cheated on me few hours ago, and now Im part of fucking Avengers” You didn’t even looked at him. You only look at changing numbers signaling that you were higher every second.

After running away from your girlfriend's house, you called Tony. Only thing you wanted was to leave as far away and as fast as you could. Break ups were always hard for you. You just wanted to feel loved, feel important for someone. Looking at the sunset on top of one of the buildings was your way to say goodbye to the country you truly love. You promised yourself, you will start a new and better life. No thinking about the past. You need to let it go, and life looking at the future. You knew it would be hard, but you also knew you needed to do this. There's too many open wounds, just because you couldn’t let go thinking about the past every night.

Pretending to smile while meeting everyone was the hardest part. Pretending to be happy while in the back of your mind the only thing you could think of was your exs, and how you couldn’t be enough for them. Tony left you just when you walked out of the elevator. Steve introduced himself and his friend Bucky. You gave them a polite smile and mumbled your name. You just wanted to go to your room and sleep the rest of the day. Next people that introduced themselves were Clint, Bruce and Sam. Last person was Natasha Romanoff. You learned from her that her wife Wanda is on the mission with Thor.

“I hear slavic accent.”

“Oh, yeah… I'm Polish.”

“Tony was one hundred percent sure you're from Russia.” You hate when people mistake you for Russian. It's not even like your languages sound super alike.

“Chuj.” You said to yourself. “Uhm, nevermind.”You looked at the floor when she looked at you. Natasha just laughed it off and you smiled.

(Chuj - Dick)

“I'm guessing you don’t know where your room is?” When your eyes met her forest green ones, you felt like you couldn’t look away, but you needed to. You didn't want her to take you for a freak.

“Yeah… Stark just left me here, and didn’t show me anything.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come with me. Tony decides that you will take Wanda's old room. We have lived together for the past few years, so her room stood empty. It's next to ours.” She said pointing at one of the doors. “So if you need something you can always knock.”

“So… It was nice to meet the famous black widow.” You opened the door to your room.

“It was nice to meet another spider.” After you closed the door you looked around the room. You didn’t take many things with you, so there wasn’t a lot to unpack. Just some clothes and books. Just a few minutes and everything was in their places. You looked out the window and a few seconds later at mask in your hands.

After a while you were jumping between buildings. It's late at night, so one would rather see you. When you get tired of jumping, running and half flying, you sit at the top of a skyscraper.

“So It will be my new life. The spider-woman saving the world.” You laughed to yourself. “It's almost unbelievable."

TAGLIST:

@marvelwomen-simp @andersonsprincess @leenasayeed @sapphic-simp4015 @taliiiaasteria

#marvel #wanda maximoff #lesbian #lgbtq #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wandanat #wanda x reader

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candiehearts · 1 month

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“I’m gonna get you back.”

Paring: Ex BF Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Summary: The thing about love is that it’s blinding. You never realize how poisonous it is until it’s already stuck its fangs into you.

Logan Howlett was the embodiment of everything you’ve ever loved. And you were the air that the man breathed. But hurt people hurt people.

Everyone knew how much pain you two cause each other, but everyone also knew how much the two of you needed each other — even when you two couldn’t see your future. You would always come back to one another.

Warnings: Toxic Relationships, mentions of death.

Taglist: Just ask to be added.

A/N: Inspired by Taylor Swift — “Imgonnagetyouback”

I could hear the engine of the bike pulling into the school. It could be only one person, the man that stole Scott’s bike, and my heart.

I saw Rouge jump up out of her spot on the couch and run to the door, greeting the man that walked through like he owned the place.

Logan fucking Howlett.

I had told myself that I hated him, that I was over him — but the ache in my chest told me all I needed to know. I had still loved him.

I watched the man leave the X-Men basement, the Wolverine. It was remarkable that he was still alive according to Scott.

“Hey solider.” His attention snapped to me and away from the kids running down the stairs. He took a step to me, looking ready to snap my neck but I just held my hands up in surrender.

“Follow me. I’ll take you to the boss of this place.” I dropped my hands, and waited for him to give the okay. “Who are you.”

“I’m Y/N. You?” I already knew his name, but it was still nice to hear him say it. “Logan.”

I snapped out of my day dream, and hurried to get out of the common area before he decided to make his way over.

“Get to the jet, new mission.”

The professors voice drifted inside my brain, and I was so glad I would be gone while Logan was here.

Rushing down to the basement I hurried into my suit, and walked onto the jet only to be met with the same man I was wanting to avoid.

I kept my gaze to the ground and silently clicked my self in. Not looking his — knowing it would hurt to much.

Jean and Scott loaded onto the jet too, and while they gave us a brief run down on the mission I zoned out, reliving the past.

“I just don’t think he likes me like that. I mean I’ve dropped hints after hints.” I explained to Ororo and Jean. I was doing on of my many rants about Logan. I had come to grow affectionate of him and the despite them trying to encourage my delusions, it wasn’t working.

At some point I just have to accept the facts. Fact is despite how much I wish it I just don’t see Logan Howlett liking me — instead I was convinced he liked Jean. Though I kept that part to myself.

“Why don’t you tell Logan how you feel?” Storm asked and I couldn’t help the sarcasm rolling out of my mouth.

“And what would I say? Hey Logan, I really really like you. Like in a very much romantic way and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, and I can’t even talk to you without my brain turning into a fucking kebab because I’m probably fucking insane. Let’s grab dinner sometime.”

I let out a sigh and felt a headache forming. Though that was washed away by the look of worry on Jean and Ororo faces. “Everything okay?”

“You what?” Pure dread washed over my body at the sound of the voice haunting my dreams. The deep rugged voice that always made me feel alive. I slowly looked over my shoulder to the wolverine.

And instead of being a big girl and dealing with my problems I bolted out of the kitchen and into the hall.

Hot on my heels Logan pulled my arm back and trapped me up against the hallway wall. “In a rush?” I had expected him to be upset, mad, or even regretful but instead all I saw on his face was amusement. “I must say I’m flattered.”

My breath hitched as he leaned his head down to the shell of my ear, whispering. “A pretty girl like you having feeling for me? Dream come true.” His breath fanned over my face — and I could feel my cheeks warming.

“So you’re not mad?” Hint of insecurity ran through my voice. “Quite the opposite. I like you too, pretty girl.”

A warmth spread through my chest — not just of relief but of a caring and calm feeling that felt so ever rushing.

“So wanna grab dinner sometime?”

A hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my day dream. Looking over the man who was the center of my thought stood there. He even had the audacity to smile at me. “We’re here.”

I unbuckled my seat, standing as fast as I could so I could get away from him. However that only made me dizzy and stumble — right into his arms.

“Easy there, pretty girl.” I started to push myself away but his grip on me tightened. And a look of seriousness washed over his face. “I missed you, you know?” I could have sworn uncertainty or more like insecurity wavers his voice. But I must’ve imagined it — after all Logan Howlett doesn’t do ‘this’.

I pushed away from his chest harder, “you walked away.” With that I brushed past him and made my way outside with the others.

“Looks like it’s really over this time.” Ororo voice washed through my head, and I looked over at her. “We weren’t ever right for each other.” Is all I told her — even if the words pained me to say it was the truth I’ve come to believe.

“Why are you with me when all you want is her?!” I asked, anger and hurt roughing my voice as tears fell down my cheeks.

“And why can’t you just drop it?!” I don’t know who started yelling first, but it’s been hours. Logan was calling out for Jean with such a loving voice in his sleep, it made me nauseous. He never held that much care for me in his voice — he never loved me like her.

“You’re not even denying it!” He wasn’t even trying to justify or explain it to me. He just expected me to roll over and forget about it like I was some dog.

He walked grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. “Where are you going?!” I asked him, it was late and I didn’t want him leaving the mansion. “Out, god I have to get away from you. I’m done with this. We’re done.”

We were in fact not done. He came back apologized the it happened all over again. Like a cycle on repeat. We’d have a nasty fight — break up, then it repeat. Until I finally had enough courage to end it completely, it really I guess Logan ended it, I just didn’t go after him.

“We should all split up. Find all the works, guards, and kids.” We were in a mutant trafficking ring. And even though this place appeared empty, we’d be sure to run into trouble at some point.

“Jean your with me, Ororo with Logan. Y/N you good on your own?” I gave Scott a confirming nod and we all went in different directions.

The halls were quiet too quiet. I could see, hear, or find another kid but as I walked further down I did hear ticking. It was faint but as i opened another door the ticking was louder and it was ten times faster.

Before I could scream all I heard was a loud bam as I focused my power on absorbing the energy of the bomb. Though just when I thought I had it under control a burning sensation filled my body inside out and I felt my self slam against a wall — blacking out.

Logan POV

We walked the only people we could find out side the base, meeting up with Scott and Jean. They found the kids and instead of a “mission accomplished” the two of them had a worried look on their face.

“Can any of y’all get in contact with Y/N.”

That was a sentence that changed my life. It was like a chain reaction. Cause right after that a big explosion came from the left side of the base.

Y/N.

I didn’t think nor wait before running right back I , right to the explosion, right to her.

Dammit I knew not to let her go off by herself. I know she didn’t want to talk to me, I know she was still mad at me — that’s why I let her go off. I should have trusted my instincts. I should have never left her, and not just this time.

The place was on fire, and I could see rubbles everywhere, but I couldn’t see her. I made my way over to the brunt of the explosion and I felt sick when I saw her laying there.

She was still so still, and I felt myself stubble to the ground. I brushed a strand of her hair out of her beautiful face — carful to be gentle.

“Y…Y/N?” I felt my breathing become irradiated as my voice broke. I could feel the tears began to form, but I swallowed whatever self pity I had, and picked her up.

“I got you, I got you honey. Come on — let’s go home, pretty girl.”

I walked over blacked rubble — and carried her out and onto the jet. Never letting go of her even when Jean was doing everything she can right stabilize her.

I wanted to tell her that I was home for good. That I’m better now — that I’m right for her. That I’m a good guy, the guy she deserves.

I made do many mistakes, and all I want to do is make them right. So I can be with her. I know our relationship isn’t something you can immediately fix, but I want to fix it. And fuck I might no longer be able too.

Your POV

I watched, my vision blurred with tears as Logan put the last of the things he needed in his bag.

“Logan.” I hugged his back as he zipped up his bag. My voice trembled, and I bit my lip for a moment before continuing. “Please don’t go. I need you — I love you.” It was silent between us, and we stayed like that for an extra moment before he removed my hands and made his way out our bedroom door.

I followed after him, dread all throughout my body and soul. “Please don’t walk away.” I begged.

He opened the entrance door, and he stood still for a moment.

“If you walk out that door don’t expect me to just be waiting for you. You walk away and I won’t be here withering away waiting for you to return. This is the time to choose — if you want me, us.”

He didn’t say anything, he just walked out.

Beeping filled my ears, before I slowly opened my eyes. My mouth felt dry — and I tried to sit, only causing a wave of pain throughout my body.

“Might want to take it slow, Y/N.” I heard the professor say causing me to look over to him. I went to lift my hand — to rub the tiredness away, but I felt someone holding it.

I looked to my side to find Logan sleeping with his head on my bed, while he held my hand tightly.

The door opened and the entire team walked into the room, a smile across their faces. “You’re awake.” Scott pointed out the ever so obvious, while Jean checked my vitals and Ororo hugged me lightly.

I heard a deep groan coming from Logan before he started to wake himself up.

It took him a moment to process I was actually awake before he jumped up out his chair and started to become a worried mother.

“Are you okay? You in pain?” At the reminder of the pain I shifted uncomfortably. “You snore.” Is all I told him before I tried to get up.

“Lay back down, Y/N.” Doing as told I listened to the professor talk. “That explosion was to wipe out the entire base. You absorbed quite a bit of energy from that bomb, and when it became to much you essentially started to pop like ballon. You’re quite lucky to be alive.”

“Thanks professor.”

Just then everyone besides Logan started to leave the room, leaving just me and him. And all the complicated emotions.

“You scared me.” He was the first one to speak, his voice was quiet, trying to lead the conversation a gentle as possible. However nothing about us is gentle.

“Good.” It’s all I said, but I wanted to scream at him — about how scared I was when he crushed my heart.

“I’m sorry, god I’m so sorry. Not just for leaving, but for all the fights, the yelling, all of it. I didn’t treat you like you deserved, and I hate myself for it.” He breathed his shakily before continuing. “I’m not the most gentle man, I’m a solider, and I wish I could’ve been better for you sooner.”

I closed my eyes, not wanting him to see how much he had affected me. “You say ‘sooner’ as if you’re the good guy now.”

“I can be, I just need another chance.” Pleads entered his tone as he grabbed my hand again. “I love you, and I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I will be better — I am better now.”

I kept quiet not knowing what to say, and after a moment he spoke up again.

“I left so I could become a better man for you. Went on this whole journey, on why I am the way I am. On why I always need to fight, and can’t ever listen. You needed better, and baby I couldn’t give it to you the way I was. That’s why I left — and I didn’t tell you because I knew you would convince me you were happy as we were. But you weren’t.”

“I swear this to you. I’m gonna get you back, and when I do — I’ll be so fucking good. I’ll be the good guy.”

I looked over to him, and to my surprise his eyes were watering. And his lip trembled while he bit it.

“I can’t just give you another chance, when I have no idea if things between us will ever be good. I told you if you left me I wouldn’t wither away waiting for you, and then you walked out. I can’t just give you another chance.” Despite how much I want too.

He was quiet for a moment, as he kissed my forehead, and then kissed the back of my hand.

“I’ll prove to you that we’re meant for each other, I promise you Imma get you back.”

—

After you were finally healed you were welcomed back into your room with flowers waiting at your door, with it just a card with a note saying.

“I love you.”

And maybe, just maybe you and Logan were finally right for each other at the right time.

He went on to prove that for the rest of your life, he truly did become better. Everyone could see it.

—

Logan Howlett M.List, Navigation — other works!

A/N: I won’t lie — I had such a longer fic written about Logan’s and your journey on both of you becoming better, but it deleted. So this is the shortened version.

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #the wolverine #wolverine #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #hugh x reader #hugh jackman

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jaylaxies · 1 year

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SUBSCRIBER BENEFITS

PAIRING: camboy!sunghoon × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, excessive usage of nicknames, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, breeding, slight bondage, mentions of obsession, just smut overall.

WC: 2865 words

SYNOPSIS: sunghoon is the prettiest boy you had ever laid your eyes on and you’d do anything to have him all to (in) yourself.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! it’s just a really messy thought i’ve tried to put into words! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <33

He’s beautiful. Soft pink lips which stretched into the sweetest smile a man could provide you with. Sweet nectar dripped from his honey brown eyes. His supple skin resembling porcelain as you watch the man show off his abs on the monitor of your PC screen, the lights being that of dim red colour, only accentuating his muscles, which flexed with apiece movement of him.

It was Park Sunghoon—your favourite and the only camboy that piqued your interest. He was truly a work of art, displaying his perfectly sculpted body for everyone to see.

As for you, you’re the textbook definition of a spoiled rich girl who paid Sunghoon more than anyone in their sane mind would in just a single livestream, which didn’t even provide you with a visual of anything other than his face and torso.

Despite him stroking his cock smugly, he made sure to hide it from the view of the camera, which drove you insane to the point you were ready to throw all your money his way, becoming his top subscriber.

A moan left your lips, hearing him breathe out filthy words which were always effective in getting you off, the phallic shoved deep in your cunt only being a help to you. Sending him another big tip in hopes of him acknowledging you, you waited to see him smirk at the notification, not caring about the other comments flooding through his window.

“That’s a generous sum you’ve sent me, kitten,” he chuckled, the nickname making your pussy flutter, “no requests from your side, darling?” He asked, smirking subtle enough for it to look attractive.

That’s what you oh so obsessively want—his attention on you.

So you type out as fast as you can.

yourkittenxo69: a private session with you, that’s what i want

Your request was bold, almost being perceived as a demand, which only intrigued him.

Sunghoon never did private shows, or gave attention to any particular person in his lives. Despite it all, he was the most popular camboy on the site, surpassing everyone by just showing them his body, paired with his dirty talk. You hated how everyone wanted him, especially when you wanted him all to yourself.

He licked his bottom lip while reading your comment, “Sorry, kitten. I don’t do private shows.”

yourkittenxo69: I’ll pay you

You typed out with a smirk, gasping when the dildo in you started vibrating just how you liked it, then you proceeded to type out the amount of money you were willing to pay.

To some, it would take years to earn that amount of money but to you, it was your monthly pocket money, which you didn’t bother spending on Sunghoon.

Naturally, the shock was evident on his face because no one in their right mind would offer someone such a huge sum for a private show. It almost felt like free money to Hoon, and so he smiled, tongue tracing his fang-like canines.

“You got yourself a deal, kitten.”

It was the first time you’d seen Sunghoon covered up, clad in white button up with the top three buttons left open. With his hair parted to the side, you could get a clear view of his face, but your eyes were focused on his arms, courtesy of him rolling up the sleeves.

Given that you couldn’t show him your face, you resorted to typing out fast, yet you put efforts into wearing the newest addition to your lingerie set even though it wouldn’t be visible to him.

“You have me all to yourself now,” he spoke up, tone cocky with how much you wanted his attention.

yourkittenxo69: and that’s how it should be. Undress for me pretty boy

He scoffed out a laugh, knowing exactly that he needs to cater to your wishes, “as your wish, kitten,” he whispered.

Your attention was immediately captured by his slender fingers, which took their time to unbutton the shirt, providing you with the clear view of his torso, leaving him in nothing but his pants.

The wetness in between your legs growing per second as you pleasured yourself alongside, eyes fixated on the screen.

yourkittenxo69: your pants come off next

He grinned, “why? Wanna see how big my cock is?” He clicked his tongue, “what’s the point, baby? When you can’t even touch me from there,” his smirk was wide.

His voice was condenscending, as if he couldn’t miss a single chance to mock you, which only fucked with your mind to an even greater extent.

yourkittenxo69: just do as i say, you’re getting paid for it

A laugh escaped his lips as his fingers filled with the button on his jeans, opening it and sliding out of his jeans in an agonizingly slow manner, leaving him with his boxers and big imprint of his cock, a strangled moan leaving your mouth at the sight.

“Like it, kitten?” He raised his brows, self aware of the effect his body had on people.

You had to resort to using your vibrator for a release, but more than that, you wanted to meet Sunghoon in the flesh, to have his cock buried inside your leaking cunt.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was intrigued, his own mind forcing him to break rules for you. Why? Because he wanted to fuck some sense into your spoiled mind. Maybe, just maybe if you rile him enough, you’ll get exactly what you’re aiming for.

yourkittenxo69: won't show me what’s hidden under your boxers now, pretty boy?

“Why? Do you wanna be fucked dumb with it? Is that what you want, kitten?” He pressed, getting closer to the screen, making your heart beat out of your chest with anticipation, but you weren’t the one to give up, pushing his buttons would be the key to your success.

His jaw clenched with each comment you posted, fists forming out of anger.

yourkittenxo69: yeah, won’t you fuck me dumb?

yourkittenxo69: are you scared to show the world your teeny tiny lil cock? Is that why you keep it in?

yourkittenxo69: forget the distance, you can’t even make me cum by fucking me

His voice was scary low as he scoffed, “getting ahead of ourselves now? Oh, kitten, give me your address if you dare instead of sitting behind a scene. I’ll see how you walk when I’m done with you,” he challenged, his slutry tone making you clench around your toy.

That was your plan from the start, however you never expected him to give in this quickly, given that he wasn’t the one to make exceptions, yet he broke all the rules for you.

With a blend of confidence and unadulterated need to have him, you swiftly typed out your address, making his lips turn into a seductive grin.

“See you tomorrow then, kitten.”

He wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or his need to tame your brat ass which led him your way, money was only an addition to it. He spent an unconventional amount of time pondering upon the hasty choices he had made.

He had a total of three things he knew about you, first being the fact that you were an adult, second that you were a female, and third—your address.

Not to mention you were wealthy, his subconscious reminded him.

It was risky, going to a stranger’s place, or in your case, a whole penthouse, yet he wanted to see the person behind the user yourkittexo69 and fuck some sense into her, even though he admit how it certainly would be better if you’d be as appealing to him as you sound bratty in general.

That’s exactly how he found himself in front of your door, dressed in black button up and pants paired with a few chains and rings which completed his look.

“Fuck it.” He rang the bell, waiting for the door to be opened by you, however he was greeted by a woman in what seemed to be working uniforms and hair tied up in a bun.

“Welcome, sir. She’s been expecting you, please head up the stairs,” she acknowledged his presence, getting out of the house as you had ordered her to, for privacy's sake.

Sunghoon thanked the women, eyes wandering around the fully decorated place of yours, each corner screaming wealth and money.

Walking up the stairs, he noticed the big chandelier and a series of paintings lined up right before he reached your room, knocking on the big wooden door twice.

“Come in,” your voice came out muffled due to the thick door, but understandable nevertheless.

Biting his bottom lip, he got inside your room and finally took you in for the first time—his eyes eyebrows raising in the process, a cocky expression taking over his face.

The reason? It was you. The skimpy white lingerie set you wore didn’t leave much to the imagination, adding to that, you had done justice to your username by wearing a collar and cat ears just for the pretty boy in front of you, him noticing the tail only ignited the need to destroy your cunt even further.

Your lips curled up into a sly smile, “didn’t think you’d actually come here, Park Sunghoon,” you mused, seeing him walk straight towards your bed, where you were spread out for him, “guess you really wanna fuck me.”

He didn’t speak a word, getting rid of his shirt as he proceeded to unbutton it. Just the action shut you up, no sign of humour on his face. Despite the spontaneity of this situation, it felt as if the pace was perfect, your desire colliding with reality for once.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, finally witnessing him in front of you.

The night held a distinct allure to it, especially when the candles that you had lit spread the aroma which only aroused you further, making you gulp your nervousness down.

He climbed up the bed, your breath hitching with how he stopped when he was right above you, his nose touching yours as he finally chuckled, “such a pretty face with that bratty mouth, yeah?”

You yelped when he held your wrists above your head, a whimper leaving your mouth as he tied your wrists up with his shirt, “didn’t know you were into this,” you giggled.

In an instant, his fingers were gripping your chin, “did I give you permission to talk?” His condenscending voice sent a shiver down your spine and you felt enthralled for a second before chuckling in his hold.

“Since when do I need your permission—”

The next second, his slender fingers were wrapped around your neck, applying just enough pressure to put his point forward.

“You’re not allowed to fucking talk unless I ask you to,” he seethed out, not missing the excitement in your eyes, “is that clear?”

You looked at him with hooded eyes, a slutry expression taking over your face, “yes, daddy.”

He chuckled, stroking your hair and reaching to play with your cat ears, “y’know what, kitten?” He rasped, scanning your features, “you should be punished for being such a bratty kitten.”

You squealed when he roughly switched up the positions so that you were bent over his lap with his hand groping your ass, the air around you thickening.

Driven by a primal longing, Sunghoon didn’t wait before he started spanking your ass, “count,” he ordered, “this one’s for being a brat.”

“Fuck! One,” you hissed out, biting your lips to conceal a moan.

Another slap, “this one’s for talking back.”

A string of curses left your lips, “t—two!”

The slap resonated in the room, “for cursing.”

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together when he continued his ministrations, starting from one whenever you messed up, finally soothing his large hands over your ass.

“Fucked out already? Oh, baby, I’m just getting started,” he said, sliding his fingers down to meet your soaked panties, he clicked his tongue, “we don’t need this,” he whispered.

“Sunghoon—”

“Shh.” He ripped your panties into two, making your eyes go wide, “that’s not what you call me, kitten,” he rasped, pushing his two fingers into your cunt, the wetness allowing him to slide in easily.

Your head felt dizzy, especially when you couldn’t move your hands or say anything that would make sense. No one’s ever been this way with you—demanding and in control, and he was simply fucking you with his fingers.

Yet, you didn’t want to back down now, “is that the best you can do, daddy?” You mocked him just when you felt your high nearing in hopes of him speeding up.

It resulted in him sliding his fingers out of your pussy much to your dismay, earning a pathetic whine out of you. He easily turned you around, getting on top of you, your body shivering with anticipation as he bent down, his nose caressing your ear as he whispered, “I’d give you my best but bad kittens don’t deserve shit.”

His fingers moved even slower, brushing against your clit in an agonizingly slow pace, “tell me, doll face, do you deserve to be fucked?”

“Y—yes, please! I’ll be good,” you cried out, squirming and bothered at the orgasm denial.

“Doesn’t sound very convincing to me, I guess the kitten doesn’t want it after all,” he chuckled, knowing that you had given up, especially when he pushed you that deep into your sub space, his thumb rubbing featherlight circles on your cunt.

“P—please, daddy! I swear I—oh fuck! I won’t act up anymore, I’ll listen to you, please just—just fuck me!” You whined.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He pulled you closer by your collar, “now, be good and take it all like a good kitten.”

You were too fucked out to notice him getting out of his pants, not once getting a look at his cock. He deliberately prolonged his actions to torment you, just when you were reaching your high with his fingers again, but that wasn’t something he’d allow.

He was swift to remove his fingers from your cunt, his movements deliberate when he positioned himself in front of your pussy, thrusting it all in one go.

The sensation was quite literally exquisite, as if your whole body felt how big he was, lewd voices leaving your lips, eyes rolling back, your toes curling and back arching.

“Daddy—so, so big,” you mumbled mindlessly as he focused on snapping his hips even faster, giving you no time to adjust to his length when he bottomed out, hitting your g-spot seamlessly.

“Yeah? Too big for you, kitten? That’s not what you were saying the other day.” He held your wrists up, eyes focused on your tears of pleasure.

“I—was so wrong, daddy, I’m sorry—” his movements didn’t give you a chance to speak.

Your vulnerable voice only fueled his desire, his movements intensifying when he bent down to suck on your clavicle, paying attention to your neglected tits by pinching them, rolling the nub between his fingers.

“Wanna ruin you,” he groaned, “will make sure you don’t fucking walk,” with another thrust, you found yourself blacking out with how euphoric the feeling of falling apart on his cock was.

But he was far from done with you, not giving you a second to breathe as he striked harder with each thrust of his, making you squirm and scream, your mascara running down your cheeks with your tears and your whole body felt as if it was on fire.

He filled you up with his cum, stuffing you full and yet again, he wasn’t done with you.

He tapped on your cheek twice, making you look at him, “swallow,” he whispered, spitting into your mouth and observing it going down your tongue before you gulped it all.

“Good girl,” he praised, when you reached your high for the second time, your cum turning into a creamy mix inside you.

You felt overstimulated, yet he didn’t stop.

“Look at me, kitten,” he said, holding your chin and you were desperate to convey your impending orgasm again.

You looked his way with dark eyes, almost falling shut when he smashed his lips onto yours, messing up your lipstick, his thumb rubbing your clit again leaving you breathless and dishevelled, panting with need.

You realized how true he was to his words, you knew you won’t be able to walk anymore, or stand up for that matter.

With a mixture of ecstasy and anticipating urgency, your hips met his, your stomach tightening when you finally erupted in a cry, consumed by the intensity of your climax and the feeling of him inside you.

With two seconds of silence, Sunghoon got up, hair messy and lipstick staining his smirking lips as he untied your wrists, “have fun walking around now, kitten.”

He was here to prove a point, nothing more, nothing less.

And when you tried to stand up, miserably falling down with a whine, he only chuckled, sending a wink your way before he dressed up and left.

What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t a punishment, only a push to your obsession with him, which grew even further.

It sure won’t be a one time thing with Park Sunghoon.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#fic : subscriber benefits #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader #enha smut #sunghoon hard hours #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon

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tomriddleslove · 5 months

Text

The devil can be beautiful.

✩Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader (Part 1)

SLOWBURN SERIES

Summary: The one where you have it all planned. There’s not a single thing you haven’t sorted, you’re practically untouchable in how perfect you are. He wants to destroy you, and he always gets what he wants. Alternatively: A bet is placed on whether Mattheo can ruin you. It’s not as easy as he thinks.

A/N: Imo a bit more accurate Mattheo here? He’s fucking toxic and they’re all horrible. This is a series!

Nietzche famously rejected connotations of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. They were nought but social constructs - ways to enforce power and authority under arbitrary values. Rather, he believed ‘good’ was relative, as was ‘bad’. If an action or doing promoted life, or power, then it was ‘good’. If an action promoted weakness, and conformity, then it was ‘bad’.

You weren’t religious, but you prayed to the heavens above that Nietzche was right because fuck.

Wrong has never felt so right.

‘Pl- plea-” You gasp, a breathless moan escaping your lips as you tilt your head back. His lips attach to the tender skin of your neck, nipping and biting at the delicate skin with no regard. He was ravenous, and you tasted like ambrosia, something too sweet for him. You had never felt so alive, feeling as though you were numb yet also like every nerve end was on fire.

Ravenous lips meet pure, untouched flesh. Iconoclastic in nature, the idea of corrupting such a sweet thing was enough to send the boy into a haze.

What was the saying? A wolf in sheep's clothing? Someone who seemed so unlikely, so deceptive. You couldn’t even fall back on that as an excuse. No, Mattheo Riddle was the devil himself, presenting himself to you with red horns and a fucking pitchfork in his hand and you stupidly let him sink his fangs into you.

He was beyond tainting you, no.

Mattheo Riddle was destroying you, and you could only let him.

- • -

Proper and prim.

If you had asked anyone to describe you in two words, you were sure those were the ones they would choose.

Proper and prim.

You were near perfect. Hell, if perfection existed you would be the image of it. From your neatly ironed robe to your polished shoes. Not a single thing was out of place. You embodied routine, and order.

Hair brushed back into a simple plait. School uniform modest, your tie neatly tucked underneath your grey school jumper. You had not produced a single piece of work that scored below 100%, from apparition to flying, you simply never did bad.

“Merlin, it must be depressing,” Theodore murmurs as he watches you walk through the Slytherin common room, up to the girls' dorms.

“Who?” Blaise quips as Pansy rolls her eyes, the distaste evident in her voice as she speaks.

“Who else but her? Miss Prissy Goody-Two shoes.” Pansy drawls, redirecting the group's attention to your retreating form.

Theodore reaches into his pocket, rolling a cigarette between two fingers as he speaks.“Did you know she scored 100% on all her OWLS?”

“Of fuking course she did. All she does is bury her nose in books. No wonder she’s always alone.” Draco mocks and Lorenzo snorts.

“She’s a bit of a weirdo” Lorenzo comments and Theodore barges in, a sleazy grin on his face as he raises a brow.

“You know what they say about the quiet ones right? Always the freakiest.”

Pansy dissolves into laughter, clutching her stomach as she speaks through giggles.

“Her? She’s an absolute prude! You should have seen her when she had to work with Pucey during potions. She couldn't even look in his direction. It's pathetic if you ask me.” She taunts.

Mattheo stares off into the fireplace, legs spread lazily as he reclines back onto the sofa. He had no interest in this conversation, really. Not for the reasons one would think, though. It’s not that he secretly cared for you or something, no it was far from that. He agreed that you were rather weird, too perfect and normal to be likeable. Rather he didn't have the energy to engage in such trivial matters.

“You should go ask her out on a date or something Theo. Don’t you like the nerdy girls?” Lorenzo teases as Theodore scoffs, propping his feet up on the table in front of him.

“Absolutely not, She’ll probably perform some kind of fucking blood curse on me.” He mutters as Draco raises a brow.

“How about this? If you manage to fuck her, I’ll give you 100 Galleons.” He proposes. Lorenzo nearly spits out his water as Pansy shakes her head.

Mattheo snaps out of his daze, looking up at Draco with mild curiosity.

“100 Galleons? Are you fucking insane?” Lorenzo blurts, looking at the platinum-haired boy in disbelief.

“Oh come on. It's a guaranteed win for Draco. It’s near impossible for anyone to do that.” Pansy adds.

“I’ll do it.”

It's his first contribution to the conversation and they all turn to look at him. Theodore raises a brow, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as Pansy leans forward.

“Oh? And what makes you think you can?” She taunts.

“Look at her. Teacher’s pet, an absolute loner. Always reading. It’s so predictable. She probably has wet dreams about some bad boy coming to sweep her off her feet. It’s almost too easy.” He says, cracking his neck with a small groan as he sits up.

He could really do with the money. 100 Galleons could buy him at least 3 weeks in the shabby little inn he frequented over the school holidays.

Draco eyed him curiously, before extending his slim pale hand out.

“Agreed. 100 galleons if you manage to fuck her within a month.” Draco repeats, and Mattheo takes the offer.

His calloused palms meet Draco’s, and he shakes on it with a resolute nod, before leaning back in his chair.

1 month? What a joke. He only needed 2 weeks.

-•-

It had been two days after that conversation and Mattheo had been observing you closely, waiting for the right opportunity to crop up. In the meantime, he dissects everything about you. Theodore was right, you were so undeniably boring and monotonous Mattheo had to pause and wonder if you were a sadist of sorts, finding pleasure in such mind-numbing perfection.

It was the same damned thing every single day. You would turn up for breakfast at 8:00, and fix yourself a plate of porridge topped with a handful of blueberries. You’d eat as you read the newspaper, and finish by 8:15. You’d rise, put your bowl away, and head to your first class. You ate lunch during the first half, the same sandwich and apple every day. After lessons, you’d go up to the library. You’d take the furthest seat on the second floor, between the muggle studies and world history books. You would revise for 3 hours, close your books, and head back up to your dorm. You would then re-emerge no longer than 20 minutes later (still dressed in your school uniform) and head down to dinner. You always ate whatever was offered, had a single mug of peppermint tea, and then headed back up to your dorm before it was even 10.

Every. Single. Day.

Mattheo could not comprehend how on earth someone could live like that. Surely you had to be some sort of psychopath, right? There was no way you could find peace and comfort in such a routine. Sure, Mattheo certainly did not feel content, but he’s as sure as the sky is blue that he’d go insane if he lived like you.

Maybe you had some sort of secret? Perhaps you escaped the castle grounds at night to smoke or do some hardcore drugs. Maybe you were some sort of recluse who believed they were some sort of divine being. Your meticulously structured routine, your unwavering discipline—it all seemed too calculated, too perfect. There had to be something lurking beneath the surface, something that explained your seemingly robotic adherence to the same monotonous pattern day after day.

The countless possibilities run through Mattheos mind as he rests his chin on his hand, zoned out as he sits at the back of the astronomy class. Professor Sinastra drones on about Lunar phases and their implications on a wizard’s abilities. Mattheo gazes off at you, who (as per usual) sits right at the front of the class. Your posture is impeccably straight, and you jot down every word Sinastra speaks as though she’s teaching the class how to become a millionaire instantly.

“... And for that reason, I would like two volunteers to come work alongside myself on a month-long project locating rogue planets in the atmosphere. Not only will this be an exciting and unique opportunity, it’ll also put you in incredibly good standing for your upcoming NEWT exams, which may I remind you are in only a few months. The study will largely commence in the evenings, however, there will be a few instances where you will be required to complete monitoring throughout the whole day. You will be excused from lessons on those days, rest assured.” She says.

Mattheo straightens up in his chair as he sees your hand shoot up almost immediately. In any other instance, your enthusiasm would be infuriating at the very least, earning you a snarky remark. But now? Well, it was clear the universe was giving him a sign.

Taking advantage of everyone else's hesitancy, Mattheo raises his hand. A few murmurs ripple through the class, and Professor Sinastra cannot hide her surprise as she nods at Mattheo.

“I must say, I am glad to see you volunteering Mr Riddle.” She says, and Mattheo nods.

He can’t make it too obvious, though. He usually wouldn't be caught dead volunteering for such a thing.

“Getting to skip classes and being permitted to roam around at night? No brainer.” He says, not so subtly to Blaise. Granted, Blaise knows Mattheo’s true intentions, but the statement seems to satisfy the rest of their class, who turn back to their work whilst muttering about how it was a rather good offer.

Mattheo looks over to you, only to find you turned around in your seat, observing him for a second. Your eyes squint, an almost imperceptible change, before you quickly avert your gaze and turn back around.

“You might actually have this one.” Blaise murmurs, leaning closer to Mattheo. He can’t help but smile, an almost arrogant smirk, as he nods.

Looking at the way you diligently return to your work, Mattheo’s indifference suddenly morphs into determination.

This was too easy.

-•-

Mattheo saunters up the stairs to the astronomy tower, the faint moonlight just barely illuminating the path in front of him. As he pushes open the door to the tower, he sees you perched by the telescope. You're still in your school uniform, looking pristine as you sit on the floor, scribbling notes down in your book. You look up at the intrusion, clearing your throat when you see Mattheo. In the dim moonlight, Mattheo can see your face turn slightly red as you swiftly avert your gaze down to the floor.

“Riddle.” You greet, quietly. He hums in acknowledgement, setting his bag down to the side as he slumps against the wall, leaning back.

“Professor um- Professor Sinastra has asked us to just observe the sky and try to make predictions for when we can sight a rogue planet. I’m mapping the movement of the planets but she said you should try to calculate angles of visibility.” You murmur, voice quiet and hesitant.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as he looks over at you. "Angles of visibility, huh?" he muses, pushing himself off the wall and saunters over to where you're seated. "Sounds like a job for someone with a keen eye for detail."

You glance up at him, your expression guarded as you nod in agreement. "Yes, exactly. It's crucial to accurately calculate the angles to ensure our observations are precise."

He laughs, but it's not genuine. No, rather it's almost mocking.

“What makes you think I’m doing any of that, hmm? This is just an excuse for me to skip classes. How this is actually going to work, is that you’re going to do all the work, and let me slap my name on the parts I was meant to do, yeah?” he says, his tone oozing with faux sincerity.

You look up at him, a glimpse of surprise flashing in your eyes.

There we go. Wasn’t so hard to get a reaction out of you, wasn’t it? Mattheo thinks to himself, raising a brow. This would be simple enough. You’d fight back, and after a bit, he’d reluctantly agree. He’d begin to feign actual interest and before you knew it he’d be walking away with 100 galleons added to his name.

But instead of fighting, you nod and look back down at your book.

“Ok.” You murmur.

Mattheo's smirk falters for just a moment as he processes your response. He hadn't expected you to simply agree, to comply without so much as a hint of resistance. It throws him off balance, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“What? You’re not going to disagree? Or go snake on me to Professor Sinastra?” His voice comes out more incredulous than he intended, a mixture of surprise and confusion evident in his tone.

You glance up at him, your expression unreadable. "It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" you reply calmly, your voice devoid of any trace of emotion.

Mattheo's mind races, trying to make sense of your reaction. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to push back, to challenge him, to give him something to work with. But instead, you're just... accepting it.

A flicker of annoyance flares within him, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. This wasn't what he had planned, wasn't how it was supposed to play out. He wanted a challenge, not this... this acquiescence.

He eyes you with a small frown, before turning on his heel and walking out. He’s both frustrated and confused, pondering your words as he makes his way back to the Slytherin common room. Were you really that pathetic? Did you actually have no backbone?

He walks back into the relatively empty common room, spotting the whole group in their usual spot. He goes over to them, tossing his bag to the side as he plops down onto the sofa with a sigh. Pansy eyes him with amusement as she speaks.

“So how was your first evening with our perfect student? Did you woo her under the stars?” Pansy teases as Mattheo fishes around in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Serenade her with a poem?”Theodore joins in, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Merlin, I knew she was a stick-up but to be that much of a push-over? She’s so mind-numbingly fucking boring it's actually insane.” Mattheo starts, lighting the cigarette as he takes a deep drag.

“I mean, I told her that she had to do all the work and give me the credit, and she just said ok! No fighting back, not even a look of annoyance. She just looked down and said Ok,” He exclaims, still rather baffled as he smokes his cigarette.

Lorenzo raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Well, isn't that just precious," he taunts, the hint of mockery in his tone unmistakable. "Our little goody-two-shoes just rolling over and playing dead at the first sign of trouble."

Mattheo scowls, taking another drag from his cigarette as he mulls over their words. It's frustrating, infuriating even, to think that you would just acquiesce without so much as a fight. He had been expecting resistance but instead, he's met with nothing but compliance, and it grates on his nerves in a way he can't quite explain.

"Well, whatever," Mattheo mutters, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he leans back against the sofa.

Just as he goes to speak, his eyes are drawn to the entrance of the common room. The group falls silent at your arrival. You walk through the common room, not even glancing in their direction as you clutch your school bag tightly, heading back up to your dorm.

‘Like you have your tail between your legs’ Mattheo thinks, observing your retreating form.

“Maybe it turned her on?” Theodore proposes. Draco groans, setting down his mug as he rolls his eyes.

“That's disgusting. I do not need to be thinking about that,” He complains.

“You’re the weirdo who proposed the bet anyway!” Theodore quips back, and they soon fall into a silly argument.

It’s all background noise for Mattheo, who can't seem to stop thinking about you. There was no chance you were simply so easily swayed, so complacent. No, there had to be more to it.

Mattheo was a Slytherin through and through. Cunning, resourceful, and ambitious. And if he wanted something, he would always get it. Mattheo would win this bet, and if not for the 100 galleons, it would be to unravel and destroy you, for he saw in your innocence a challenge — a spotless canvas begging for the brushstrokes of corruption, a pure soul ripe for the taint of himself. Even the most virtuous are not spared, and in his eyes, your fall would be his ultimate triumph.

@schaebickel @multifandom-worlds @mildlyuninformative @lillywildly @gillyweeds @anti-hero03

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n

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kelppsstuff · 7 months

Note

Reading your recent post actually made me tear up, in public of all places, I want to give the two of em some.. uh.. comfort

New resident in Charlie's hotel! Who might it be?

Well, since sir pentious can rise, another can go down, right?

Let's say that the reader might've killed one demon before when she joined them in their exterminations

It makes me wonder so damn bad what'll lute and Adam react when they see this demon, the painstakingly similar in body, height, physique darling who, even when damned to hell, still kept her sweetheart personality

This is to soothe the sadness I felt from reading that

“I’m so fucking sorry!” Part two

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death.

Summery: After you die for Lute and Adam they find how your reborn a sinner.

Taglist: @lutesb1tch @strawberryclumsy @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @mimmieme

When you died you didn’t expect for you to be reborn a sinner. You had lived an after-life of pure righteousness. The only thing you had ever done was defend yourself and accidentally killed a sinner. So to say you were shocked was an understatement.

You wanted to see Adam and Lute again, but you knew how they felt about sinners. Would they just toss you aside?

You knocked of the newly build hotel, nervous. The door opened and the Princess opened the door. She immediately knew who you were. You looked the same besides slightly larger black wings and the horns on your head. “I had no where else to go.” You voice small and timid.

You waited for her to slam the door in your face but instead she smiled brightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I felt so sorry about you death. And some how I even felt sorry for Adam.” She mumbled the last sentence but I still caught it. Adam.

He hated sinners the most. Sure Lute could maybe get behind the fact your one now but she had known Adam longer. Would she choose him over you. If it came down to a choice you’d want her to choose him, so neither of them stayed alone.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

The princess hugged you and showed you around.

—

You had spent the next month getting situated. You found it hard to look in the mirror. You looked so different. A new feature that you had was fangs. They slightly stuck out every now and then. But you noticed when you got mad they’d grow along with your horns.

Today was the same as every other. Wake up, clean around the bar, show sinners to there rooms, go to sleep. Though as you were looking down at the room booking book you heard a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Room for two.”

Adam. You looked up in shock and saw him there Lute right by him. You could see the glare in his eyes.

Adam hadn’t recognized you. But the woman beside him did immediately. Lute felt a sense of happiness wash over her as she saw you. She didn’t care about your new look. All she cared about was that you were here.

The two originally came to completely destroy the hotel and every time they’d rebuild it they wanted to tear it down again.

“A-Adam.” You turned your head to Lute tears of joy and shock in your eyes. “Lute.” Lute gave you the brightest smile you ever saw and was quick to jump over the desk, hugging you.

Adam at first was about to question the hell out of Lute. But when your voice replayed in his head he felt the weight on his chest lift. Was it really you? Did god hear his pleas? “Y/N?” Adam asked, he had to be sure, if this was some joke he’d tear down heaven and hell both.

You looked up over Lutes shoulder and smiled nervous at him. “Hi Adam.” He could hear the nerves in your voice but he didn’t give a shit.

He — just like Lute — jumped over the table and hugged you both. You could feel the breath leaving your body as they started to held you too tight. But you didn’t pull away, finally happy, finally with them. Your heaven. “I missed you guys.” You said to the two. Voice full of love.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you died on us. That totally did not rock.” Leave it to Adam to make his two girls laugh.

Adam felt joy, it had been the first time Lute laughed since the incident. Adam always tried to crack a joke to make her smile, but it was always dimmed.

“I’m a sinner now.” You were scared. This was the moment you were prepared for them to turn their backs on you. But you should have known better, they’d never turn their backs on their sun.

“We couldn’t care less.” Lute pulled away from the hug and cupped you cheek, leaving a friendly kiss on your lips. “Yeah listen to her hot stuff.” Adam spoke and he kissed your other cheek.

Finally with the people who you belonged with.

—

Over the next course of months Adam and Lute would visit you. They talked to Sera and gave the okay on the Hotel. But even if Sera said no, they’d still visit you and every now and then bring a certain snake occasionally.

They two angels had started to noticed you avoiding mirrors and when you saw one you’d just stare at yourself until someone pulled you away.

They watch you look at you reflection out the window. The two sat on your bed, staring at you worried.

Adam was the first to speak, filling the silence in the room. “You okay babe?”

We’re you okay? You didn’t know.

Nothing about you was okay anymore, so you thought. Your white pure angelic wings were now tarnished in black. You’d lost your halo. Nothing about that was okay. But you’d put on a show for them.

“I’m okay, Adam.” You’d never really called Adam and Lute by their names unless you were worried. You’d call Adam, apple and Lute, wild girl. “No your not.” Lute said in her knowing voice. You sighed, you can’t really hide anything from them can you?

“I’m hideous. I’m a sinner, I should be holy and yet I’m a monster.” You could feel the tears looking at your words.

“Your not a monster.” Lute tried to comfort you.

“LOOK AT ME!” You turned to them, horns bigger than normal, fangs longer, eyes glowing red. “This is who I am now!” “And I love you just the same.” She spoke as she made her way to you. Adam unusually quiet.

“How could you love me, when I don’t even love myself?”

Adam shook his head in disbelief at your words. He got off the bed and made his way to you. Cupping your cheeks and looking tenderly into your eyes he spoke. “You should know better than anyone that loving someone isn’t a choice, it’s a gift. You loved me at my worse, of course we would love you through hell and back.” He leaned down and placed a familiar kiss onto your lips. He wrapped an arm around your neck and his other around Lute, pulling you all into a comforting hug.

Maybe, maybe everything would be okay. And maybe Adam and Lute really did love you still.

Who are we kidding, let’s stop with the maybes. They loved you more than ever.

—

HI I’m sorry if this was a bit short, but i hope it brought you the comfort you wanted! Thank you for liking this little journey with Adam, Lute, and Reader. Have a great day! 💛

And a little extra!

You smiled as you squeezed Lutes hand. She had done so good bringing a little girl into the world.

Adam cut the umbilical cord while you took care for of Lute. Adam looked up to you smiling and gestured for you to come to him. “I’ll be right back you wild girl.” You whispered to Lite and walked over to Adam. You looked at the crying baby, she looked just like her dad ironically. “Hold her.” Adam whispered to you. You turned to him in shock. What? You would have thought Adam would want to be the first person to hold his daughter. “Go on.”

You picked her up and started to rock her, bringing her over to Lute, Adam putting his hands on your shoulders lovingly, before giving a kiss to Lute.

Lute cried while she held her baby. Adam crying as well, and gosh you were practically sobbing in happiness.

Some would think you’d be jealous over the two, but that wasn’t the case. You all loved each other equally and you would love that kid as if she were your own. “What’s her name?” The only thing the two had held off on telling you. You didn’t know why, but you were excited to hear what to call the little chipmunk.

Adam and Lute looked to each-other smiling before turning there heads to you.

“Y/N.” The two spoke together and you swore your heart stopped. “What?”

“Y/N. After the person to show us what heaven really is.” Tears flew down your face as you all FOUR hugged.

When little Y/N turned 1, you had been pregnant with two twins on the way. This is what a happy ever after really is. You all three though as you watched Little Y/N playing in the sand. Adam and Lute holding your belly.

—

THANK YOU FOR THE IDEA! This was such a cute scene to write! 💛

Taglist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #masterlist #adam hazbin hotel #adam is actually hilarious #adam x reader #x reader #lute x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute #adam x lute

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seresinhangmanjake · 8 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 11

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, body shaming, typos

Words: 2879

The One I Want Masterlist

“So, you are the new roomie,” Brit says, crossing her arms under her breasts, pushing them up much higher than what is naturally achievable. The door closes behind her. “The new pussy. The new set of tits.”

Her heels click across the tiled floor as she makes her way over to the sink, pulls out a tube of lipstick from the bag hanging off her shoulder, and uncaps it. The stick runs smoothly over her bottom lip, renewing the vibrancy of the red shade.

“I could see it the other night,” she continues as she caps the tube. Her eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Fucker was looking at you like you were some angel that fell out of the goddamn sky—until it changed into the kicked-puppy look because of whatever you said to him. And yet, despite your nasty words, I’m the one who got the furious look to go with a bullshit lecture about ‘backing off’,” she scoffs. “I’ve heard it before, but this time I figured it probably had something to do with the chubby girl he sent away.”

It’s been months since you’ve heard that word, and you feel the dig, but it doesn't make it as deep into your gut as you expected. It's more like a shallow divot in the ground. It causes a stumble and a fleeting moment of panic, but that panic morphs into relief when you realize it didn’t shove you down onto your knees. You’re able to pull yourself back together, upright and undamaged, and carry on with your next step as if it never happened.

The blonde looks you up and down in the silence that follows her words. Oddly, her eyes do not flit in sharp movements that would suggest an unwillingness to linger on something unpleasant. Instead, she’s almost as slow and thoughtful as Jake when his eyes drag along your curves with enough appreciation they could substitute for his fingers. But it’s no shock that Brit’s lengthy concentration on the wider parts of your body is not from appreciation. Her stare contains questions, the most likely of them picking at why Jake would want someone like you when he once had her. And without an accompanying snarl across her lips or pinch in her brow, she seems more like a curious child wanting to understand a concept she’s never before been witness to.

But then she finds her smirk.

“You’re not his type.” Her tongue running over one side of her top row of teeth makes a squelching sound that you pray you’ll never hear twice.

“What do you want?” you ask, “Just for Jake to want you again?”

Her head jerks back an inch and the curve of her jaw shifts with her grinding teeth. You weren’t aware you had the power to catch someone like her off-guard, but it takes some time before her tense features melt into a smile.

“I knew he would tell you all about me,” she sighs. “I don’t even have to formally introduce myself because he’s so damn considerate.” Tilting her head, her smile widens, but her eyes are missing all light and the longer you stare the more you expect fangs to form and nails to elongate in preparation for ripping you to pieces. “I only want to do you a favor. Don’t you like favors?”

You swallow. “I don’t need a favor.”

“What kind of weirdo doesn’t appreciate a favor?” Her face scrunches and her head shakes in mock disbelief as she tosses the lipstick back into her purse. “Fine, we’ll call it something else: a warning for the sake of your own self-care.” She crosses her arms again and moves back to lean against the sink; the exact spot where you sat as Jake touched and kissed and held you. You wonder if she’d allow any part of her to make contact with that spot if she knew its very recent history.

“Jake Seresin gets bored,” she says with the prideful tone of someone much too pleased to force their knowledge upon others, whether that knowledge be accurate or not. “I don’t know where he found you or what sob story you gave that tapped into his caretaker complex, but it doesn’t make a difference in the long run. You’re not there because you have value to him, you’re there because you’re easy. You are a warm pussy and an open mouth and a pair of tits, and that’s it,” she spits. “Don’t start thinking that you're special or that you give him something no one else can. He’s tasted better things than you and thrown them away, so believe me when I say that you’re wasting your time by latching on to him. The way he looks at you, it's not real. What you are is shiny and new, but shiny and new doesn’t last forever, and after enough time, he’ll–”

“I'm not that new,” you interrupt.

A flash shoots across her irises—there and then gone. For someone else, it could have passed unnoticed, but you recognize the things you have felt before; the verbal shutdown that stops someone in their tracks by ripping the words from their throat and rendering them meaningless. Being on the opposite end of it turns your stomach, but for your defense and the defense of the man you care for, you won't hide the truth to spare her.

Brit scoffs. “You’ve lived there, what, a few weeks?”

“Months.”

Her brow knits and eyes narrow, and she’s guaranteed to form wrinkles you’re sure she’d rather prevent.

“Good,” she says, but it’s not quite as dominant as before. “Then you don’t have much time before he shows you the man he really is. It starts off all sweet, he’s kind and considerate of your feelings, but the minute you want more he’ll dump you on your ass.”

“He isn't–”

“It will happen,” she snaps, taking a few more steps closer until she’s just shy of in your face. “And if you have an ounce of intelligence, you’ll leave him.”

With how hard she’s trying, there’s an instinctual part of you that fights to feel sympathy. And in a way, you do. What she’s sharing is not unlike your own experiences. You’ve been with men. You know the ones who aim to hurt and revel in their success. You know the ones who don’t think twice about their actions and hurt without looking back. But you also know Jake is neither of those men.

You let a handful of beats pass, hoping to find in her glare one dominating emotion to guide you. But they are too interwoven. She is fueled by the familiar self-sustaining brew of anger and pain, and you wonder if she can feel anything else anymore–if she is capable of relaxing or evenly breathing. You wonder if she ever sleeps.

“You know, running from something and chasing after something are a lot alike,” you begin, testing the strength of your voice in the slim space between you. “You practically kill yourself trying to reach a place where you’re content and have what you want, but you never get there. And it's exhausting,” you admit. “I know how exhausting it is.”

“Do you have a point?”

Your stare doesn't falter under the intensity of hers. “Aren’t you tired?”

She flinches, and as her eyes flick back and forth between yours you wait for some form of retaliation, but it doesn't come.

Your safety is solidified by the call of your name as the door swings open. Millie’s head pops into the room and when she recognizes who has you nearly pressed up against the wall, her body follows. Her arms cross and her brows dip and for the first time you witness a death glare you didn’t know that that woman—that tiny woman, Rooster’s girl, your friend—was capable of. The glare pries into the blonde.

“You alright, hon?” she asks, but it’s not a question looking for a response as much as it is a warning to Brit that if anyone in this room is going to be ‘alright,’ she’s last on the list.

Impressively, that’s all it takes before you’re watching Brit retreat from the bathroom.

When the door closes, Millie rushes over to take your hand, falling into the motherly mode that, considering her age, continues to throw you for a loop.

“What the hell was that?” she demands. “What’d she say to you?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head. Glad that she’s now by your side, your lips quirk.

“It didn’t look like nothin’.”

“Nothing that matters.” Her fingers give your hand a light squeeze as she scans your face, searching for a chink in your expression that might indicate a lie. “Millie, I swear.”

Seemingly satisfied, she nods and turns for the door, pulling you along behind her. “We have to tell Jake she was botherin’ you.”

Suddenly, your heels dig into the floor. “No, we don't.”

Millie twists back around and blinks as if she misheard you. “You’re kiddin’ me.”

You’re not. Jake doesn’t need that. Dragging unnecessary problems into his life is the last thing you want to do to him. And unnecessary is exactly what this is. You can take care of yourself, but you’re not sure your abilities will matter if Jake knows what happened in this bathroom. After everything he’s been through and lost, learning that Brit went around him to get to you will be seen as nothing less than a threat in his eyes, as it would be seen in yours were the situation reversed.

That’s what happens when you chip away at each other’s walls. Because both of you have begun exposing your hearts and your worries and your fears while your hands are intertwined, the area to protect has expanded in a way it wouldn’t have had you taken this journey on your own. Now it’s harder. There’s more open space, less solid defenses, and your eyes have to monitor distances farther than they can reach. It's impossible to always be successful in protecting two people at once, so now, to protect Jake, you have to take the blow. And in this case, that is what is necessary.

“It’s his birthday,” you stress. “He's happy. Just let it be.”

“But he's going to see her out there anyway.” Millie waves in Jake’s general direction as if the dramatic flail of her short arm might assist in making her point.

“I doubt it. She probably left.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

Because Brit didn't come here for Jake. Not tonight. But you can’t immediately piece together the right way to say I don’t think it, I know it without inviting more questions from the fiery redhead with a fierce protective nature. So you ignore it. “Everything's going to be fine,” you say. “I promise.”

—

“Don’t you think it’s a little too out in the open there?” you ask from the couch as Jake centers the snow globe on the mantle above the television.

“No,” he says without a glance back at you.

“It’ll catch the sunlight and blind you while you're watching a movie.”

His finger nudges the globe a millimeter to the left. “I’ll watch movies at night.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, it throws off the decor of the room.”

He steps back to get a look at the globe's placement before going in to erase the millimeter he had just moved it. “How?”

“I don’t know,” you huff. “There’s no other snow in here.”

When he finally turns to you, his brow is arched and his lips are upturned enough to carve dimples into his cheeks. “There’s no other snow in here,” he repeats. “Do I need to go buy some of that fake stuff? Sprinkle it around the room maybe?”

“You’re not funny,” you grumble as he walks toward you, stopping just a few inches away. He leans down and his hands reach out to cup your cheeks.

“It’s staying,” he says with a peck to your lips. Then he releases you and falls onto the cushions beside you.

His head rests on the back of the couch, tilted to the side so he can easier watch you, which is exactly what he does. He watches. His soft gaze stays on your face until enough time has passed that you can’t help but chuckle.

“What?” comes through your light laugh.

“Come here.”

“What for? Your birthday is over.”

Heading lifting, his jaw drops. “By an hour and a half.”

When your lips pull to the side and brows raise as if to say ‘Not my problem’, Jake sits up and scoots toward the edge of the cushion.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Getting ready to get on my knees and beg, what does it look like?”

You quickly throw out your hand and press it against the center of his chest to stop him. Though he’s undoubtedly much stronger than you, he falls back onto the couch with the slightest push. As you sit up and stretch a leg over his hips to settle down on his thighs, you sigh through your nose with a smile, and say, “Isn’t that a little dramatic?”

Firm hands grip the dips of your waist. “From my perspective, no.”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you let your body lean into him until your breasts are flush to his chest and your lips are inches apart. “Happy Birthday,” you whisper before your mouth meets his in a kiss.

It’s soft and slow, and his tongue greets yours with such sweetness as it explores you. He tastes you as if it's the first time after months apart and he doesn’t want to neglect a single bit of you—a drastic shift from earlier when every move he made was filled with urgency, but being in your own home grants you that luxury. There’s no need for hurried movements with no one to bother you. So he doesn’t rush a single thing. Not his kisses. Not his touch.

Those fingers roam expertly about your body, expressing how much he wants you without demanding you offer him permission to do as he pleases. His fingers that slide up your inner thigh, but not too high, and brush around your breasts, but not too close, silently swear that you are the one in control. His touch serves as a promise of what he can give you, but only if you decide you want it.

And it’s not that you don’t want it, him, you do, but you would prefer to feel a stronger sense of confidence that if you take each other, you won’t lose something of yourself in the process as you have in the past. If you take that step, you need to be sure you’ll still be the person you’ve become since you met him, the person he knows you to be. Right now, you can’t guarantee that. So you let his fingers do their roaming, burning tingles through the fabric of your dress, and you let your hands do the same, traveling over wide shoulders and thick neck and into soft hair, but you don’t suggest more. And to your relief, he doesn’t push for more, despite it being his birthday.

Jake releases a moan so low and gravelly and deep that you feel it from your chest to your belly. He moans and groans and when you bite his lip, he lightly whimpers, and you like it too much that you can pull the same sounds from him that he can from you. But that little song you're making him sing is interrupted by a sharp ding.

Jake’s lips detach from yours and his head whips in the direction of the intrusive sound. “Shit,” he says. “Sorry, let me turn it off.” His arm extends toward the noise, making his whole body lean sideways, and you take the opportunity to lick a small stripe along his neck. “Fuck, beautiful.” He groans another lovely groan as he secures the phone in his hand and straightens his posture.

You hear the click that opens the phone, the light from the screen creating a bright spot in the corner of your closed eyelids, but it takes you a while to notice that, though Jake’s other arm is still wrapped around you, his hand has stopped its caressing. His breathing has slowed to a more regulated pattern. He’s too quiet for too long, and you never heard him set the phone back down on the side table.

Then he says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Brit?”

You freeze, all of you from your head to your toes to your heart and the blood rushing through your veins. Pulling your head back from his neck, you find his eyes still glued to his phone. “W-What?”

Jake flips the device so you have a full view of the screen and the block of text in the bottom left corner.

Rooster: Hey man, Millie said Brit went after your girl tonight. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I know you’d tell me if it was Millie, so just making sure she’s ok.

You reread the words, hoping they might change with another pass over, but no luck. “Um…”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things

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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year

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☆ ★ Still Alive ☆ ★ {Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Ellie Williams has been your best friend since the second grade, the two of you stuck by the hip since you were practically babies. What happens when she starts acting….strange all of a sudden?

an: Okay yes, I folded and I wrote an Ellie fic inspired by Jennifers body, it’s just 1000000x gayer, and a tiny bit different. Ellie is Jennifer and reader is Needy. That’s all I have to say. Just trust me, okay?

Warnings: SMUT! Buckle up bc this one is gonna be filthy, college!ellie and reader, angst, mean!ellie, angst bc your best friend is a basically a demon now, Ellie will kill anyone that crosses her sweet best friend, shy!reader, scissoring again bc it’s hot sue me idc, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), I’m sorry but Ellie has fangs what do you want me to do? Let me know if I missed anything! (This isn’t proof read btw I’m sorry)

Part 2 can be read here!

Your best friend had been acting…strange

Ellie Williams had been your best friend since the first day of second grade. She spotted you immediately, her green eyes sparkling the second she caught eye of you swimming in the sea of second graders during recess. She made her way towards you, she told you how cool she thought your shoes were. To think someone as cool as she was thought that you were cool had almost felt like a joke in the beginning.

But it wasn’t a joke, and she had been by your side every day since. Even now that you were both in college together, she was with you.

Except, she wasn’t. Not right now at least. Ellie had been making herself scarce for about a week now, which was not at all like her. Even if she wasn’t feeling well, she’d text you whining until you were at her apartment with everything you needed to nurse her back to health, calling her your big baby.

But all you got was radio silence. It was almost as if she didn’t even exist at certain points. Every attempt you made at trying to reach out at her were in vain, as you were left with nothing on the other side. You even tried showing up at her apartment, a stack of notes that she had missed pressed between your arm and your chest, and brownies from her favorites bakery stuffed in your bag, but still,

Nothing.

What was even worse, was that everyone was coming to you regarding her absence.

Ellie had always been the more popular one of the two of you. Her presence just…attracted others, she was like a magnet. And how could she not be? She was so fucking charming sometimes it felt like she wasn’t real. She had the prettiest smile, and green eyes that sparkled from the moment you first set eyes on them. Everyone who saw her was enamored by her, and you’d never blame them for it.

And it was no secret that you were best friends. You were always close by her, trailing behind like a lost puppy. Ellie always assured you that she liked it that way, that you felt like home to her.

But in instances like this, it was a problem.

You had nothing to say to the people who asked you for her, simply giving them a half shrug and an apologetic smile when you told them you were just as confused about her disappearance as they were. The only thing that truly kept you from filing a missing persons report was that her landlord said she had been in touch with her.

But what really pissed you off, were the girls.

Ellie had always been popular with them, even back in grade school, she had girls swooning over her every time she outran the boys during track, or when she flashed them a particularly bright smile. It was something you thought you’d gotten used to, pushing down the jealousy that came with the countless pretty girls that would interrupt your conversations with your best friend.

But after the fifth girl came to you, twisting her pretty hair between her fingers as she asked you for Ellie, you realized it still fucking bothered you.

You carried on though, getting through all of the attention you had been getting by the end of the week. You were a good student, quiet, smart, a professors dream in all honesty. You used it to your advantage, distracting yourself with your studies so that you wouldn’t worry too much about your best friend.

You had finally gotten back to your apartment on Friday after your last class, a low sigh blowing past your lips as you pressed your back up against your front door once it was closed. You tossed your keys to the side, slowly peeling your jacket off of your tired body as you went about getting comfortable in your home.

You had showered and gotten yourself something to eat, and now you were on your bed, cuddled up with Angel, your precious little calico kitty. These days it was like she was the only one that was around to take up the attention you had to give.

Your hand was stroking between her ear gently, her soft purrs making you feel drowsy. Your eyes were heavy, and you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget about the sinking feeling that came with the sudden disappearing of your dear friend.

A loud banging against your door made you flinch.

You frowned as you sat up, staring in the direction of where the loud, persistent noise was coming from. Angel stared in the same direction as well, her meowing growing louder, as if she sensed something behind the door that you didn’t, something dangerous.

You shushed her gently, giving her a gentle pet as if to reassure her as much as you could before you grabbed your phone. It was already past midnight, and you sure as hell didn’t invite anyone over, let lone expect anyone to just show up.

You gave it a minute longer, hoping that whoever was there simply had the wrong apartment number and would soon realize, leaving before they could bother you any further.

But the knocking didn’t stop.

It was loud, and persistent, and eager to get in, and for a moment you felt as though you really were in danger.

You inhaled deeply, your eyebrows furrowed as you got off of your bed and walked out into your living room, staring at your front door with every move you made. You obviously weren’t an idiot, so you grabbed the nearest weapon you could use to stun whoever it was that so desperately needed to get into your home, which happened to be a spare hanger that was in the closet near your front door.

You gripped it in your hand tightly, inhaling deeply before you unlocked the door and opened it harshly, ready to knock out whoever was behind it.

You weren’t totally sure what you expected, but it surely wasn’t your best friend standing on the other side.

Your best friend who had been missing for the past week, who couldn’t even respond to your text messages with a simple confirmation that she was in fact okay, your best friend who you had been worried sick over for days on end, your best friend that looked like your best friend but also didn’t at the same time…

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked down at you, green eyes piercing through your own as she took you in. You were about to go to sleep, and she could tell by your little pajama shorts and your fuzzy socks that you reserved for Friday nights only, something about treating yourself after a long week rung through her ears as she recalled the night she asked you why you wore them.

The breath that you had been holding in your lungs blew past your lips, sighing in relief as you finally let your posture fall. You weren’t sure if you were relieved that it was her, or if you were relieved at the fact that she wasn’t a fucking axe murderer waiting to chop you up into little pieces.

“Jesus…Ellie? What…what the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned breathlessly as you brushed your hair off of your face, far too winded to even ask her where she’d been yet.

Ellie smirked softly as she watched you, a low chuckle leaving her chest as her eyes trailed down to the hanger in your hand. “Is that a hanger?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her comment, almost taken aback at the fact that she wasn’t responding to your question before your eyes followed hers, and you looked down at the hanger in your hand. You rolled your eyes, a soft huff leaving your lips before you hung it back up and promptly stepped aside for her to come into your home.

“You were knocking on my door like the fucking feds…or..I dunno, Michale Myers or something? God Ellie what the hell is wrong with you? It’s almost 1 in the morning”. She simply smiled down at you while you scolded her, her large palm pressing against your front door as she closed it. God she had missed you, her chest was practically blooming with happiness as she watched you walk over to your fridge without another word, grabbing her a bottle of water before you returned with it and held it out for her, that adorable frown she loved so much still playing on your lips.

She licked her lips, her large hand wrapping around the bottle before she gently set it down on the coffee table next to you both. She hummed, bending her knees a bit before she wrapped her long arms around your waist, pulling you flush to her body and almost off of the ground. Her face pressed against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as her eyes fluttered shut, groaning softly.

“Missed you so much Bambi…”

Anymore scolding that you had for her was caught in your throat the second you felt those arms wrap around your body and pull you into her, the familiar nickname she had given you when you were far younger making your insides warm up. Your cheeks burned red, simply letting her take you into her before you sighed softly, your own eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around her neck, realizing then just how much you had missed her too.

“Where’d you go El….you wouldn’t even text me back..” You huffed out, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of her neck. She smiled against yours, knowing all too well that you were pouting from the mere sound of your little huffs and whines.

She licked her lips, feeling how much her absence has affected you. She held you for a bit longer, the two of you swaying a bit in the middle of your home as she let herself enjoy you for a bit longer before she spoke.

“I was…um…I got sick…bad cold” She nodded to herself, trying to reassure you.

But you weren’t having it.

You frowned as you pulled away from her, pushing her back by her shoulders as you stared up at her, not buying her excuse for one second. “Then why didn’t you call me? You knew I’d come and take care of you…”

Ellie hated when you looked at her like that. You weren’t mad or disappointed, it was like you were pleading with her. Begging her to just let you help her. And the thing about it, Ellie loved when you babied her, she almost looked forward to getting sick because she knew you’d drop everything and tend to her every need, making sure she got better as soon as humanely possible.

But this…god this was so different than any of those times before.

She licked her lips as she stared down at you, one of her hands coming up to cup your cheek gently, her thumb rubbing over the soft skin before she shook her head. “Didn’t want you getting sick Bambi…this one was just…really bad” She groaned out, making it sound like it really was that bad.

You sighed, because it wasn’t your job to take care of her. You weren’t obligated to do anything for Ellie, and her you. She didn’t owe you anything, and she sure as hell didn’t have to tell you every time she was sick. She wasn’t yours, and you weren’t hers, and this entire situation made that very clear to you.

You’d be lying if you said it was nice to ignore.

You sighed, giving into her as you gave her a gentle nod. The hand on your cheek made your heart burst, feeling like you could cry at any moment, it made the feelings worse.

Ellie had always been touchy with you, your friendship being one that crossed those lines time and time again. You would never shy away from her, and her hands were almost always on you from the moment you could remember.

But why did this all feel…different? Why did her gaze feel so intense, why did it feel like she wasn’t looking at you, but right through you. Like you were something to own, like you were hers.

You figured it was just a lack of her presence for so long, maybe she always looked at you like that and you just never noticed, maybe she looked at all her friends that way.

Regardless of it all, Ellie was back, and you were so fucking happy for that.

Ellie beamed the second she saw your features soften, and she knew that you had given into her. She tugged her bottom lip beneath her teeth as she smiled down at you, her thumbs rubbing circles into your waist as she kept you pressed against her body, a low hum leaving her lips. “You wanna go to a party with me tonight?”

Your eyes widened a bit at her question before you sighed, pulling her hands from around your waist and leaving her in your living room. It was typical Ellie behavior to try and drag you to one of the many frat parties that she attended. It just…wasn’t your thing. You were a home body through and through, you preferred staying inside in the comforts of your own home, cuddling with your cat while you allowed your brain to rot while watching cheesy reality tv shows.

That and…watching Ellie flirt with girls at those parties was just…you couldn’t stand to watch it.

You refused to be the friend that held her back from doing what (or who) she wanted to do, so you didn’t. You always passed up on her offers to those parties, figuring that if you didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.

It didn’t stop her from attempting though, and the current fire in her eyes was determined to get you to finally come with her.

You sighed as you made your way into your room, Ellie following close behind and watching your every move. You crawled onto your bed, your cotton shorts giving Ellie the perfect view of your ass, causing her to cock her head to the side and shamelessly check you out.

You laid back on your bed, pulling Angel, who had weirdly been on high alert from the moment Ellie had stepped inside of your home, into your lap. You frowned as you looked down at your kitten, her hair raised and eyes slanted as she eyed Ellie’s every move. You pet her gently, trying to calm her down before you pulled her down to cuddle into your chest, grabbing your remote control and turning on your tv.

“M’not going anywhere tonight El…I’ve already showered and brushed my teeth and…I’m just not in the mood to party and get drunk right now” you huffed out, grabbing the plush throw blanket on your bed and draping it over your body, cuddling further into yourself and your cat as your attention was settled on the tv.

Ellie tilted her head back as she whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum as she sat at the edge of your bed, her hand slipping underneath your blanket and grabbing a handful of your plush thighs, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Come on..you never go anywhere dude, I can’t stand the people that go there…would be so much better if you came…” Her words trailed off as she pushed your blanket back a bit, needing to see the way your thighs spilled out of her grip as she massaged your skin.

You whined softly, the cool air of your room hitting your skin, but quickly being replaced by the feeling of Ellie’s large hands pawing at your legs. You sighed, turning towards her a bit and giving her better access to you before you shook your head, knowing she wouldn’t let this go without somewhat of a compromise.

“If I tell you I’ll go to the next one, will you drop it?” You practically pleaded, knowing the girl all too well for these games. She’d massage you and caress you until you were putty in her hands, getting you to do whatever it was that she wanted.

She flashed that beautiful smile your way as she finally broke her attention away from your legs, nodding eagerly. Now this, this was progress. Never had Ellie gotten you to promise her something like this, and it made her insides burn with excitement.

You giggled softly as you watched her beam like a kid, making your heart warm up at the sight. You rolled your eyes playfully before you pressed your hand against her chest, pushing her away playfully. “Fuck off…go, have fun tonight…text me when you’re home?” You questioned as you looked up at her, feeling that same sense of anxiety that you felt when you hadn’t heard from her for the entire week.

You had just gotten her back, she needed to know how important that was to you.

Her large hand grasped your wrist gently as it was pressed against her chest, staring down at you as you practically begged her to touch base with you when she got home. She hummed, staring down at you as her fingers caressed your skin gently, your hand emitting warmth against her skin before she nodded.

“Always baby…I’ll see you later, okay?” She assured you with a firm nod, causing you to smile up at her. You gave her a soft noise of agreement before she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her head and letting herself out of your apartment.

You sighed as you watched her leave, your heart sinking once her presence was no longer there with you. Once you heard the click of your front door, you fell back into your soft bed, unable to shake the new, uneasy feeling that came with seeing her.

You thought the following week with Ellie being back would be easier.

It wasn’t.

After the bizarre incident that happened with her banging on your door at one in the morning, you didn’t see her for the rest of the weekend. She texted you nonstop, more so than usual, but her physical presence was once again an enigma. Although she wasn’t completely gone as she was before, the lack of actually seeing her was doing your head in, and you had no idea how to actually bring it up to her.

You expected to brush it all off on Monday morning. You’d wake up for class and Ellie would be waiting for you in the courtyard as usual, like she always did because she was just Ellie, your Ellie, no different than before.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

When you got to your college campus, it seemed as though Ellie’s disappearing act was still in full swing, because she wasn’t there waiting for you. There was someone waiting for you though.

There was one bit of attention that you received during the week of Ellie’s absence that wasn’t directly associated with Ellie, not entirely at least.

Amber was in a few of your classes, and she seemed nice enough. You’d never spoken to her long enough to fully know her, but in the small exchanges that you had with her, you knew she was nice.

She had made her way to you in the middle of the week, noticing that you had been eating lunch alone in the courtyard, or perched up against a tree listening to music or reading. It came to a surprise to you when she wasn’t asking about Ellie, but instead about you. She was sweet, and funny, and as selfish as it may have sounded, she was someone to talk to while Ellie had practically abandoned you.

You couldn’t help but blush softly once she looked in your direction, giving you an excited wave and a small smile as she patted the spot next to her on the bench she was sat at.

“Hey stranger, was waiting for you” She smiled softly, causing you to giggle softly as you sat down next to her. Amber was nice to be around, she made it easy for you. You preferred to listen, and she always had so much to say to you, or about you, complimenting your outfit for the day, or brushing strands of hair from your face.

She was in the middle of asking you how your weekend went, and you opened your mouth to tell her how it was, quiet and uneventful as usual.

But a dark, looming presence cut your words short.

Like a dark, grey cloud, Ellie stood over you both, and she looked terrible. The radiant light that she had emitted on Friday was gone, instead replaced by dull eyes, rimmed with dark bags. Her lips were dry, and the color had been drained from her face, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the awful cold she was telling you about was back to harass her.

Your eyes widened as you stared up at her, worry filling your chest at how fucking tired she looked. “Ellie? I…are you okay? You look awful. Do you have a-“ she cut off your words, her eyes boring holes through Amber’s skull as she towered over the both of you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Her words were harsh, and pointed and it sounded like Amber had done something horribly wrong, when all she had done was have a conversation with you.

“Ellie what the hell! Amber I’m so sorry I-“ your attention was turned towards Amber as you rushed out an apology, feeling like things could go south at any moment. Ellie looked fucking mad, and something inside of you told you that you wouldn’t play with her right now.

“Amber? Amber? Who the fuck is Amber?” Her tone was pointed, but this time it was directed towards you. Anyone walking by would assume that you had been caught cheating on your girlfriend, and her accusing tone didn’t do anything to make it sound any different. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you finally stood up, pressing your hand against the fuming girls chest to try and put some sort of distance between the two of them, as Amber was clearly just as confused as you were.

“I’ll…talk to you guys later…” Amber mumbled awkwardly, giving you a small apologetic smile before she rushed off towards her first class of the day.

You were too busy to give her anything but a quick wave and a smile before your attention was turned back towards the angry girl that stood before you.

You were filled with anger, and worry, because not only did your best friend speak to someone in a tone that they did not deserve, but she looked half fucking dead.

Her eyes trailed Amber like she was ready to kill, watching her every move until she was completely out of view. She felt your soft hand against her cheek, trying to pull her back down to you. When she finally did look down at you, the look in your eyes made her heart crack.

You were practically begging her to tell you what was wrong, because so many weird things had been happening. And you had enough.

Before she could even understand, you were dragging her across campus. The sun was so fucking bright, and she was so fucking hungry, and seeing you with Amber made her fucking blood boil.

And don’t even get her started on how good you smelled.

She couldn’t focus on anything other than the empty feeling in her stomach, the feeling nagging at her to be noticed, to be acknowledged, the only thing able to distract her from it was the anger she felt when she saw you settled next to a girl that wasn’t her, bare legs on display for them, why the hell were you even wearing a skirt? Did you want Amber to notice? Did you wear it specifically for her? Did you have a crush on her-

Her racing thoughts were cut off when she felt that you had both stopped. She blinked a few times, her blurry eyes taking in her surroundings. You had brought her to the library, tucked away in the very ends of it where no one would find you. You were staring up at her, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for something, anything, from her.

She gave you a lazy shrug. “What?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mimicking her lazy shrug. “Seriously? That’s all you have to fucking say to me? Ellie, why did you yell at Amber that way? And why the fuck do you look half dead?? Are you sick again? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on!” Your voice grew louder and louder with each words you spoke, feeling your anger rise.

Ellie groaned softly as she shushed you, knowing she didn’t need anymore attention than she had already been getting. Plus, the pounding in her head wasn’t helping either.

Ellie sighed softly, watching as you waited for her response. She knew she couldn’t keep lying to you, she was acting out and she knew that you could read her like the back of your hand.

“I just…have a headache, okay? I didn’t sleep well last night” It wasn’t entirely a lie, she really did have a headache, and she didn’t sleep a goddamn wink the night before.

You huffed out, clearly still not satisfied with the answers that she was giving you. You felt like calling them answers was too forgiving when they were barely that.

“Okay cool. That settles your appearance, but what about your behavior. What makes you think you can talk to people that way Ellie? What makes you think you can talk to me that way?” You questioned, once again begging for some sort of clarity from the girl, one that she was proving time and time again she could not provide.

She felt ashamed, small under your pleading gaze. She knew she owe it to you, and she knew you didn’t deserve what she was dishing out to you.

But the mere thought of you talking to Amber made her seethe, and she felt the anger return in the blink of an eye. She was irritated with everything, everyone, even you, because what makes you think you can just do that in front of her? Have you learned nothing? Do you know nothing?

She’s angry, and she can’t stop the words that are leaving her mouth.

“Because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone is using you”

You’re not sure what you expect her to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

Her words make your mouth close instantly, because you truly don’t trust yourself enough to know that anything else that leaves yours will be sensible.

The look in your eyes makes Ellie’s heart tug, and she knows she’s done it, she’s forced you to put up those walls that she had taken down herself throughout her entire friendship with you. But for some reason, she can’t find it in herself to stop.

“Don’t give me that fuckin look, it’s true and you know it. Everyone knows it. They all came to you when I wasn’t here because they see the way you follow me like a fucking child, she was using you to get to me just like they were” lies, it was all lies and Ellie fucking knew that. Amber liked you, and everyone except for you could see that. Amber had never had any sort of dealings with Ellie and she never wanted to, she wanted an opening to talk to you, and she saw it when you weren’t by Ellie’s side.

And that pissed Ellie off.

She struck a nerve, she knew that. Your eyes began welling up with tears, filling up like big swimming pools. You bit your lip to hold it back, you refused to cry in front of her, especially when she was the one that did this to you.

You inhaled deeply before you gave her a small nod. “Okay Ellie….” Was all you could truly say. She’d said all she had to, and you heard her loud and clear. You were a burden, and she had just confirmed that.

Ellie wanted to reach for you, and pull you into her body and tell you that it was all okay. But the damaged had been done, she had said what did and there was no going back from it.

Not to mention, she didn’t fully trust herself to hold you in her arms right now.

The small sniffles she heard when she rushed past her and out of the library was the nail in the coffin, and she let out a low sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose, the pounding in her head getting harder and harder to ignore.

She needed to fucking eat.

You were avoiding Ellie like the plague.

You’d managed to get by throughout the week without seeing her. Ellie had messaged you the same night after the incident at the library, but you were too exhausted to even care. Her words still echoed in your head.

Because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone is using you

You winced, the tone of her words making you feel so fucking worthless. You huffed as you stared up at your ceiling, holding back the tears that would spill passed your cheeks and wet your pillow anyways.

You couldn’t wait to come back home after everything happened, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into your bed and ignore everything that had happened.

And you did, you went too and from class without saying a single word to anyone. Anytime you’d caught Ellie staring at you from across the room you’d ignore it, and keep your head down until you were in the clear.

What you did do however, was text Amber.

Amber had done a great job at distracting you from the horrible things your best friend said to you. You were devastated, and you realized while muting Ellie’s messages that Amber had given you her number within the week that Ellie wasn’t there. So you took advantage of it.

You were too miserable to talk to anyone in person, but the warm glow of your phone reflecting onto your face was enough to fill the small void that had become present within the week.

Texting Amber is actually what got you in the position you were in now.

It was Friday night, and you were stood in front of your mirror, smoothing down the clothes that gripped your body. You wore a pleated denim skirt that was far too short, watching yourself in the mirror alone was enough to make you feel shy. The black baby tee that you wore hugged you perfectly, leaving a sliver of skin revealed right below your shirt and above your skirt. You turned around, eyeing yourself and thinking about how ridiculous you looked, and how rifidi you’d this all was.

And the fact that Ellie would be there.

This was the party you had promised her you’d go with her to, and you were going with Amber, the girl she had yelled at in front of you for simply speaking to you.

You shook the thoughts away, fluffing out your hair and reapplying your favorite lip liner before you grabbed your black boots and zipped them onto your feet, grabbing your phone and leaving your apartment without another thought.

Before you knew it, you were stood outside of the godforsaken frat house you had been dreading all week.

You sent Amber a quick message before you locked your phone and made your way inside.

It was dark, purple and blue lights reflecting off the bodies that were smooshed together. The smell of sweat, weed and alcohol assaulted your nose, and the loud music was so strong that it made you feel like your insides were shaking, and you remembered why you hated the party scene so much.

You sighed as you squeezed passed them all, your hands gripping the ends of your skirt to keep yourself from flashing anyone.

You made your way into the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn’t as packed as the main area of the large house. You needed breather, because it was all hitting you slowly. You didn’t want to be there, and you almost always avoided places like this because this wasn’t your scene.

It was Ellie’s, and the idea that she was there at the party made you feel even worse.

You needed to distract yourself, and eventually find Amber. You turned around, grabbing a red solo cup and mixing equal parts of flat soda and whatever cheap liquor was available to you before you took a big gulp down, wincing at the sharp taste evading your taste buds.

You turned around, your butt pressed up against the counter as you babysat your drink, eyes drifting towards different people that came in and out of the kitchen. You were almost done, and you had almost completely convinced yourself to get up and leave, until you saw a familiar face beaming your way.

Amber.

You sighed in relief as she made her way towards you, her arms slipping around your waist and tugging you closer to her body. The alcohol already had you feeling warm, and the feeling of someone else pressed up against you made you feel even warmer. You giggled softly as she pulled back, hissing softly as she bit her lip.

“Fuck you look good…where have you been hiding all this, hm?” Her words made you blush, and you nudged the girl playfully before she grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers as she nodded her head ti the dance floor. “Shall we?”

You gave her a nod, cheeks burning red as you threw back the remaining alcohol in your cup before you let her lead you out.

Suddenly, the party didn’t feel all that suffocating, and neither did your thoughts. It felt easy, like breathing. Ambers hands were pressed up against your waist, pulling your ass flush against her friend as she guided you to grind against her to the heavy beat of the music, and you fucking liked it.

You liked being here without Ellie, being your own person, with your own thoughts and your own wants and needs. Gone were the days where you were her shadow, following behind the girl you desperately wanted more with just for her to say the things she said to you the last time you spoke. You felt like you were floating on air, your hands reaching behind you and tugging at ambers hair, pulling her closer to your neck that she was attacking with kisses.

You almost keeled over and died when you caught sight of the piercing eyes that were tracking you from across the room.

There she was, in all of her glory, Ellie fucking Williams. Your best friend was sat on a couch across from the dance floor, a pretty girl settled on her lap, nipping and tugging at her neck very similarly to the way Amber was doing to yours, and she looked like she wanted to fucking kill someone.

Her radiance had returned, no longer looking frail and ill, but instead beaming like a goddess who had come down the golden steps from the sky and gracing the presence of you mere mortals, if only for a second allowing you to bask in her beauty.

You felt your heart get stuck in your throat with the way she looked at you, her large hand gripping her solo cup so tightly you were sure she’d destroy it if she held it that way any longer. Her eyes made you whimper, and Amber must have assumed it was her making you whine because she smirked against your neck.

“Hmm…you wanna move this party upstairs baby?” Her question caught you off guard, and it took a small squeeze on your hip to break away from Ellie’s intense gaze. You gave her a small hum in response before she chuckled against you. “I said, do you wanna move this-“

Her words were cut off by a very familiar presence next to you.

You weren’t sure if you were drunk out of your mind, or if Ellie really had just crossed the entire house in half of a second, but all of a sudden she was no longer on the couch, and instead she was towering over both you and Amber.

Amber is rolling her eyes once she pries her lips away from your soft skin, staring up at Ellie as she keeps your body pressed against hers. “Are you fucking kidding me man? How many times are you gonna cock block, Williams?”

Ellie is visibly seething, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares down at you both. Her eyes drift towards the way Amber is gripping your hips, and the way your hands slowly drop down from her hair, and she wants to fucking kill someone.

“Leave before I fucking make you Amber”. Her voice is deep, and raspy, most likely from smoking all night. The mere sight of her is making you wet, because she’s glowing like she usually does and she looks like your Ellie again but just….more.

Amber sighs as she gently pushes your body away from hers, her own arms crossing over her chest as she steps closer towards Ellie, silently challenging her as she smirked. When she opens her mouth to say something, Ellie is already placing her palm on her forehead and harshly pushing her back.

Amber stumbles backwards a bit, catching her footing and staring up at Ellie, ready to push back with a punch of her own.

But the look in Ellie’s eyes is fucking scary, you both see it.

Her eyes are dark and low and she almost looks like a fucking animal under the dark light of the house, chest heaving as she watches Amber, ready for everything that she’s going to give her.

But she doesn’t, because she’s scurrying away like a little mouse, and Ellie is smirking in victory as she watches her.

You watch in disbelief as Amber scurries off, and you figure that’ll be the last time you ever hear from her.

You step in front of Ellie, staring up at her with wide eyes, because you truly cannot believe what she’s doing to you.

“Im fucking over this Ellie. You ignore me for an entire week, leave me worried sick about you, then you show up at my house in a weird manic state telling me I need to come to a party with you, and then the following Monday you’re making me fucking cry in a library because of how pathetic you said I am, and now I’m not even allowed to dance with a girl at a party?” Your words were fast, angry babbles leaving your lips as you stared up at her.

And her heart is tugging at the sight of you, because this is the first time she’s been able to talk to you in a week and you’re close to tears, again, and she fucking hates herself for it.

But she also can’t ignore how fucking good you look. Your skirt is hugging your plush hips so well, and it’s making her want to reach out and grab so fucking badly, because she expected this night to go so differently. She wanted to have a good night with you, hold you, tell you how much she wanted you.

And tell you how she had been through literal hell and back within the last two weeks.

Ellie had become a monster because of stupid fucking dare, and she didn’t know how to explain it to you. She didn’t know how to explain to you that the insatiable hunger she had for women could only be satisfied by you.

But you were still staring up at her, waiting for answers that she couldn’t give because she had dug herself into a hole too fucking deep to give you any answers.

So she did the only thing that had been on her mind for the last two weeks, and most likely ever since she had met you. She grabbed you.

She grabbed your wrist and pulled you up the stairs of the frat house to one of the spare rooms that was there, thanking whatever invisible force that was listening that not only was the room clean, but it was empty.

She ignored your whines and huffs as you tried tugging your way out of her grasp, because she knew it was now or never.

When she closed and locked the door behind you, you didn’t even have any time to scold her any further, because her strong hands were gripping your waist and her lips were on yours.

She swallowed the gasp that you let out, your eyes fluttering shut the second you tasted her, she tasted of weed, whiskey, and mint, and you quickly found yourself wanting more of it, because it was authentically her.

You whined against her, tugging at the hair at the nape of her neck as she kissed you desperately. Her tongue was pushing into your mouth and you suddenly felt dizzy, the sudden shift of your entire friendship was too much to handle. Going from not hearing from your best friend at all to having her tongue down your throat was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol that you as consumed earlier.

“Ellie…Els s-slow down…” you moaned out, yet your lips moving against hers said the complete opposite. You burned for her, your body screaming for her hands to be all over you all at once.

You could feel her smirk against your lips, made you whine. She was being so fucking smug, and it made you want her more. You were tugging at her shirt, any anger you had in your body gone, now replaced with the desperate need that you had for her, burning you from the inside out. “Tell me what you want baby..anything…I’ll do anything for you”

Her words were genuine, making you feel light headed. She made it sound like she’d go to the ends of the earth for you, crossing the seven seas for you, whatever you fucking wanted, she’d give it to you.

You moaned softly, confidence coursing through your veins as you grabbed her wrist, guiding her to cup your clothed pussy, letting her feel how wet you were. “Here…need you here Els…please…” you whined out.

Ellie groaned, feeling that familiar animalistic desire fill her up to the fucking brim. Her hunger was usually in her stomach, empty and annoying, but now, with you, she felt it pulsing against her cunt.

“Fuck…come here baby…lemme take care of you…” She walked you back towards the bed, her chest pressed against yours, she kept going until the back of your knees were pressing against the bed and forcing you to sit down on it for her.

You whined softly as you stared up at her in awe, feeling your heart burst with how fucking pretty your best friend looked standing above you. She used her knee to push your legs apart, spreading them further for her before she crawled towards you, pressing her lips against yours once again as she pushed you to sit back further on the bed.

“Lemme make it up to you Bambi…yeah?” Her words made you moan, and you nodded eagerly. For a minute her words from the library were flashing through your mind again your heart tugged, but the attention she was giving you now was truly making up for it.

She kissed down your body, pushing your shirt up and revealing your pretty nipples for her. She hissed, latching her lips around one of them as her hand pressed between your legs, feeling up the wet cotton of your panties.

You were like a dream, your moans and whines making her feel like it wasn’t even real for a moment. The small gasp you let out when she pushed your panties to the side was like music to her ears. You pouted softly when you felt her smirk against, your patience growing thinner and thinner with every passing moment.

“More Ellie..please…fuck…please” you begged, and Ellie wanted nothing more than to please you. She tugged your panties to the side, letting her long fingers dip into your soaked heat.

“Fuck…pussy is so fucking warm for me baby…my perfect fucking girl…gonna be dripping down my fingers if I waited any longer huh?” She questioned. You nodded eagerly, watching her with hazy, lust filled eyes. She reached that familiar spongy spot inside of your cunt and you were sure you were close to tears

Her words were too much, and the feeling of her long fingers, knuckle deep inside of your pussy had you a mess, a mess just for her, and something about that finally satisfied the hunger that she felt all the time.

She began kissing down your body, needing to feel more of you against her. She wanted to be filled up to the brim with you, her senses absolutely overwhelmed with you.

The sight of her slotted between your legs made you moan softly, your eyebrows furrowed as you watched her, a needy moan leaving your throat as your hand came down to tug at her hair gently.

Ellie let out a low groan when she caught sight of your pussy, licking her lips as she pressed her hands against your thighs, spreading you further.

“Fuck…would’a look at that…can practically see you throbbing for me baby…so wet and needy…fuck…lemme taste you baby…” she sighed out, her words muffled as she pressed her plump lips against your soaked core.

Your back arched almost painfully once you felt her skilled tongue flicking your clit back and forth. The feeling was so foreign yet so familiar, as if the girl belonged there, as if she was made to please you.

And she felt the exact same, the feeling of your hands tugging at her hair was like the purest ecstasy she had ever felt. Her green eyes staring up at you as she latched her lips to your weeping pussy, keeping her mouth suctioned onto you as you began grinding against her face.

She wanted to drown in you, she was even sure that if you suffocated her with your thighs, she’d been totally fine with it. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, stopping you from running away as you wriggled beneath her, unable to deal with the pleasure that she was giving you.

But she gave you no choice but to take it. Her lips were latched onto, making your back arch as you felt yourself cumming all over her face.

Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head as she moaned into you, and it was almost like she was the one that was experiencing the most electrifying orgasm that she had experienced in her entire life, and not you.

The pleasure was soon swapped out with an overwhelming feeling of sensitivity that was consuming you with every flick of her tongue. “Ellie…mmm…fuck..come here…wanna kiss you…please..” you whined out.

Her lips unlatched from your pussy with a pop, and it prompted you to whimper softly. Her face was soaked with your arousal, but her eyes were filled with pure love and adoration as she crawled her way up to you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. The taste of yourself made you moan, and Ellie was already pushing her tongue into your mouth and prepping you for what else she had planned.

Her words were muffled against your lips, as she didn’t want to leave your mouth for even a few seconds. “Can you give me one more baby? Wanna fuck you….can you do that for me baby?” You whined softly against her, already nodding and tugging at her top.

“Want it…fuck…I can do it I promise…please Ellie…” you sighed out, your hand slipping underneath her shirt and giving her nipple a soft pinch. She hissed softly at the feeling before she nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips. “That’s my girl…lay back for me baby…” She moaned out, her hands massaging your thighs as she gently pushed you back to lay on the bed.

You took it upon yourself to pull your top off, leaving you only in your skirt as you stared up at her. Ellie peeled her top off as well before she undid her jeans, pushing them down along with her boxers, leaving her naked above you.

You brought your hands up to undo the button to your denim skirt before she grabbed your hand, shaking her head as she swiftly pulled off your soaked panties. “Leave it…I like this skirt on you” she smirked down at you, causing you to blush.

She grabbed your thigh, slotting herself between you and pressing her wet pussy against yours. The second she felt you, she let out a long, loud moan. It was like the hunger she had been cursed with had finally been satisfied once she felt herself press up against you. She looked down at you, watching the way your slick and hers mixed together, coating your pretty pussy and glistening just for her. Her hand gripped your ankle, and you watched in awe as her tattoo flexed as she thrusted against you, her pussy bringing you pleasure that you had truly never felt before.

“H-Ahh! Fuck…Ellie please…please go faster…mmm…fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her pussy on yours.

A firm hand gripping your cheeks made your eyes flutter open, and you gasped softly at Ellie staring down at you, her lip tugged between her teeth as she groaned and moaned above you.

“Don’t close your eyes..you need to fucking look at me when I’m fucking you. Tell me who’s making you feel this good, tell me who you fucking belonged to” she gritted out, squishing your cheeks together so that your eyes would stay on yours.

And you always knew the answer, you’d always belonged to Ellie. From the moment she found you, you were hers, and there was no way you could ever deny that.

You moaned loudly at her words, reaching your hand towards her and catching her nipple in your hand, cupping her boob and flicking her nipple between your fingers before you nodded. “M’yours El…all yours…always…mmmph-…have been…ahh I’m gonna cum!”

Your words made her insides coil, and she felt like she could die happily right the and there. She nodded, prompting you further as she moved her hips faster, speeding up the pace of her pussy grinding down against yours.

“Cum for me, fuck….I fucking love you…i fucking love you Bambi…fuck!”

Your orgasm hit you like a train the second she said it, and you weren’t even totally sure if she really did say it. Sure you’d told each other you loved one another before, but god it was never like this. It wasn’t like she was on top of you fucking herself down onto you, but she was saying it, and you felt like you’d pass out.

And if you thought you were hallucinating before, god were you wrong now.

Because you swore when she threw her head back and came on your pussy, you saw pretty, pointy white fangs gleaming in the dark room.

She collapsed on top of you, breathing hard as she pressed her face into your neck. You stared up at the ceiling, her hands wrapping around your waist and keeping your naked body close to her own.

You were in shock, because your best friend had just fucked the day lights out of you and you weren’t totally sure if it was a dream, or if it was real, and she told you she loved you…

And you could feel her fangs grazing against your neck.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou 2

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littlest-w01f · 3 months

Text

Monster

Tamlin x Reader

TAMLIN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Reader sees her mate Tamlin lose himself to magic for the first time during her first Calanmai

Cw: Dark!Tamlin, vines as tentacles, corruption kink, breeding kink, erotic asphyxiation, impact play, monster fucking if you squint (don't read if you don't like it), Smut 18+MDNI

You stood outside the cave Tamlin was in, you'd been fashionably late, wearing a soft green dress that reached your upper thighs, parts of it translucent like a silk slip, and a sweetheart neckline that accentuated your breasts, it might have been the most skimpy thing you'd ever worn, a little gift for your mate, the High Lord, who was in a cave this very moment, the festivities of Calanmai about to begin.

You were surrounded by a bunch of Fae women, all looking expectantly at the cave your mate had gone in, your mate won't be who came out, The Hunter, Tamlin had called himself, would. Dark and strong magic in control of his mind and body.

The constant pull he had on your mating bond made you feel better about everything he had said, he won't be your Tamlin, he'd asked if there was anything you were uncomfortable with for him to do, it didn't feel like he would remember.

Your heart started to beat faster when you heard a growl from the cave he'd gone in, come out, he winnowed right in front of you, pure lust in his eyes, laurel leaves keeping his hair out of his painfully handsome face, he was bare-chested, painted in dark blue woads.

Things were quiet except for the beating of the drums that beat loudly, Tamlin gently caressed your cheeks with his knuckles, his claws threatening to break free before he gripped your neck, making you gasp for air and winnow you back to the cave he was in.

You groaned as your ass hit the hard ground, wincing slightly, Tamlin stalked close to you from where he was standing, nothing in him except pure lust and the need for his mate. A Hunter indeed, trapping a lovely maiden inside a cave, he was at the side of the entrance, and there was nowhere for you to run, except for deeper in the cave, not that you wanted to.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin you fully now," Tamlin groaned, walking to you like a predator stalking it's prey.

"Rough or gentle?" Tamlin growled mindlessly, a voice that didn't even seem his as he looked down your body, smirking at your dress, or rather barely a dress, "Aww, is this thin piece of fabric all for me?"

You nodded softly, "Y-yes." You bit your lips as he knelt between your legs, waiting for your answer to his former question, you were sure you could hear the sounds of leaves and vines from deeper in the cave, "Anything you want, my Lord."

You felt him shudder at the title from your lips as he pried your legs open, giving you a smile that showed his blunt canines elongating into fangs, "Rough then, for my good girl."

His words were filled with an unmistakable tone of dominance, as if he was taking control of every aspect of the situation. His hands gripped your thighs firmly. He leaned down, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel the weight of his body against yours as he whispered in your ear, "I'll fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight afterward."

Before you could even reply, he bent forward, slamming his lips against yours in an aggressive kiss, his hands gripping your clothes to rip them off your body, turning your silk and lace to shreds off your body, you gasped as the cold air of the cave hit your bare body, feeling Tamlin press against you fully, leaving the paint his body had been marked him to rub against yours, your own eyes hazy from the spell of the Rite, moulding into his, submitting to him, ready for anything he had to give you.

"You look so beautiful like this," He whispered, his teeth grazing your neck, "All submissive and willing."

You whimper lightly, leaning into his lips, "Tam-" He gave you a look and you corrected, "My Lord... Please."

"Please what, princess?" He taunted her, his lips trailing down your neck to your shoulders, the Hunter breathing you in, crazed by your scent, you could feel your arousal between your legs, spread apart for Tamlin to settle in between, your cunt pulsing for even an ounce of friction.

"Give me something," You panted, sensing his hard cock, still in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, "Please, anything."

"Oh, like this?" He asked curiously, his fingers ghosting over your clit making your hip buckle into his hand, he smiled watching you grip his hands to bring his hand closer.

He tutted, taking both your hands in his to pin them over your head with one, "Behave now, you said anything I want. And I want to make you cry." A wave of relief washed over you as he had a little mercy on you and rubbed your clit harder.

Your relief was short-lived as he pulled his hand away making you kick your feet in frustration, which earned a chuckle out of him. As you felt his warm breath against your neck, you couldn't help but tremble in anticipation. With a gentle tug, he pulled your head back by your hair, exposing your neck to his sharp teeth. A chill ran through your veins as you heard him growl, "You belong to me now, little mate. So, I can do whatever I want with you."

"Keep your hands up," He growls, bringing his hands down to spread your thighs, his teeth still on your sensitive neck as you whimper. Tamlin grunted in pleasure, his teeth sinking into your soft flesh. He bit down hard, causing a small trickle of blood to seep out from the wound. As he did so, he used his free hands to grab your breasts, twisting and pinching roughly, groping you fully. You let out a muffled cry, biting your lips, feeling the pain and the heat from his bite.

He shushed you gently, giving soothing licks to the bite mark, licking away the blood, "That's it... See, now I've claimed you fully, my precious mate." He quickly moved to bite the other side of your neck to give a symmetrical bit mark

"My Lord..." You breath, "My Tam..."

He moved to your face, a couple tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up at him, his kissed over your eye lids, making your tears fall as he moved to his pants, ripping them off his body, finally releasing his painfully hard cock, it stood tall and proud, the tip glistening with precum. He grabbed your leg, pulling it upwards, exposing your wet cunt to him even more.

"Look at you liking this," He mused as you tried thrust your core anywhere, for any sort of friction, you make the mistake of bringing your hand down from where he had told you to hold them, in a blink of an eye there are vines surrounding you, growing from his magic, under his control, he face is expressionless, "I told you to keep your hand up, Princess."

You gasp, struggling as the vines he grew gripped painfully tight around your arms, pulling them up, some sneaked past your hips, holding your legs open for him.

"You don't deserve to be stretch for me," He decides with a sadistic grin, with a wave of his hands the vines flip you on your stomach and tuck your knees under, a slight pain in your knees from being slammed down, spiking your every growing arousal. "I'll take you tight." He smirked, leaning over you.

You wait in anticipation for him, to feel the nudge of him against your dripping slit but what you felt was a hand, the hand of a beast, Tamlin's beast, claws sharp and long, soft golden fur growing on his Fae arms, somewhere between completely Fae and beast, he held you by your neck in a tight grip, making it difficult for you to breath.

You jerk with a cry of pain from a resounding slap, his hand on your ass, with a force that would cause a mark, another followed on the opposite side. You were breathless and aroused, waiting for his next move when you, at last, left his tip nudge at your wet slit, grinding against him, or trying to, after being bound, vines that stalked to between your legs, a few thinner ones wrapping around your clit to tug at the neglected nub causing you to shake.

Tamlin's claws dug into your thigh, holding you tightly in place. He leaned forward, his face inches away from yours. The cave seemed to spin around you, as if they were both caught in a whirlwind of passion and lust. His voice was low and rough, like the rumble of the beast he hadn't fully let out. "Now, I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You barely muffled the scream that erupted from your throat as he plunged into your cunt fully, a vine wrapping itself around your neck and squeezing tight to quiet you down, not giving you any time to adjust as he began a rough pace. "That's it..." He growled, purely animalistic, "Scream my name."

And you did, you screamed his name with every thrust, every whine and moan that left your lips, his name followed, your High Lord, your mate, legs shaking with the urge to cum at the pleasure of his cock's punishing pace and at the vines tugging at your clit.

"I'm gonna make you a mother," Tamlin groaned, thrusting in as far as he could, "Give you all my heirs. That's what you want, don't you?" He felt you through the bond as you nodded fast, a gentle kiss on the back of your shoulder blades seemed foreign compared to everything else as he whispered, "Cum for me, Princess."

You came hard, clenching hard around Tamlin's cock, milking his cock when he hit his high right after you, fucking his thick knot in, making yours eyes bulge out at the stretch that was pure beast. He emptied his seed in you, dropping lightly as your legs twitched, his knot keeping him in and not letting him pull out.

You both whimpered, the spell of the Rite washing away as Tamlin wrapped a gentle arm around your waist, stroking your now filled abdomen.

The vines and claws retracted as he turned you on your side, still buried inside you, "The knot is good, hm?" He kissed your hair softly. "Keeps my cum in you."

"Let go for me, dear," He gently rubbed the welts and red marks the vines and his hands had given you, lulling you to relax with a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Rest up, there is more for tonight."

{General Taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

#acotar #acotar series #acosf #acomaf #acowar #tamlin smut #tamlin #tamlin acotar #pro tamlin #tamlin x reader

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