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brattyfics · 2 days

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Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her.

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel.

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?”

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.”

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously.

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind.

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around.

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all.

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?”

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap.

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed, and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles.

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom.

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady.

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time.

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out.

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?”

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray.

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

#rebel ridge #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond x black!reader #rebel ridge fanfiction #terry Richmond x black oc #Terry Richmond x black reader

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 days

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It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

It all started on a Sunday.

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed.

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised.

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar.

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite.

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned”

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed.

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you.

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty.

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.”

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you.

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty.

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself.

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures.

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away.

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work.

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank.

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now”

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach.

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment.

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you.

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him.

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion.

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins.

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you.

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain.

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free.

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm.

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.”

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed.

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Just…me”

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?”

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy.

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance, just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act.

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you.

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death.

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck”

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded.

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway.

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath.

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

#hot priest!joel miller #hot priest!joel #priest!joel miller #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel miller x you #joel tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #one shot #the last of us hbo #joel miller au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day

Text

Finer Things 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: back on my bs.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“Dessert,” Tony declares as he takes the small menu from the middle of the table. “You a creme brulee girlie? Cheesecake?” His eyes flick down to the menu, “I know your mom has a sweet tooth.” He snickers as he opens the leather folio, “oh, sticky toffee. Messy. Hm, the souffle sounds good. How about it? Soft, gooey.”

“Mm, what’s the cheesecake?” Your mother leans in as she swirls her third glass of wine.

Tony seems almost to wince as he looks at her. It feels like he’s been staring at you for much of the night. It didn’t make it feel any less like you’re the third wheel.

“Apple and salted caramel,” he shows her the menu.

Your phone vibrates in your bag. You move the purse into your lap and reach inside to mute it. As you look up, you find Tony’s dark eyes once more set on you.

“Sorry, just turning that off,” you explain, “my friend...”

“Oh, is that the one that was with you at the talk? My biggest fan? Besides you, of course?”

Your mother laughs and touches his sleeve, “oh, you are so silly. Sweetie, isn’t he silly?”

“Yes, sweetie, aren’t I so fun?” He seems to mock her. She doesn’t mind as she’s more interested in her wine.

“Um, yeah, Perry... she’s in my... my stats class.”

“Stats. Bullshit. I paid some dweeb to take my exam,” he chortles, “I bet you’re gonna brag all about me to her, huh? Twist the blade a little?”

“Uh, what?” You stick your lip out in surprise, “no, sir. Tony,” you cringe at your slip, “no, I wouldn’t.”

“Ah, come on,” he reaches across the table, “let’s get a pic for Perry. She can drool over it.”

“No, no,” you wave him off, “that’s okay. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“No trouble. I’m offering, sweetheart. Be a good memory. I mean, you had dinner with Tony Stark. Hate to stroke my own... ego but you know, some people pay for that pleasure,” he chuckles again. “Come on,” he beckons you over again, “get in close.”

You look around awkwardly. You hate taking pictures in public. You see others do it and it always looks so awkward.

“Go on,” your mother goads. “Live a little.”

You glance at her sharply before you sidle over the seat. You get up as Tony sits back and you sit on the end of the curved bench. He taps your lower back, “gotta get closer than that,” he purrs. You slide in and he flips his palm up, “phone, sweetheart.”

You shove your hand into your purse and find your phone. You unlock the camera and give it to him; he nearly snatches it first. He extends his arm and leans into you, wrapping his arm around you. He grips your hip under the table as his cologne smothers you.

“Smile pretty for me, sweetheart,” he smirks and snaps the photo just as you muster a surprised pout. “Ha that’s cute. We’re keeping it,” he lowers the phone and examines the picture. “I’m just gonna send a copy to myself...”

“What?” You squeak.

“Sure. It’s funny.” He taps his thumb on the screen. “And you’ll have my number. Just in case.”

“Oh,” you murmur. You don’t argue but wait until he hands your cell back. You take it but as you go to get up, he holds onto you.

“So, dessert then,” he squeezes your hip so his fingers curl into your soft flesh, “how about it?”

“Oh, they have a special apple cider,” your mom looks over the menu. You squirm. She can’t be that drunk. Especially as his hand moves--

“Um, yeah, sure, but I need to... go to the bathroom,” you exclaim and pull away before his hand can settle on your ass. You really don’t think he meant it but you’re about to combust. “I’ll be right back, I just need to... go.”

You stumble off the bench as you stomach hits the table. Your mom looks up, an annoyed stitch between her brows, and she sighs.

“Hurry up, sweetie.”

“I’ll order you that souffle,” Tony offers.

“It does sound delicious,” your mother waves the menu at him. “Maybe I’ll have one too.”

You flit off before you can dissolve into embarrassment. You’re used to being the awkward one. You don’t mind the armour of your social dissonance that keeps you out of the way, but he just drags you out and puts you in the light. You hate that.

You’re all too happy to hide in the bathroom. You take your time, not even eager to try the souffle. Dinner is still settling and you’re not sure it ever will with how your stomach mulches nervously. When you come out into the dining room again, you swerve around the other tables.

Your mom scowls at her empty glass as Tony sits indifferently next to her. You haven’t missed the way other patrons glance over at the man they’ve only ever seen on magazines and television. You resume your seat across from him as he perks up.

“There she is,” he flutters his fingers at the table, “dessert waiting and all.”

“Oh, thanks,” you look down at the dark souffle dusted with icing sugar.

“We only waited for you to dig in,” you mother scoffs.

“You always get snappy with the wine, Joyce?” Tony challenges and gives her a nudge. “You should be happy to get to see your brilliant daughter. She really is just... wonderful. You raised her right.”

Your mom looks at him and grins. He added just enough praise to tweak her narcissistic flare. She puts her shoulders up.

“Well, twenty years of hard work,” she preens.

You pick up your fork first. Anything to keep you from having to speak. You poke into the souffle as Tony puts his attention to his own plate. Your mom slices into her cheesecake and hums as she tastes it. You take a small bite and look up as heat speckles your cheeks.

Tony stares at you as he sucks his spoon clean. You fidget at the way his irises seem to blend into his pupils. Your lashes flick and you look down at the spongy souffle. Your stomach is doing somersaults. Why is he looking at you like that? Why is he looking at you at all?

You scoop up more of the dessert and focus on each bite. You know he’s watching. You feel it. You can still feel the tingle on your hip too. Right where he latched on.

You haven’t had much success with boys but you don’t think that’s normal. Especially since he should have his arm around your mother. Shouldn’t he? Maybe you’re just put off by the surprise of it all. Well, if you go by the tabloids, he won’t be around very long anyhow.

You clear your plate and wash it down with the last of your wine. You only had the single glass and it took all night to nurse it. You peer over at your mom. Her eyes are glassy as she silently ponders her crust.

“Mom, you alright?” You ask.

“Oh, you know, the doctor gave me these new pills. I think the wine might be mingling a bit too much with those,” she trills with laughter, “oh my.”

Huh? Your mom’s always been on one form of antidepressant or another, you’re not entirely sure. The therapist wrote her scripts and you never bothered to check them.

“Ah, the old Xanny-cabernet double hitter,” Tony chirps. You look at him sharply. “Relax, honey, I’ll take care of her. Huh, Joyce? I always do, don’t I?” He rubs her shoulder as she nods and slumps back, grinning.

“Think maybe she needs to go,” you say as you stare at your mom with concern.

“Don’t worry,” he raises his hand, “I’ll get us paid up and you can help me get her back to her hotel.”

Another charge on her Mastercard. You try not to worry about it. You spent half your teenage years making sure she paid the bills before she went to the boutique but you have your own money to worry about now.

“Okay,” you agree. You just want to make sure she’s alright.

The server returns and Tony asks for the check. Your mom’s eyes droop with each passing minute. When at last, it’s all squared, she’s about to keel over the table.

As Tony helps her out of the booth, you burn with mortification. You can only watch helplessly. She knew she shouldn’t drink on her new meds but it doesn’t make you feel any better about it. You should have said something when she poured the second glass. Sometimes you feel more like her parent than her child.

“Keep her here, will ya?” He leaves you just outside the door.

You watch Tony walk away and try not to make eye contact with anyone else coming or going. You shiver as you support your mom and she babbles, “isn’t he so handsome, sweetie? And rich? And perfect?”

“Mm, yeah, mom,” you agree because you know she’s not really looking for an answer.

“You know, it’s the funniest thing. I met him at the jewelers... what do you think he was doing in our town? Nothing much going on...” she trails off.

You nod and watch the street. A red car pulls up and revs. Tony gets out and winks as he comes back up the pavement. He reaches for your mom and she staggers into him.

“Oof, honey,” he snickers. “How about you take the front and I’ll get mom in the back laying down?”

“Right,” you agree, “it’s not... I... I can get the bus.”

“Nah, baby, I’ll make sure you get home safe. I can’t tell your mom I just let you wander off into the dark.” You scrunch your lips and nod. You walk to the car next to him as he helps your mother move her weak legs. “Get the door, sweetheart.”

You pull the back door open and you find yourself nearly crushed against it as he angles your mom inside. As he pushes her up the seat, he presses into you. He bends her legs and they fall sideways. He huffs and stands, turning to face you. He doesn’t back up.

“Ah, now, sweetheart, you keep those hands to yourself,” he snickers.

“What?” You breathe.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he purrs and brushes his fingertips down your sleeve, “you’re shaking like a leaf.”

You shiver but you’re not sure it’s the frigid air. He backs up and you skirt around the door. He shuts it and quickly follows you, opening the front before you can.

“Ah, allow me,” he steps back.

You duck your head down and get in the passenger seat. Your heart is thumping. It’s nothing. It’s in your head. He’s just being... him? With how he’s behaved all night, you can’t say it’s unusual. You suppose he gets away with it because of his reputation.

He shuts the door and goes around the other side. He drops into the driver’s seat and clears his throat. He pushes back his jacket and pulls on the seatbelt behind his shoulder.

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Can’t risk that pretty face, can we?” He hums and taps the ignition button. “You want me to warm ya up?” He hits another button as you gape at his suggestion. “Seat warmer.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

“Hmm, you know, been a while since I had a pretty young thing like you in my car,” he adjusts the mirror and checks his reflection. “The grey tends to keep them away.”

“Ah, yeah,” you agree tacitly.

He strains to see around the car ahead of him and pulls out. He clucks, “so... you don’t like it?”

“Don’t like... what?”

“The gray hair,” he asks.

“I didn’t... no, I didn’t say that.”

“But you agreed.”

“I-- I didn’t notice. Really. I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind, huh?” He combs the hair at his temple, one hand still on the wheel. “So, you think it makes me more handsome? Defined?”

“I don’t... I don’t know,” you pick at your nails nervously.

“You know, you can be honest. Won’t hurt my feelings. I’m more than just my good looks, you know?” He laughs as he leans on the pedal.

“I’m not... I wouldn’t lie,” you say.

He snorts, “oh, sweetheart, I know you wouldn’t. I like that about you.” He tilts his head at the road, “I can see right through you.”

You swallow down the silence. The tension cords around your throat and you cough. You’re not sure why he’s so concerned with what you think. He should be more worried about your mother snoring in his backseat.

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #series #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #finer things #iron man #avengers

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songmingisthighs · 3 days

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Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. vi

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 2.8 k

warning : argument, mentions of cheating, negative depiction of wooyoung, mentions of loss, calling an adulteress an assortment of names, idk what else tbh lmk if there is anything else I should add

a/n : I FINALLY UPDATED !!!!! this chapter might be slightly shorter compared to the others but trust me when I say it's very much intentional because I just want to focus this chapter on this one specific interaction. some sort of catalyst or like break from the obliteration of pyp!woo's image ig lmaooooo BUT YAY I DIDN'T FORGET TO POST PYP THIS MONTH !!!!

buy me coffee ?

After the fiasco that was your unveiling of a VERY important information about a staff of the academy, Wooyoung was immediately pulled in to get his side of the story. And of course, unfortunately, you. Luckily, you didn't get chastised by anyone because you were CLEARLY the victim in this situation. Heck, the HR team even reached out to apologize to you for the inconvenience you experienced due to their staff's "misconduct" because you're one of the founders's wives. It was an interesting way of saying that their staff is a cheating whore without any redeeming value but you'll take what you can get out of them and the situation. Which also includes his own friend group contacting you every now and then to make sure that you are okay and some (Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho) even going as far as swearing to denounce their familial relations with Wooyoung which was sweet.

Speaking of Wooyoung, he had been shoved into the heap of horseshit that he had piled on himself. You honestly have never seen him so down because he was "suggested" to take an extra two weeks of break to "settle down from the issue" which was really code for HR still having to clean up his mess because Harin decided to not go quietly. From what you heard from a reliable source (Jongho over pastry and coffee after he ditched his vocal classes to gossip), Harin came back the day after she officially got fired and made a ruckus. Literally, she went crazy and made a mess of the lobby; throwing chairs and tables around, scattering pamphlets, breaking vases, and screaming random weird things like how the company is a misogynist for firing a woman for something that was beyond her control. Safe to say, because Harin refused to move to a quieter spot, Hongjoong had to step in and reiterate all the mistakes she had made including but not limited to her having an affair with a married man who was her boss. Hongjoong had even told her that while there was another party involved, another party that acknowledged the mistakes that he had made and agreed to accept whatever disciplinary actions were required, it was also her choice to partake in such behavior. Long story short, a student uploaded the whole thing on YouTube and as of today, there were 15 different TikTok remixes ranging from EDM, screamo, and even a Donald Trump edit. Without Jongho pointing it out, you could imagine that Harin's career in South Korea was over, not because of the cheating, but because of her disorderly conduct.

You found yourself spending time rather peacefully in recent times which was surprising since your house seems to always be in a state of chaos. For once, Wooyoung didn't try to make you talk to him or about him. In fact, he had the decency to be very considerate of you and your feelings, particularly about being in the same room as him. It made you feel slightly bad to be honest because although you both were going through something, he was in the middle of being the butt of the joke and jab by everyone at the company. It was sad and pathetic but also very much deserved. Sure you sometimes found his isolation to be sad, pathetic, and downright pitiful, but then you remember what he did and you remembered how he put himself in that position without even considering the repercussions.

The same could be said about Dayoung. Well, only in the sense of her isolation seemingly from the rest of the world. Your outgoing, extroverted daughter seemed to spend a good chunk of time locking herself inside her room after school. Usually, you would have to turn into a negotiator three times a week just to get your daughter to come home right on her curfew. This time around, you had a worse time trying to get her out, even making her run some errands just so she could get some fresh air. It wasn't until a while later that Wooyoung clued in on why Dayoung was acting like that. The way you went off on Wooyoung for breaking the news in such a manner without you present or even consulting you. You did try to understand that maybe he just... slipped or that he was so emotional that it just slipped out but the point stood that he waited until you were trying to piece things together to finally tell you. Yet another secret he kept from you. Considering the frequency of things he said but hid away from you, you had to think if this was some sort of behavioural pattern that he hadn't exhibited even if you both had been married for quite a long time. Maybe he had became a master a suppressing it and all it took was you forcing the truth out of him to make said behavior to come back to the surface.

On the other hand, Woohyun was turning into a more mature and responsible version of himself. the day you both came home from confronting the slut, Woohyun became so very helpful towards you. The first thing he did was took your bag and brought it over to the kitchen table before he dashed to the bathroom to wash his hands, cleaning himself up before you had to tell him to. Then he made himself very available for you by making sure that he spent almost every single waking or available moments with you. When you;re in the kitchen doing the dishes or cooking, he would be on the counter or the dining table doing his homework. Sometimes he would even try to do chores like one time he tried to help you bringing his sister's laundry basket from the second floor and he ended up scattering everything down the stairs. Woohyun was upset and worried that you would be mad but instead, you laughed it up and helped him clean up before teaching him how to carry items that are heavier than him down. Although you couldn't find it in yourself to bring it up in case you ended up accidentally telling him yourself, you had a feeling that Woohyun was trying to distract you from the reality of what was going on with your husband in his own way. One of the things that solidified your assumption was the fact that Woohyun had limited contact with his dad significantly. The two of them used to spend time together playing games or pulling pranks on one another and even on you or Dayoung but he had suddenly refuse to spend elective time with Wooyoung no matter how much Wooyoung tried to negotiate with him with everything that he got. Despite that, Woohyun dudb't lose respect for his dad.

"Mom?"

You almost dropped the plate you were washing when you heard a voice come up from the doorway. It was surprising to see Dayoung standing there, timid like a deer because she was always happy, lively, and rambunctious, even straight-up disrespectful to you, your space, and your boundaries. But never this. She had been so... quiet for a week and it would've made you freak out had it not been for Wooyoung letting you know that Dayoung knew. That was all he said, she knew. You did not know what had gotten over you to not deck Wooyoung right then and there but he should absolutely consider himself a lucky bastard.

The sight of your own daughter standing there made you feel... anxious. You probably (most likely) should not be afraid of a bitty teenager, but how can you not? It's not like you thought that she was going to attack you or worse, ask you to give Wooyoung a sponge bath. But you just never saw your daughter this... Muted. It was as if she had stepped into an old TV where there was nothing but black and white. You silently wished that Woohyun had not gone to the zoo with his playdate friends because he would be a great buffer. Or witness for whatever that was bound to happen.

"D-do you need help with the dishes?" She asked, stepping closer to you slowly. At first, you were surprised, not exactly expecting that the first thing she would say was an offer to help you with a chore. But, you welcomed her with a smile and nodded, stepping to the side so she could come next to you and start wiping down the washed dishes.

There were no words exhchanged between the two of you for the first five minutes or so but it wasn't awkward. It was the first time that the silence was peaceful when it was just the two of you. Usually, the silence would always only come from Dayoung and it was because she was mad at you for something. Not at you and Wooyoung, just you. You were always the receiver of her animosity even when she was mad at her dad for whatever insignificant reason there could be, but this time was different.

"Mom..." she called you suddenly but what came next surprised you instead, "I'm sorry," she started, not looking at you which was unfortunate because you were staring at her with a very priceless dumbfounded expression. "I- I- what?" "I'm sorry for... This, my part in... Whatever's going on with you and dad. I'm really sorry for making you take care of him. Had I known, I wouldn't have made you take him in," she confessed and you could see that she was starting to tear up. Your heart broke and you really wanted to pull her in and give her the biggest hug that you could muster just to show your support for her but you knew that it would just make yourself feel better for accomplishing something and not actually help her feel better. So you took a step closer to her and breathed out a sigh of relief when she didn't push you away. "I'm really, really, REALLY sorry mom. He's the worst husband ever," she sniffed which made you chuckle as you blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, "Well, I would say that Emperor Peter, Catherine the Great's husband is a far worse husband than your father."

Your attempt at making light of the situation was met with Dayoung squinting her eyes at you. "Mom, I'm serious. I've heard about my friend's dad cheating but not like this. Not in your situation, and not with someone dumb enough to think she can substitute a hand wrap for martial arts with boob tapes," she scoffed, annoyed. You sighed and shrugged, "Well, people are complicated, sweetie. I... I'm not mad, annoyed, or angry that you wanted me to take care of your dad because, in retrospect, it WAS the absolute right thing to do. I mean, your dad was injured and he's facing such a hard time at work. It would be absolutely wrong to just toss him to someone else. Who would we even toss him to? His friend? His parents?" "His whore, mom. We could've tossed him out and have his whore handle him."

The very second the words left Dayoung's mouth, your eyes widened and your neck snapped in her direction to see her frowning, staring up at you. "He's a cheating bastard and we have the right to not even be in contact with him anymore," she curtly stated. "Jung Dayoung," you started shakily. Dayoung simply shook her head to cut you off, "No, mom, oh my God, you need to stop being a doormat." "Dayoung!" you exclaimed, surprised that she was able to say such a thing and perhaps slightly offended. "It's true! God, mom, how long have you known that he has a side piece who's as dumb as a bag of rocks? How long have you held everything in and just let him walk all over you? He fucking CHEATED on you mom! When you were so down in the dumps to the point that you couldn't even take care of yourself properly! You used Woohyun and I as a distraction, shoving all the attention and care to what, fill in the void over the loss of my would've-been sibling? And where was he? He was with some other woman because he is the worst of the worst and I will never forgive him for what he did to our family!"

Maybe it was the volume of her voice or the massive weight of her words but you felt your blood boiling and before you even realized it, you had shoved a plate into the sink and you were huffing, "Jung Dayoung that's enough, you should not talk about your father that way." "Why? Why shouldn't I, mom? My God, this is the first time in like, maybe ever that I'm standing up for you, this is me protecting you and yet you're still trying to make excuses for that pathetic son of a bitch who betrayed his family!?" "He did not betray our family, okay? He betrayed me, Dayoung!"

Just like it was the first time Dayoung defended you, you had experienced your first time screaming at her and to say that she was scared was an understatement. Dayoung shut her mouth and stared at you with sadness in her eyes because she had yet to comprehend why you were still trying to stand up for your cheating husband.

"Your dad did nothing to our family, sweetie. He did this to me," you sighed, closing your eyes and exhaling shakily as you used both of your hands to hold onto the counter to stabilize yourself. "Sure, he might have altered the dynamic and whatever else in our family but he... What he did was nothing against our family but it was just against me. At least, that's what I think. I don't think I have it in me to find out exactly why he did what he did because I'm weak, Dayoung. I'm a coward like that." you turned to her and shed a tear, breaking Dayoung's heart as she realized just how strong you were all this time.

"Then why, mom? Why are you still letting him off?" Dayoung asked, her voice cracking. You tearily chuckled and shrugged, "Who said that I am? I'm doing this, ALL of this, not because I want to. I did it, because for the longest time, that was what we have agreed on in our marriage. He deal with the monetary stuff and I deal with the family stuff. As much as it hurts, no matter if I like it or not, he is still my family because his behavior be damned, he... He gave me you and your brother and that is something I would never regret. For that, I will always be thankful to him and that is also why you should still respect your father. You can be mad at him, you can be hurt by what he did, but your respect should be non-negotiable not because he deserved it, but because your dad an I taught you better than that. He truly loves you, Dayoung. He might not love me anymore but you and Woohyun are the apples of his eyes, you are his stars in the dark night sky, and you are the best thing he had and would ever achieve. Do you understand me?"

Dayoung groaned and dropped her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist. "Damn it mom, why do you have to make it hard for me to unleash my wrath on him?" You couldn't help but chuckle and return her hug, "Sorry sweetie, part of my job is to make sure you grow up to be a decent human being and sometimes I have to make or say things you don't like," you chuckled, making Dayoung roll her eyes but nudge her hips with yours.

As you spend a heartwarming moment with your daughter, you can't help but let your mind slip and travel somewhere else. You couldn't help but think about how you and Dayoung would probably not have experienced such a changing moment in your life. So as much as you hate it, there was a silver lining in this whole shenanigan.

Beyond the heartwarming scene in the kitchen, alone in the dark and cold emptiness of the living room, Wooyoung stood with his back to the wall. Having come down when he heard the commotion, Wooyoung initially thought he might have to step in to get Dayoung off your back. But when he heard you yell back at Dayoung, he stopped in his tracks and debated If he should stay or leave until his interest was piqued and he ended up listening in on the conversation which left him feeling broken down. Despite the gnawing pain that made him feel like he couldn't breathe, he knew he deserved that and more. He should not complain and instead, he should just accept the harsh truth. Not just the facts that you laid out to Dayoung, but also the truth that your action further proved that he was truly the devil in this equation. And perhaps he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@atinyreads @strawberry-yeo @soobiverse @vixensss @smally97 @maidens-world @yunhoswrldddd @imcoenffl @nescaffei @miaatiny @showmehoseok @tmingi @wlv-asteria @sunwoosbaby @hyukssunflower @remi-young @roguesthetic

@staytiny816 @dearinsaniiity @scentednerdenemy

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17

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zepskies · 2 days

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Podcast Interview With Idling in the Impala: "Y/N and Let Y/N…"

Here we go! Sandra and Kasey, the lovely hosts of @idlingintheimpalapodcast — the podcast for all things SPN and fanfiction — invited me on the pod for an interview…

We chatted about Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles’ early roles, the best and worst seasons of SPN, the joys and pains of writing Soldier Boy, and much, much more.

That’s right, there be some hot takes coming in this convo, and I had an absolute blast with these two! (And like I said in Sunday's announcement, I’m also putting my name and my voice out there for the first time! 😆)

So if any of that sounds interesting, feel free to dive in!

(**Important Note: Just to preface, we recorded this back in June, so it was before I posted certain stories or even started developing Lost on You. It was also when Tumblr activity/engagement was going through a spring/summer slowdown lol.

Links to all the fics and podfics we mentioned are at the end of this post.)

Have a listen: ⤵️

youtube

Interview Timestamps –

(Plus fic recs, SPN writer shoutouts, and more!)

1:44 – Who’s your guy: Sam or Dean?

3:35 – Getting into Supernatural for the first time (and seeing “Deanisms” in Jensen’s early roles).

10:15 – We debate the best and worst seasons of SPN: talking Mary Winchester, the British MOL, MOC Dean vs. Demon Dean, Chuck/God villainy, “jump the shark” moments, and that ending.

30:29 – Favorite SPN characters besides Sam and Dean.

32:34 – Writing fanfiction, joining Tumblr, and writing reader inserts vs. OCs.

38:05 – To “Y/N” or not “Y/N,” and the power of 2nd person. (**Disclaimer: Despite my hot take on this, I’ve loved a lot of stories by authors who use Y/N in reader insert stories.

Also, if I’m remembering the book You and its characters incorrectly forgive me, it’s been like 5 years since I read it lol.)

51:00 – Favorite fanfic tropes in romance, the joys and challenges of writing Soldier Boy (AKA: the Original Asshole), and attempting to humanize Ben in Break Me Down.

Shoutout to @deans-spinster-witch always for giving me the inspiration to write BMD. 💚

Why We Love The Boys – A review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes

1:07:57 – Engaging with readers, tips on increasing engagement, optimizing your Tumblr blog, writing schedules and processes, and incorporating reader feedback into stories.

1:26:38 – Sandra graciously narrated Midnight Espresso (Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader). We chat about what sparked the idea for the ME-verse, self-representation in fanfic, feeding Dean, loving Dean, and writing about culture and ethnicity in the fandom space.

1:38:26 – Chatting about the inspirations behind Smoke Eater, a firefighter!Dean AU; law enforcement procedurals, House MD, and researching for stories.

1:44:30 – Which Jackles character is the easiest or most fun to write?

1:47:39 – The challenges of writing Sam vs. Dean.

1:53:15 – Shoutouts! To some of my favorite SPN authors. I could only remember a few people off the top of my head (stupid me), but I love all of you!!

@waynes-multiverse @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @luci-in-trenchcoats @rizlowwritessortof @waywardxwords

@deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15

@justagirlinafandomworld @kaleldobrev @artyandink @princessmisery666 @wayward-dreamer (– and many more.)

2:00:40 – How I came up with my username.

2:05:04 – Kasey’s Secret Question…

2:07:38 – Advice to fanfic writers and creatives for inspiration and/or wisdom.

2:16:35 – Sandra and Kasey’s lovely outro: self-representation in fandom, escapism, diverse voices, and more. (“Reach out a hand. Touch somebody. …Not like that.”)

📖 Fics Mentioned:

Sandra: @talltalesandbedtimestories -

Some Sunny Day Series – Dean Winchester x OFC - (I'm in the process of reading this entire series and it's been a joy to read! 💜)

Past Due – Dean Winchester x Reader

The Iceman Cometh – Dean Winchester x Reader

Cowboy Canter (Original Fiction) – Inspired by cowboyish Dean/Jensen.

Kasey: @sam-is-my-safe-word -

English Cottage-verse – Sam Winchester x Reader (I've read it and it's fantastic! 💜)

(K)not for sale – Soldier Boy x Dean Winchester

Alex (Zep/Me) -

Break Me Down – Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Midnight Espresso (& the Series Masterlist) – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Dream With Me – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Smoke Eater – Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Every Second Counts – Russell Shaw x F. Reader

🎙️ Stories/Podfics Sandra has narrated for me:

Podfic Playlist

And please remember to check out all the other awesome interviews, narrated podfics, and fun topics covered by Sandra and Kasey on the Idling in the Impala Podcast!

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themasterofo · 2 days

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To My Readers

Please bear with me while I take a somewhat more serious tone today. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and finally got to putting my thoughts down.

I have always kept an eye on you readers who like and reblog my stories, and it has not gone unnoticed that, in addition to girls who more-or-less match the submissive female character I write, many of my readers are lesbian, or trans, or even sub men. Some of you I've chatted with in the past, even to the point of giving permission to rewrite my stories, altering some preferred biology and/or gender details.

I dislike virtue signaling for its own sake. I find a lot of it distasteful and self-serving, but I also know that statements of support can mean a lot to people who may not be sure that they are welcome. So it's in that spirit that I did decide to write this.

Assuming you are an adult, and that you are not a predator, you are welcome here.

Whether Dom(me) or sub, whether male, female, or anything else, and whatever genitals or body you were born with or have managed to make for yourself, you are welcome here.

I write about denial from my particular perspective, which includes my own sexuality, orientation, and gender. In my mind, the man in my stories is me, and the girl is an afab girl. Because of this, you'll hear talk about his cock, her cunt, and things like this. But, if that doesn't match you, and you still want to read, and if you identify with any part of my writing, you have my absolute blessing to take whatever liberties you wish in your own mind. Not that you needed my permission, but maybe for some it might help.

To be clear, for my own part, I'm not really interested in interacting sexually with sub men, or with girls who don't match the physical type of person that I'm attracted to (girls with a cunt). I don't mean any offense here and I hope that none is taken. For me, life is too short to do anything other than follow what makes you feel authentically happy, and that's part of what does. But it costs me nothing to accept the gender or sexuality that someone identifies with themselves, and I consider it a matter of kindness and decency to do so.

But I am also happy to chat with anyone in about denial and so forth, as long as there is respect and if I have the time (the latter being a larger issue these days!)

So in summary, welcome. If you're a sub, I hope you find inspiration here, and I hope you can learn to edge more and cum less, if you agree with me that this is what's probably best for you. If you're a Dom(me), I hope you enjoy the stories and maybe get some inspiration and ideas to take responsibly to the sub(s) in your life. I tell sub girls they don't have my permission to cum when reading my blog, but if that doesn't resonate with you - you do you. And if you want to imagine that my Dom character is a woman, or that the sub character has a cock, or whatever else will make bring you some happiness, just do it.

#serious #community #respect #denial

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apomaro-mellow · 16 hours

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Two in the Bush 2

Part 1

Steve called them both separately and arranged a meet up at Benny’s. As the hour drew closer, he felt himself getting more nervous. He had only wanted a baby. He didn’t really care about the alpha who would give him said baby. They were an afterthought. And really, neither Billy nor Eddie seemed like strong father figures, he had to admit. Both were rough around the edges in different ways.

Billy was more aggressive, which made for great sex but nothing about him seemed paternal. The few times they talked about their lives, it was clear to Steve that his own father had been lacking. And the same could be said about Eddie, who was as impulsive as he was flighty. He was definitely the more romantic of the two but that wasn’t saying much.

His relationship with both was mostly physical. He’d never even brought up pups because who would mention that desire to a fuck buddy that they’d known for less than a year?

Best case scenario, neither of them wanted anything to do with it and Steve would be able to freely raise his pup with Robin’s help. He didn’t feel the need for a DNA test, the two alphas looked so different, Steve was sure he’d be able to eventually tell who the father was.

But telling two bullheaded men that one of them had fathered your child could be…Steve was going to use the word interesting. He didn’t think either of them wanted to raise a kid. But their alpha instincts might see the other as a competitor. Nevermind the fact that this was never exclusive.

Steve got to Benny’s early, ready to mediate. Robin offered to be there as well, but Steve wanted it to start just between the three of them. Steve got a booth and just about ten minutes later, both Eddie and Billy arrived at the same time. Steve hid his smile behind the glass of juice he drank. It was almost like they had coordinated outfits. Billy wore leather pants and a denim jacket, while Eddie had a leather jacket and jeans.

They both stared at each other, then walked to the booth where Steve sat.

“Is this some kind of set up?”, Billy accused.

“Just sit, the both of you”, Steve said, pointing to the space across from him.

They took a moment to glare at each other before doing just that. Steve took a breath as a waitress came by to take their orders now that the whole party was here. He’d joked with Robin about getting them to pay for his meal, but now he felt too anxious. His stomach was twisted into knots.

“I called you both here today because-”

“Wait, wait, wait, the first thing you should be doing is introducing us”, Eddie said. “I don’t even know who this guy is, or why we’re sitting on the same side.”

Billy looked Eddie up and down. “If this is your way of asking for a threesome, sorry to say, I don’t fuck alphas.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Billy this is Eddie, Eddie, this is Billy.”

“Okay”, Eddie frowned at Billy. “I second the ‘no threesome thing’.”

“Do you really think that’s why I invited you to a diner?”, Steve looked at them, incredulous.

“So if this isn’t a booty call then what is it, Harrington?”, Billy asked.

Well, here goes nothing. “I’m pregnant.”

…

“And one of you might be the father.”

….

“Um-”

“So you’re trying to baby trap us, is that it? What happened to keeping it casual?”, Billy’s scent was already starting to stink up the booth.

“Baby trapping implies I wanted to trap either of you”, Steve frowned. “I don’t see good fathers sitting across from me right now.”

“Ouch. Harsh”, Eddie said.

“Yeah, well, it’s the truth.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m only telling you because I think you have a right to know. But I don’t need help raising this baby.”

“So you’re keeping it?”, Billy asked.

“Yes, I’m keeping.”

“Hey, just asking, it’s the twenty-first century. You’re not required to go through with it anymore”, Billy said with his hands up.

“Well I want to. I’ve always wanted to”, Steve admitted. “I’m keeping my pup and raising them and I don’t need anything from either of you. Not money or involvement or anything.”

“Shucks, it sounds like you don’t think we’re even capable”, Eddie said. “I think I’m starting to feel offended, what about you, Blondie?”

“Billy. And it doesn’t just sound like he thinks we’re incapable. Sounds like he thinks we’d be shit dads.”

“Hey, I make judgments based on what I see.”

“And you’ve only seen our dicks”, Eddie challenged. “We could be smash hits when it comes to being dads and you’d have no idea.”

“I can handle a bachelorette party of twenty, I could probably handle a kid”, Billy said, nonchalant now.

“A pup’s a hell of a lot different from mixing some drinks. OR fixing up a car”, Steve said before Eddie could retort.

“I wasn’t going to say that”, Eddie argued. “I was going to say that being a mechanic shows how patient and nurturing I can be.”

“Patient and nurturing? You?”, Steve raised a brow.

“Yeah!”

“I’ve literally seen you curse out that one kid at your job.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Dustin’s in college, he’s hardly a kid.”

“Either way, neither of you are ready for this”, Steve said.

“And you don’t think we could be ready in nine months?”, Billy asked.

Eddie grinned. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Do you guys even want to raise this pup with me? What if it’s not even yours?”, Steve asked.

Eddie smirked at Steve, then Billy. “I mean, it’s a 50-50 chance, right?”

“Right”, Billy said.

And then they fist bumped each other and Steve just now realized he had lost control of the conversation. He didn’t know if he was mad or happy at the conclusion they’d come to. More than anything, he was just confused. When he got home, Robin was there, ready to dish.

“So how’d the baby daddy react?”

“Daddies?”

“Huh?”

“Daddies, Robin. I have two baby daddies.”

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #harringrove #omegaverse #a/b/o

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solxamber · 8 hours

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Cake and Crime - Jade Leech x reader

After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.

It all started with a misunderstanding. To be fair, things like this always seemed to start with a misunderstanding, but this one really took the cake. And, of course, it involved Jade Leech, because why wouldn’t it?

You’d been to the Mostro Lounge before—after all, it was the go-to place for your family gatherings. Azul’s idea of a café-slash-business-operation had gotten buzz, and like everyone else, you found yourself sipping a drink and enjoying the food, none the wiser to the shady dealings that went on behind the scenes.

And why would you know? Despite being an heir of a crime family, you had absolutely no idea that your family was basically the mafia. No one had ever sat you down and said, "Hey, just so you know, we're kind of in the business of making problems disappear."

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve been suspicious when your uncle’s "bakery business" never seemed to actually bake anything, or when your aunt talked about "solving problems" with a knowing wink. But you chalked it up to eccentricity. After all, who wouldn’t believe their family was just full of quirky folks?

This week was a disaster for you. Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong. You hadn't slept in three days and had about five papers due in two. So, you really needed a pick-me-up, and where better to go than your usual place?

Of course, when you wandered into the Mostro Lounge for your usual drink, Jade Leech, with his ever-present smile, was behind the counter, asking in his polite way, “What can I get for you today?”

Without thinking much, you let out a long, exhausted sigh and said, “You know what? I could really use something sweet. Do you guys do special orders? Like, something custom?”

Jade, ever the picture of politeness, raised an eyebrow, his smile polite but predatory. “Special order, you say?”

You nodded. Maybe they’d have what you were craving. "I heard you guys can make it happen."

Jade’s smile widened ever so slightly, and you swore his sharp teeth glinted under the dim lighting. “Ah, yes. Special orders.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And what exactly were you looking to order?”

You thought for a second before blurting out, “I’ve been craving a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese. Maybe with boba, too?”

Jade paused, his eyes glinting for just a moment before his usual grin returned. “A Thai tea pastry with cream cheese, you say?”

You nodded, leaning on the counter, not noticing the flicker of interest in his expression.

“And who is the lucky recipient of this… special treat?” he asked.

You shot him a confused look before pointing at yourself. "It's for me."

“Of course,” Jade replied, already scribbling in his little notepad. “Consider it handled. You'll receive your delivery in a few hours.”

Handled. Now, at the time, you hadn’t thought much of that word. You figured Jade was just being friendly, efficient, the perfect worker he always was. So, naturally, after putting in your "order," you headed back to your family’s estate, feeling strangely lighter.

Later that night, as you sat down for dinner with your brothers, you casually brought it up. “Hey, guys, I put in an order at Mostro Lounge today. Jade said he’s going to ‘handle’ everything for me.”

Your two older brothers, hardened men who’d seen more than their fair share of the family’s business, froze mid-bite. Forks clattered against plates as they slowly turned to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes.

“W-What?” the eldest sputtered, his voice rising several octaves. “You… you put in an order?”

“Yeah,” you replied, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing. “I asked for a Thai tea pastry with cream cheese and white boba. You know, to get rid of my craving.”

The middle brother choked on his drink, sputtering wildly. “You… WHAT?!”

Your confusion only deepened. “I just needed some stress relief! It’s not that big of a deal. Jade said he’d take care of it.”

They stared at you in disbelief, as if you’d just told them you’d sold your soul to a demon—which, considering who you’d been talking to, wasn’t far from the truth.

The eldest brother put his hands on the table, looking like he was about to have a mental breakdown. “Do you even know what you just did?”

Your other brother, slightly more composed but clearly panicking, started pacing. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Now, it was your turn to look concerned. “Okay, what is going on? Why are you both freaking out?”

The eldest brother ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. “You… you used a code, you idiot!”

“A… code?” You blinked. “What kind of code?”

Your middle brother, still pacing, stopped long enough to stare at you incredulously. “*Thai tea cake with cream cheese*?! That’s not a pastry order! That’s a request to kill someone! It’s the ‘break their legs but don’t kill them quickly’ code! And white boba means 'make it as painful as possible!'”

You gaped, your stomach dropping as realization hit. “Wait, WHAT?”

Your eldest brother slowly knelt in front of you and asked, “Did you mention who the order is for?”

When you slowly nodded and pointed at yourself, his face dropped, and he let out a long-suffering sigh.

Your middle brother groaned, shaking his head. “And you told Jade Leech—the most terrifying guy in Mostro—to ‘handle it’?!”

Panic set in as you finally started piecing it together. “Wait, so I didn’t just… order a cake?”

Your eldest brother gave you a deadpan look. “No, you didn’t. You ordered a hit. On yourself.”

*You ordered a hit. On yourself.*

You stared, wide-eyed, as the words sank in. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

The middle brother waved his arms frantically. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying!”

Jumping to your feet, you knocked your chair back and grabbed your coat. “I need to fix this! How do I fix this?!”

The eldest sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “You need to go back and cancel the order before Jade actually follows through!”

Which led to your current mad dash back to the Mostro Lounge, heart pounding as you practically burst through the doors. Breathless, you ran up to the counter where Jade stood, his ever-pleasant smile already in place.

“Ah, welcome back,” Jade said, his tone smooth and unbothered. “I was just about to finalize your… order.”

“No!” You flailed, hands waving wildly. “I need to cancel it! Cancel the whole thing! I didn’t mean it!”

Jade’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned on the counter, his sharp teeth barely peeking through his smile. “Cancel it? Are you sure? You seemed quite certain earlier.”

“I’m very sure!” you said, desperate. “It was a huge misunderstanding!”

Jade hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tapping the counter. “Misunderstanding or not, it was quite an amusing order. I must admit, it’s not every day someone orders a hit on themselves.”

You slumped against the counter, groaning. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Jade chuckled, a low, amused sound. “Not at all. But… I suppose I can let this one slide. After all,” he added with a wicked grin, “it’s far too entertaining to see you squirm like this.”

You sighed in relief, but Jade wasn’t done. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Though, I must ask… are you certain you don’t want anything else? Perhaps a ‘shaken not stirred’? Or maybe a ‘dark roast with extra cream’?”

You squinted, half-curious, half-terrified. “Uh… what do those mean?”

Jade’s grin widened. “The first is full-blown sabotage. The second? Well, let’s just say that’s for when you want someone to ‘vanish.’ Permanently.”

You shuddered. “Yeah, definitely not. Just cancel the ‘pastry,’ and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Jade straightened, still smiling. “As you wish.”

Relief started to wash over you, but the look in Jade’s eyes—sharp, calculating, amused—told you that this situation was far from over.

“So, it’s… canceled, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t haunt you forever.

Jade tilted his head, considering you for a moment. His smile never faltered, but there was a glint of something more behind it—something that made you feel like you were still caught in some kind of trap. “Hmm… I did say I would cancel it, yes. But I must admit, it’s not often I receive such an… intriguing request. Canceling something this entertaining doesn’t come without a price.”

You blinked. “Wait, a price? I thought you said you’d let it slide!”

Jade’s grin widened, the sharp edges of his teeth visible as he stepped out from behind the counter, moving closer. “Oh, I am letting it slide. But everything comes with a little negotiation, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Jade was standing much closer than you anticipated, and the way his mismatched eyes gleamed under the soft lounge lighting had you frozen in place. You weren’t sure if you were more terrified or intrigued at this point.

“And… what kind of negotiation are we talking about?” you asked warily.

Jade chuckled softly, his voice almost a purr. “Oh, nothing too extreme, I assure you. You see, I was thinking…” He paused, letting the moment stretch out as his gaze lingered on you, the tension in the air growing by the second. “…that you could spend a little time with me. Consider it compensation for the… cancelation.”

Your mouth went dry. “Time with you?”

He nodded, his smile still soft, but the teasing look in his eyes told you that this was no ordinary request. “You’ve caught my interest, after all. It’s only fair that I take the opportunity to get to know you better, don’t you think?”

You swallowed hard, trying to process what he was saying. “So… if I spend time with you, we’ll call it even? No hit, no thai tea cake, nothing?”

“Exactly,” Jade replied smoothly. “Just a pleasant exchange. I’d say it’s quite a generous offer, wouldn’t you?”

Generous? Sure. But the way he was looking at you made it feel like you were walking into another trap—though maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one you’d mind falling into.

You hesitated, glancing at the door and then back at Jade. “And what would… spending time with you entail?”

Jade’s grin softened slightly, becoming a bit more genuine. “Oh, nothing too outrageous. A few meals, perhaps. A walk through the botanical gardens. Maybe I’ll even show you some of the more… exclusive areas of the Mostro Lounge.”

Your heart was pounding now, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves, excitement, or a mix of both. Spending time with Jade Leech sounded like playing with fire, but… well, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that had sparked inside you.

“Well…” you said slowly, glancing up at him. “I guess that’s better than being taken out by one of your ‘special services.’”

Jade chuckled again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Much better, I’d say. Shall we start now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

Jade stepped back slightly, gesturing toward the lounge’s main seating area. “Why not? I’m free for the evening, and I believe you’ve already cleared your schedule, haven’t you?”

There was no escaping this, was there? But, surprisingly, you didn’t really want to. With a deep breath, you nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. I guess I’m yours for the evening.”

Jade’s grin returned, bright and sharp. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And as he led you to one of the more private booths in the lounge, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this was the most dangerous, yet exciting, order you’d ever made.

#jade leech x reader #jade x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland

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whatitsdecending · 2 days

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Vore (Vessel Oneshot)

Vessel x Female Reader

Word Count: 3k

A small argument breaks out between you and your partner, leading to the two of you letting your emotions combat the other in a more intimate way.

Content warning: smut, biting, slight masochism, choking, dominance, aggressive behavior

Requested by: @40ss

A/N: hi all, I’m very open to taking requests for anyone in Bad Omens or Sleep Token, hoping you all enjoy this one!!

“…follow me between the jaws of fate, I want to have you to myself… for once…”

—————————

You stared at your partner as he leaned over his guitar, writing something down on the pad of paper in front of him. His eyebrows were scrunched together as he focused, lips tight and holding his guitar pick between them.

It’s been an hour… one long, grueling hour of watching him write, play some riff, shake his head and scratch out what he first wrote to only rewrite another thing. He grew increasingly frustrated with himself each time and you were just waiting for him to give up. But that wasn’t how he worked. You’ve seen it firsthand how he works himself to exhaustion and you’re driving the two of you home as he sleeps in the passenger seat.

He was too stubborn for you to step in and tell him to take a break. You’ve tried many times before, but always got the: “I’m fine, I’ll have a break when I think I need one” response. So now, you just sat back and watched over the pages of your book as his frustration grew.

“Fuck.” He muttered as he stopped strumming the chords that had you tapping your foot along to them.

You looked up. “What was wrong with that one, Vessel?” You asked, setting the bookmark in the place you were and put your book to the side. You rested your forearms on your thighs and leaned your weight against them, staring at him as he shook his head.

“Didn’t feel right.” He said, crossing out something on the paper once again.

You sighed. “I really liked it, if that means anything.” You toyed with a loose thread on your sweatshirt as he was quiet and wrote again.

“It was a simple, peppy riff that anybody remotely interested in music would have found to be catchy.” He snapped. You straightened your spine in alarm at the tone he used at you, something you’d never heard come from him when he talked to you. He just focused on what he was writing on the paper, completely unaware of what he just said to you.

You swallowed the lump starting form in your throat. “Well. I guess I should leave, if you clearly don’t want me around here today.” You picked up the book and stood from the couch, striding to where your bag hung on the coat rack and reached to pull it from there. You turned to Vessel after grabbing it. “I guess I’ll see you at home once you figure out a riff that’ll make someone who is as interested in music as you are like it.” Your words were like venom on your tongue, not once have the two of you spoken in such ways to each other and it felt so wrong. But couples have fights all the time, it’s healthy… right?

“Fuck,” he muttered once more and you turned to where he still sat, realizing his eyes were on you. “I did not mean to upset you Y/N.” He set his guitar to the side and stood, his long legs making a quick move to where you stood.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you when you get home.” You grit out as you stared up into his eyes, a flicker of regret in them as he went to cup your cheek with his hand.

“I meant none of that. I’m just…” He glanced away as he tried to find the words. “I’m just frustrated with this song, I want it to be perfect.”

You sighed. “Vessel every song you create is perfect, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much about this one song.” He was so, so talented and you admired that so much about him. But god was he a perfectionist. You knew he always was but this time around it’s increased at least ten times, for some reason he was putting his all into it and was struggling.

His long arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest, holding you tight as his heartbeat thumped against your skin. You savored the warmth radiating off him and onto your skin, the light scent of his cologne and the slightest bit of sweat from his day of working wrapped around you, engulfing you in that comfort that he gave you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered against your hair.

You nodded. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” His grip around you tightened ever so slightly and he kissed your head. “I’ll still head out though, just so you’ve got the space to yourself to figure it out.” You pulled away from his embrace.

“No, no.” He said, continuing after you raised a brow at him. “I need you here to be able to work on this.”

“Why…?” You put your bag back on the coat rack and fished the book out again.

He smiled slightly. “The song, it’s about you. And I need you here in order to work on it. That’s why I want it to be perfect.” Your heart strained against your chest and it felt as though your stomach flipped a few times as his words settled in you.

“You’re making a song about me?” It was a shocked whisper that came from you, making Vessel smile as he observed your face.

“Yes.” He smiled and kissed your forehead again. “Now, go sit, read and look beautiful so I can keep working on it.” You blushed and rushed back to your spot on the couch, curling up in the corner and flipping open the book to the page you were on. You felt his stare and you peaked over the edges again, smiling as he watched you with a loving gaze.

“Stop staring at me and get to work.” You chuckled.

“I’m getting inspiration.” He smirked as his eyes raked over every bit of you. You blew him a kiss and went back to the book. “Hmm, that would work too.”

“What?” You asked, waiting a moment before glancing up and seeing him stalking over to you. “What are you doing you dork?” You laughed as he came up to you, pulling your face to his and kissing you gently. “Oh, that’s fine I guess.” You muttered after his lips parted from yours.

“Mmhm.” He hummed softly and pressed his lips against yours once more and deeper than the first one.

You pulled back. “Is your inspiration flowing now?” A light giggle came out as you spoke, noting the fire that gleamed in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Only a bit. I might need a little more help, though.” He said, voice rough with desire.

You smirked as he came close again. “I could help you out with that.” You purred, his lips pressing onto yours again as he took the book from your hands and placing it gently on the side table. He hummed against your lips as you lightly nipped his bottom lip and positioned yourself so you were now laying on the couch, his body following yours and resting against you.

“You sure no one will be coming in?” You asked between a kiss.

He propped himself up and brushed a stray hair from your face. “Yes, everyone had plans today. It’s just us darling.” He leaned down and peppered soft kisses across your face and your jaw.

“Mm, good.” You breathed. “So no one will question why you’re moaning my name so loud.”

He laughed. “Sure, darling. But I think it’s more so the other way around.” You rolled your eyes at the implication and pulled him back down to your lips, biting his bottom lip a little harder this time to make him gasp and you could slip your tongue into his mouth. You propped up your legs after he tapped on them, letting him nestle between them and press his growing erection against your core.

You pushed your hips up, pressing yourself against him more and causing his breath to catch in his throat at the feeling. A smirk twitched at your lips as you began to grind your hips into his, a groan rumbled from his chest. He took his free hand and gripped the side of your hip, pushing it back against the cushions and away from his.

“Don’t fucking do that.” He ground out, voice gravely as he stared at you with desire burning in his eyes.

“And why not?” You cooned, cocking your head to the side as you eyed him. He huffed a breath as he took the hand that pinned your hip and began to undo the button of your jeans.

“You’re being a brat.” He said as he slid the zipper down. “You know I don’t like it when you’re trying to take control.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“You’re gonna regret saying that in two seconds.”

He pulled your jeans off with a swift tug, grinning at the panties you decided to wear today. He didn’t leave you enough time to laugh about the bright pink fabric that had “eat me” on the front before he pulled those down your legs.

Vessel lowered himself between your legs and set your thighs on his shoulders. He turned his neck to kiss the flesh next to him, inching down slowly as he kept his eyes trained on yours. You watched as the anticipation built between your legs, writhing around just a little as you ached for his touch.

He smirked against your thigh as his finger ran up the center of your folds, a shiver running through you as he teased both your clit and entrance. You breathed in deeply as he continued his teasing, his tongue drawing circles on the skin of your thigh. And then, he inserted his finger at the same time he bit your thigh. Not too hard to cause you so much pain, but hard enough where you gasped at the different sensations happening at once.

“Oh… god.” You moaned as he pumped his finger in and out of you and kept hold of your flesh with his teeth.

He moved his head over to your other thigh, biting down as he inserted a second finger. You moaned loudly and your back arched up at the feeling of his fingers stretching you slowly. You whimpered at the feeling of them as he curled them up each time he reached where your g-spot laid and the feeling of his teeth on your flesh… you needed more from that.

“M-mark me.” You moaned. Your eyes peaked open for a moment, noting Vessel staring at you. “Do it baby, please.” He hummed against your thigh and you felt his teeth push deeper and harder into your skin, the sharp pain hitting you in tune with the pleasure of his fingers inside of you. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, enjoying the sensations that overwhelmed your mind all at once.

You knew it wasn’t going to be a bloody mess due to the thickness of the skin of your thigh, but the bruise it was going to leave would be satisfactory enough.

After he studied the bite marks on both of your thighs, Vessel moved his mouth to rest on your clit. His tongue drew circles around the sensitive bundle as you writhed beneath him. Your hands flew straight to his hair and your fingers tangled with the strands of his hair. You tugged each time he flicked his tongue or curled his fingers, and your hold grew tighter the closer he brought you to your orgasm.

“V-Ves… Vessel.” You cried out as the release rattled through you, your thighs clenched tight around his head as your muscles locked up for just the moment.

You laid there breathless as your body came down from the high. Vessel stayed between your legs and gently caressed the bite marks that were now very apparent on your thighs. You smiled down at him and he smirked back in response.

“You want more? Or just that?” He asked you, drawing invisible shapes on your pelvic bone as he waited for your answer.

You raised a brow. “Well what does “more” entail?”

He only smiled as he said, “Fucking you to the point where I have to carry you out of here.” Ache built between your legs again as a dark look gleamed in his eyes now.

“How do you want me?” You asked, biting your lip slightly as he ran a finger through the slickness of your folds.

“Something like this. But,” he sat up to where he rested on his knees and towered over you, then pulled you down so you were fully flat on the couch. “More like this.” You giggled at the strength he possessed in order to move you at the speed he just did, a little surprised by the movement too.

He pulled off your shirt and bra, eyes sparkling at the sight of you bare before him. “Is this what you needed for “inspiration”?” You stretched your arms over your head to elongate your torso, his eyes widened at the sight.

“It’s not what I fully thought I needed but yes, Christ yes Y/N, I need this.” His hands toyed with the soft mounts of your breasts for a bit before he removed the belt from his jeans, pushing the fabric from his legs and onto the floor. Your eyes fixated on the bulge of his erection through his briefs, desire now seemed to drip from your body as he pulled away the undergarment from his body.

He lifted your legs, letting you hold them yourself as he settled between them once more, coming down to press a kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with your entrance. In an instant the feeling of him pushing inside and filling you up was all you could focus on. You grabbed at him, pulling him down so he was flush against your chest as he moved in and out.

Once you were used to him in you, he leaned back from your chest and wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing a bit as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he did so. You locked your hand around his forearm, digging your fingers into his skin.

“Harder, Vessel.” You whimpered and he nodded, simultaneously squeezing more at your neck and thrusting harder into you. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and mixed in with the harmony of your moans and his. You were on cloud fucking nine right now.

“Pull your knees to your chest.” He ground out in multiple breaths. You nodded and pulled your knees up as he paused for a moment to let you. He leaned his body into your legs, pressing them up further and further until your toes were almost touching the pillows behind you. “Mmm, fuck this feels good.”

You cried out when his thrusts came fast and hard, his pace never faltering as he slammed into you. He leaned down and kissed you roughly, tongue and teeth clashing with one another as you did your best to focus on his kiss.

He was slowly making you come undone again, the pressure of this angle was stimulating that little spot in you and it was going to make you orgasm all over his cock. You could tell by the increased whines coming from his throat that he was close too, but never once did his pace slow.

The muscles of your walls tightened up as your release came quickly, a strangled moan escaping your lips as your body shook against the position you were in. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek quickly as you came down from your orgasm. His hands grabbed hold of your wrists and pinned them up over your head, allowing him a full view of your fucked-out expression. You stared up at him through your lashes and he kept your eye contact as his own orgasm came crashing through his body.

He slowed his pace to a stop, panting heavily as he moved each of your legs back down to rest against the couch. They shook wildly as Vessel pulled out of you and went to get a towel to clean you up. You laughed at your body, the involuntary shaking of your muscles as you calmed down from the activity.

Vessel returned with a slightly damp towel and cleaned you up, chuckling at your legs like you had just done. He pulled you from the couch and you placed your feet on the floor, pushing yourself up as you winced at the cramp you felt. “Oh you got me good, babe.” You winked at him as you bent down to grab your clothes and pull them back on.

“Am I going to have to carry you when we leave?” He asked, pulling his shirt back over his head and attempting not to laugh as you struggled with your jeans.

“You know what I was going to say no, but now that you’re laughing at me you must carry me out of here.” You put your hand on your hip as you pointed at him, getting another laugh in response. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your book from the side table, making sure to make yourself comfortable on the other end of the couch this time. “I hope that was enough to inspire you now.”

He smirked from where he sat down, guitar now on his lap as he strummed a few chords. “Hm. Should be good for now, but I’ll let you know if I need any more.” He winked at you.

You snorted. “Dork.”

“You love me though.”

You gave him a pointed nod from over the edges of your book. “Yes, Vessel. I do love you.” He smiled broadly at your words and went back to working, focus taking over every aspect of his face.

The first sample was finished within the hour.

#sleep token #vessel #vessel smut #oneshot #smut

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